Your Life Is Forfeit: A Space Opera Adventure Legal Thriller (Judge, Jury, & Executioner Book 4)

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Your Life Is Forfeit: A Space Opera Adventure Legal Thriller (Judge, Jury, & Executioner Book 4) Page 13

by Craig Martelle


  “He doesn’t need to. I’ll know,” Rivka replied.

  Bumperclasp nodded and offered nothing else.

  “The issue of the licensing board has come to our attention. It seems out of character for Mackestray to do something like that, but I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Our investigators found no evidence that it was anything other than an accident. Although nothing like this has ever happened before, it’s not outside the realm of possibility. It was a tragic intersection of bad luck.”

  “What about the chairman of the board’s death?”

  “That happened the week before. A heart attack. Once again, it’s not common, but not unheard of. They are coincidences, nothing more.”

  Rivka chewed on the inside of her lip and studied the premier as he spoke. “I’d like to look into it as part of my investigation into Mister Mackestray.” She wasn’t asking permission. “Who do I need to talk with to find issues that were on the board’s plate in order to eliminate concerns in various lines of inquiry?”

  “The secretariat that supports the board. They are currently in mourning. The recording and documentation office worked closely with all the board members. They were friends. I’m not sure how much you’ll be able to get from them. Please take care, Magistrate.”

  “We will be empathetic. No one likes to lose a friend.” Rivka had nothing else. “Thank you for your time. If Mackestray shows up, please let me know. And I have one more request. We need the assistance of your law enforcement personnel.”

  “My people out front will put you in touch. You have my full support. I don’t like the idea of someone who may have been responsible for thousands of deaths roaming free on my planet.”

  “Thank you.” Rivka was sincere in her appreciation even though the words were simple.

  The premier nodded and returned to his work. Rivka and her team showed themselves out, leaving their contact information with the premier’s team of assistants. A Capstan federal authority van was ordered and arrived within minutes.

  I would have thought they’d be busier, Red said privately.

  They are convinced it was an accident. I’m convinced of the opposite, Rivka replied.

  “Back to the ship to collect Floyd, and then to the recording and documentation office,” Rivka said aloud.

  “Floyd will be fine,” Red suggested. He fidgeted impatiently.

  “It’s not Floyd we’re worried about. It’s Ankh. The little guy could be smothered to death, and then who would change the lights to green for you?” Lindy asked.

  “We’re not going to let Mackestray get away,” Rivka tried to reassure him.

  It wasn’t very reassuring. They were grasping at straws.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jay hurried into Peacekeeper, calling for Floyd. The wombat bounced down the corridor to meet her, and Jay quickly kneeled to avoid getting bowled over. The two hugged before Jay carried her friend from the ship and rejoined the others waiting in the van.

  “Hey, Floyd!” Rivka smiled. “How was Ankh?” she asked Jay.

  “Never saw him.”

  Ankh! Floyd cheered in her small voice.

  “He’s fine,” Red grumbled before directing the driver to head out.

  “The Chief Constable wants a word,” the driver said.

  “I look forward to it.” Rivka had grown comfortable with her authority and wasn’t intimidated by local law enforcement. She needed something, and he could provide it. She would get what she wanted, and in the end, the galaxy would be a safer place.

  The van raced through the city, using its lights and siren to bypass normal traffic. “The roads can be bad this time of day,” the driver said to no one in particular.

  “I lived on a massive space station,” Jay whispered. “How come most of the planets we go to aren’t advanced? Collum Gate had hover vehicles and cool architecture, but most places are backward.”

  “Because most places are playing catch-up. Without the Federation, many of these races would still be stuck on their own planets. The Federation helps them technologically, but only incrementally so their social systems can keep pace. That’s why it seems like so many of them are stuck in a twentieth-century Earth kind of place. The Federation expanded so quickly that they introduced advances at relatively the same time.”

  “So here we are, stuck in the same traffic on different planets. I wondered why that was, but your explanation makes sense.” Lindy continued to look out the window as the world of Capstan raced by.

