I hoped I would, too. But I still had one more task to perform.
I found Osantra Qiddicoj sleeping in the open, without his sleep canopy deployed. Qiddicoj himself was sound asleep, but the Modhri inside him was awake and alert and obviously waiting up for me. Our conversation took another hour, and when I finally dragged myself back to my own bed I had the whole, bloody story.
Back when I worked for Westali, the hours leading up to a high-profile arrest were generally cluttered with a million last-minute details. There were warrants to get, backup to arrange, logistics to plan, loopholes to anticipate, and bolt-holes to plug. If you did everything right, the arrest itself was almost anticlimactic. If you did anything wrong, the whole event was likely to blow up in your face.
But here on the Quadrail, where Spider authority was absolute and bureaucratic red tape nonexistent, none of those details was relevant. As a result, I got to spend eight of those final hours asleep. A more restful sleep than I’d had since Bayta and I had first been summoned to the second/third dispensary to watch Master Colix die. It was finally almost over.
I really should have known better.
It was ten minutes to ten, and Bayta and I were just finishing a light breakfast, when Emikai arrived. “I trust I’m not overly early?” he asked, glancing around the dining car as if he expected the killer to be wearing a sign announcing his identity.
“Not at all,” I told him, standing up and offering Bayta my hand. She didn’t need my help, of course, but Filly cops were genetically engineered toward courtesy, and my show of politeness toward my partner might buy me a few points when it came time to shake him down for more information. “The rest of the group should be assembled,” I added as I gestured to the entryway. “Shall we go?”
I led the way four cars to the rear. Kennrick and the three remaining contract-team Fillies were indeed there, sitting in a circle and talking earnestly. For once, there were no dealt cards sitting in front of the group. “Greetings to you, Esantra Worrbin,” I greeted the head of the group. “And to you, Asantra Muzzfor, and you, Asantra Dallilo,” I continued, nodding to each in turn. “I appreciate your giving me a few moments of your time.”
“What’s he doing here?” Kennrick growled, eyeing Emikai darkly.
“I asked him to join us,” I said.
“And he got free how?”
“It was actually pretty easy once I’d cut his ropes,” I said. “The reason I asked you all here—”
“Without consulting any of us first?” Kennrick interrupted. “Our opinions and concerns don’t matter?”
“Actually, no, they don’t,” I said. “The reason I asked you all here was so that you could bear witness to the end of the ordeal. I finally know the identity of the murderer.”
Muzzfor sat up a little straighter. “You’ve found him?” he asked, an edge to his voice. “Why did you not say so earlier?”
“Because until last night I wasn’t a hundred percent sure,” I told him. “I thought—”
“Last night?” Muzzfor echoed. “And yet you waited until now to speak? How many more of us might have died in the dark hours because of your lack of haste?”
“You aren’t in any danger,” I assured him. “Not anymore. The contract team was indeed the target, but not for the reasons we all thought.”
“A moment,” Worrbin spoke up. “If this matter concerns the contract team, all members should be present. Master Tririn and Dr. Witherspoon must be summoned.”
“He’s right,” Kennrick seconded. “And as long as you’re going to get them passed up from third, you might as well go the whole dit rec mystery route and have the rest of the suspects join us, too.”
“Which suspects are those?” I asked.
“All of his friends,” Kennrick said, nodding toward Emikai. “Dr. Aronobal and that Human girl, Terese whatever.”
“Terese German,” I said. “Actually, she’s not a suspect. Never was, really, if you think about it.”
“Why not?” Dallilo asked, gazing down his long Filly nose at Emikai.
“Because di-Master Strinni and Usantra Givvrac were killed here in first class,” I said. “Ms. German didn’t have access to this part of the train.”
“Dr. Aronobal did, though,” Kennrick persisted. “She and Dr. Witherspoon were making the rounds between here and third all the time.”
“True,” I agreed. “Still, I think we can dispense with their company for the present.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “So, Kennrick. You want to tell everyone why you killed them? Or shall I?”
NINETEEN
I’d said it so casually that for the first couple of seconds no one seemed to get it. Then, almost in unison, Worrbin and the others turned to look at Kennrick. “You’re not serious,” Worrbin said, sounding stunned. “Mr. Kennrick?”
“Absolutely serious,” I assured him, watching Kennrick closely. His eyes were just starting to widen with shock as the words sank in. Exactly the correct reaction, with exactly the correct timing. The man was good, all right. “Would you like to make a statement, Kennrick?”
“Yes,” Kennrick said, coming out of his pretended paralysis. “I want to state that you’re completely and certifiably insane. Where in hell do you get off making outrageous accusations like that?”
“Truth is never popular, is it?” I said regretfully. “Fine—if you don’t want to tell them, I will. The point is—”
“Just a moment, Mr. Compton,” Worrbin interrupted me. “I have no great personal affection for Mr. Kennrick, but you cannot simply make public statements like that without proof in hand. Have you such proof?”
“Let’s take this one step at a time,” I suggested. “The point is—”
“I knew it,” Kennrick muttered under his breath. “I knew you didn’t just quit Westali. Loose damn cannon—they fired your butt, didn’t they?”
“The point is,” I said, raising my voice a little, “and the point we all missed, was that the murders had nothing to do with the contract itself. They were, in fact, an experiment. A field test to see if a new kind of murder technique could be slipped through Spider security and used aboard a Quadrail.”
Around us, the car was starting to quiet down as more and more passengers tuned in on our conversation. “What is this technique?” Muzzfor asked.
“Nothing I care to talk about in the open,” I said. “But trust me, it works.”
“And I presume you’ve got an explanation for how Usantra Givvrac and the three Shorshians died in entirely different ways?” Kennrick demanded. “Come on, Compton. Playing detective can be fun, but you’re way over the line with this one.”
“Actually, I believe Usantra Givvrac’s death was mostly accidental,” I said. “Collateral damage, as it were, from di-Master Strinni’s murder.”
Muzzfor stirred in his seat. “Esantra Worrbin, I submit that this is not the proper venue for such a sensitive discussion,” he said, looking significantly around the car.
“Agreed,” Worrbin said grimly. “We must find a place with more privacy.”
“We can go to my compartment,” Kennrick offered. “There’s enough room there.”
“Or you can just confess and surrender now,” I suggested. “Once you’re properly secured, I can go over the details with the others at their convenience.”
Kennrick snorted. “If you think I’m going to confess to something I didn’t do, you’re crazy.”