  The law enforcement center was in a nondescript building in an average section of town. There were no high rises. There was a small compound where official vehicles were stored. The entrance was a simple double door with a small logo and the name of the organization.

  Capstan Federal Authority.

  Red hopped out first and prepared to go inside, but Rivka stopped him. “I assume that your railgun will be less than popular until we establish our bona fides. You and all your hardware wait in the van. I’ll call if there is an issue.”

  Jay climbed out with Floyd who immediately ran to the bushes and dropped a load.

  Rivka groaned as she looked at Jay, who held up her hands. “No bags. Sorry.”

  Feel better, Floyd claimed.

  “I’m not sure she should come inside.”

  “You’re not going alone,” Jay told the Magistrate, putting her hands on her hips. “And we’re kind of a matched set.” She pointed with her chin toward the wombat who was sniffing her way to the front door.

  “Sounds good,” Rivka replied, shaking her head and walking toward the door. Jay hurried ahead and pulled the door open. Floyd squeaked through right before the Magistrate.

  Hold up, little girl, Rivka said. Wait for Jay, and you two stay together, please.

  But people! Floyd complained.

  You’ll get to meet them, but I need to introduce you, Jay remarked.

  Floyd ran back to meet Jay at the door. When Rivka looked up, she found every Capstanian in the front lobby staring at them. Rivka smiled and waved before holding up her credentials. “I’m Magistrate Rivka Anoa, and I have an appointment with the Chief Constable.”

  She looked for someone to acknowledge her, growing more and more irritated at the increasing length of the delay. A uniformed officer looked around before stepping forward.

  “I’m Officer Dellagrouch. I’ll escort you to the Chief Constable’s office.”

  “Thank you, Officer.” Rivka’s smile returned. The officer pointed at the wombat and started to speak, but Rivka stopped him. “Her name is Floyd, and she’s coming with us.”

  The officer seemed to instinctively know that point wasn’t to be argued.

  “Shall we?” Rivka motioned into the building. She had no idea where the Chief Constable’s office was and was glad of the escort.

  Rivka fell in beside the officer, making small talk as they walked. Jay and Floyd followed, the wombat bouncing happily and nodding at the people as she passed. A couple of braver souls kneeled to say hi and were warmly greeted with a full body rub of Floyd’s soft fur. She radiated happiness, so it didn’t take long before the entire station was following in order to feel her fur and greet her.

  “Here we are,” Officer Dellagrouch said, pointing the way through an open door. The Chief Constable, an ancient Capstanian, walked slowly toward the door with his hand outstretched. Rivka shook the warm hand. There were no ill thoughts, and Rivka relaxed. The Chief Constable looked at the wombat.

  “We don’t have pets on Capstan, but off-world entertainment often shows them. I always wondered what it would be like.”

  “Her name is Floyd, and she’s a wombat,” Jay informed him.

  “Nice to meet you.” He leaned down and held out his hand. Floyd nuzzled him, rubbing her head against his hand. He stroked her fur and smiled.

  “Floyd is a member of our crew. She is free to do as she wishes, but we take care of her.”

  The wombat stood on her back legs, and t
he Chief Constable caught her against the front of his trousers. He scrubbed the fur on the side of her neck, and she vibrated in delight.

  “I think we’ve been missing something. I shall have to explore this in my retirement. Constable Crustcrumb’s Companions. It has a certain ring to it.”

  Jay helped Floyd down so the Chief Constable and the Magistrate could have their conversation.

  Crustcrumb’s clothes were covered in wombat hair. He looked at his hands as if the Black Plague had infected his office. “Oh my,” he exclaimed.

  “That is the one drawback of pets or hairy companions.” Rivka took a seat in one of two chairs before his desk. “You said you wanted to talk to me.”

  He tried to wipe off the hair, but it stuck everywhere. Soon, it was on every surface of his clothing. He finally gave up. “I wondered how I could assist with your investigation, Magistrate.”

  “I would love your help. We’re looking for a spaceship called Pandora Express. It’s a small yacht. It could have landed anywhere. We already tried the usual search and came up with nothing. I think you probably have access to resources we don’t.” Rivka flashed him a smile.

  “Yes. We have the eyes and ears of our people, which are more valuable than any of those computers. I can put out an all-points bulletin.”

  “There’s the rub. He can’t know that we’re here and looking for him. We believe he has an AI who taps local communications and data systems to gather information that he then uses to blackmail people. He’s used blackmail and hacking to influence elections. That is where he gets his kicks and his credits.”

  “That changes things. We can brief it verbally for the crews, but we can’t hit the day shift until tomorrow morning. They are already on patrol.”

  “As long as we tread softly, another day is perfectly fine. Tod Mackestray is his name, and he’s a Blokite.”

  “I don’t know that species,” the Chief Constable admitted.

  “They evolved to survive impacts to their head, neck, and back. They look like a humanoid battering ram.” Rivka accessed her datapad and pulled up an image.

  “Is that him?” the Chief Constable asked.

  “No. That’s a picture of the Blokite ambassador on Collum Gate.”

  “They look fairly intimidating,” he suggested.

  “You don’t want to fight one hand to hand. It’s almost impossible to hurt them.”

  “Motive, means, and opportunity, Magistrate. Motive is money. Means is via his AI and personal intimidation. Does he have a gang that works for him? And opportunity. He’s here, and can get on any communications device to call. His personal appearance is probably the easiest for us to find, but we fight hard not to be accused of racism. I suspect there aren’t many Blokites in the universe, but even so, we can’t stop one for being of that race. We need some other reason to check his identification.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a picture or something confirming that he’s the one who came from Pandora Express. I still believe you have probable cause to stop every Blokite and at least ask for identification. If nothing else, simply tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

  “I can’t do that, Magistrate. We pride ourselves on freedom and equality.”

  “I respect that, but when you have a fifty percent or better chance that someone is who we’re looking for, I’m good that we haven’t violated anyone’s rights. I’d take a twenty percent chance. I can’t believe there are five Blokites on Capstan.”

  “Maybe you can take that chance, but I can’t and won’t. I am sorry, Magistrate.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Chief Constable. I can respect someone who stands firm to their principles. A couple other tidbits came to me while we were talking. He has an AI called Margaret whom he talks to, and he’ll probably visit candidates for office or politicians who are already in office. Maybe if a Blokite shows up in those ways, it’ll meet your threshold for intervention.”

  “In either of those cases, yes. There is no reason for a Blokite to be interested in our elections.”

  “Deal, Chief Constable. If you find Pandora Express, please let me know. We’ll lock it up so he can’t fly out of here and then we’ll tighten the noose. If you can’t tell, I want this guy in a bad way.”

  “Stay true to your principles, Magistrate,” the old Capstanian advised. He wasn’t trying to be sarcastic. He’d been in the business a long time and knew the slippery slope of taking shortcuts.

  “I will. There are those who would kill him on sight. I’m not one of them. I want to question him. I already have a substantial case built, but I need a few more answers to finalize the case.”

  “As a Magistrate, is it true that you are the judge, the jury, and the executioner?”

  Rivka studied his expression, wondering what answer he was looking for. She settled on the innocuous.

  “I mete out Justice to the guilty. Magistrates carry the burden of the Federation. We deal with the worst of the worst. I’ve been shot, shot at, blown up, jailed, boiled, and watched my people get hurt, all of that over the course of eight months. I have little tolerance for games. When the end comes, there is no hesitation.”

  “I am happy to not have your job, Magistrate.”

  “I am surrounded by good people like Jay and Floyd. My bodyguards are outside. I didn’t think you’d appreciate two folks carrying railguns inside your station.”

  “That was probably the right call, but we would have been okay. You are a Federation Magistrate. We will get the word out regarding Pandora Express and have our people continue their search on the down low. We’ll make sure they don’t broadcast the search. Good luck.”

  “We’ll take all the luck we can get. Like I said, this guy is slippery. And we’re also looking for an Aborginian named K’Twillis.”

  “An Aborginian. A swamp person, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “That’s right.” Rivka’s ears perked up.

  “I think there’s one here. Interesting that such a being is invested in mining, but there it is.”

  “Mining!” Rivka ripped her datapad from inside her coat and started tapping. There’s an Aborginian here who is interested in mining.

  That’s him, Red declared. They are both here? Holy. Shit. Lock and load, people. The hunters become the hunted.

  Ankh. Check if the licensing board was doing anything with mining permits preceding the chairman’s death. It seems that K’Twillis may be on Capstan as well. Search everything to do with new mines, rented mining equipment, and so on.

  “You have been an incredible help, Chief Constable, but I need to go. We have the scent, and can’t let it go cold.” She tapped the side of her nose, then raced from the office with Jay and Floyd running after her.

  Fire up the van. We’re on our way. First stop, the recording and documentation office. We need directions to the mine. We have an Aborginian to find.

  Don’t forget Tod Mackestray, Lindy said.

  They have us surrounded, so no matter which direction we shoot, we’re going to hit something! Red declared.

  The Magistrate burst out the front door, running for the van. She jumped in and turned to find Floyd heading for the bushes with Jay jogging after her. She relieved herself, and Jay carried her the rest of the way to the van.

  Tired, the wombat cried. Rivka helped them into the van before Red told the driver where they needed to go.

  “Does this count as running?” Lindy asked.

  “I thought Ankh won the pool?”

  “He did, but there’s a new pool. It resets with each new mission…I mean case,” Lindy explained.

  “It does not count as running,” Red stated definitively. “But we may be shooting pretty soon. I think my number might be up.”

  “We could take that a couple different ways,” Rivka interrupted. “Dammit! Why do we always devolve into those damn prop bets of yours?”

  “Combat, Magistrate.” Red held Rivka’s gaze. “It’s the most inappropriate place for the best humor. Roll with it
.”

  “Nobody gets killed!” she insisted.

  “We’ll do our best,” Lindy replied.

  Floyd started to whimper and stuffed her snout under Jay’s arm. “Nobody says the ‘d’ word. Floyd suffered enough of that when the Bad Company rescued her. She’s been safe ever since.”

  “Joining us to be safe?” Red mumbled.

  Rivka stabbed a finger into his exposed flesh and made the zip-it motion across her lips. Red nodded his apology. The Magistrate shook her head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The datapad vibrated. Rivka looked at it and scowled. “Mackestray showed up at Bandersnatch’s right after we left. He’s already gone, and the candidate doesn’t know where.”

  Red hammered a fist into the dash, much to the driver’s chagrin.

  “We can’t be in two places at once,” he growled.

  “We don’t have to be.” Rivka used her pad to call the Chief Constable. The person who answered patched her through. “Mackestray visited Bandersnatch. Is there any way you can put a watch on the candidate’s office?”

  “I work for the Premier. Bandersnatch is running against him. Do you know how that would look? Even if I tried using someone in plain clothes, it wouldn’t work. I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”

  Rivka’s lip curled, and she clenched her jaw as her fury rose. She fought to keep it in check.

  “I understand. Just stay out of my way.” She signed off before he could respond. “Looks like it’s just us and our dilemma of having to be in two places at once. I’d call the Bad Company to help us out, lock down the whole planet until we caught these two, but we left them in the middle of a shit sandwich. We’re on our own.”

  “I’ll watch the candidate’s office,” Lindy volunteered.

  “Mackestray is dangerous,” Red argued slowly, knowing there were few options, none of them savory.

  “So am I,” Lindy replied.

  “He could have a bodyguard, someone like me.”

  “I’ll be okay. I’ll call if it looks like more than I can handle.”

 

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