Manhunt on Tau Ceti 4 (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 6)

by John Bowers

  “Where did you learn that?”

  “My mother taught me. I’ve been speaking it all my life. Look, do you want the money or not? This is really important.”

  Mijo considered only briefly, then checked the street in both directions and trotted across. Nick handed him fifty terros.

  “Fifty now, fifty when you get back.”

  The boy took the money and stared at it.

  “Is this stuff real?”

  “Yes, it’s real. Now, do you know Sheriff Thomas?”

  Mijo’s eyes darkened. “Yeah, I know him. He’s a butthole.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that, but I need to get him a message.”

  “I ain’t goin’ inside his office. Already done that.”

  “He’s not in his office. He’s at the train station.” Nick peeled off another twenty and handed it to him. “Okay, a hundred and fifty. Seventy now, eighty when you get back.”

  “What’s the message?”

  “Tell him there’s been a murder at the hotel. Tell him Nick Jones needs him right away.”

  “He won’t believe me.”

  “Yes he will. There was another murder at the train station, and I think the same person killed the one in the hotel.”

  Mijo’s eyes widened again.

  “¡Jesu cristo! Two murders?”

  “Yes, so you see, it’s super important that you tell him. Can you do that?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Run fast, but look before you cross the streets. Don’t want you getting killed, too.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about me. I live on the streets, and I know the drill. I’ll be back for the rest of that money, so you better have it ready.”

  Nick nodded and straightened up. Without another word, Mijo dashed to the corner, then crossed the street and disappeared at a dead run.

  He really was fast.

  ***

  Nick waited ten minutes.

  Four people came down the hotel stairs—a man, woman, and two girls. Nick intercepted them before they reached the lobby.

  “Sorry, folks, but I need you to return to your rooms.”

  “What the hell for?” The man in the group, who looked about forty, scowled at him.

  “This is a crime scene,” Nick said. “The sheriff will be here any minute. He may want to talk to you.”

  “What kind of crime scene?”

  “It’s not my place to discuss that. Just wait for the sheriff. What room are you in?”

  “I’m not sure that’s any of your business! Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m a hotel guest, just like you. And I’m not going anywhere until the sheriff clears it. I’m pretty sure you should take the same approach. Failure to do so could result in you becoming a suspect.”

  “A suspect in what? A robbery?”

  “Yeah. Something like that.”

  Nick heard running feet and a moment later the front door burst open. Mijo appeared in the lobby.

  “The Sheriff is coming, Nick! Where’s my money?”

  Nick turned away from the stairs and approached the boy. A glance out the window revealed a surface car pulling in at the curb. Sheriff Thomas was at the yoke.

  “Okay, Mijo, good job.” Nick handed him eighty terros. “And here’s another twenty for being fast.”

  Mijo stared at the money in his hand, then glanced up at Nick.

  “This stuff better be real, or I’ll be back. You don’t want me to come back.”

  “Take it into a store and give it a try. You’ll see.”

  Mijo pocketed the money and looked around the lobby.

  “Can I see the dead man?”

  “Who said it was a man?”

  “Can I see the dead woman?”

  “I never said it was a woman.”

  “Who is it, then?”

  Nick was about to reply when a hideous scream pierced his skull. He spun around toward the hotel desk. One of the teenage girls in the family on the stairs had ventured over to look behind the desk. She was staring in horror at Viola Fricke’s body, clutching her face with both hands, squalling like a hypercat. Her father rushed forward to pull her back and her mother put arms around her, leading her away.

  “Shit!” Nick muttered. “I told you to return to your room!”

  The front door opened and Sheriff Thomas walked in, followed by Hugo Barnes. Nick’s jaw tightened at the sight of him.

  “What’s going on, Jones?” Thomas demanded. “The street kid said you have a murder here, too?”

  “That’s right.” Nick pointed. “Looks like the same killer.”

  He stepped aside as Thomas and Barnes approached the desk and peered over it. Sheriff Thomas’s face darkened with anger.

  “What the hell is going on in this town!” he demanded. “This is unprecedented!”

  Hugo Barnes spun around to glare at Nick.

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on, Sheriff! Nick Jones is going on. That’s two, now. How many more is he going to kill before we lock him up?”

  “Shut up, Hugo. If Jones had done it, he’d be covered in blood.”

  “He has a room upstairs. He had plenty of time to get a shower and a change of clothes.”

  Nick stared at him, fighting his anger, determined not to repeat the scene at the train station. He reached into a pocket and retrieved his hotel key. He tossed it to Barnes.

  “Room 321. Check it out for yourself.”

  Barnes glared at him, then at the key in his hand. He nodded.

  “Okay, I will. You just don’t go anywhere.”

  “I’ll be right here.”

  Barnes headed for the stairs. Nick called after him.

  “Don’t steal anything!”

  ***

  Barnes searched Nick’s and Victoria’s hotel room without finding anything incriminating, and reluctantly returned Nick’s key. Neither man spoke to the other the rest of the day.

  The crime scene investigation took most of the afternoon. Viola Fricke’s body was removed to a funeral home; Deputy Hanson contacted the hotel owner to come down and take over operations; all hotel guests were interviewed at length as to what they had seen and heard. Only a handful of the forty-odd guests had been inside the hotel when the killing took place, and none had been aware of it. Others trickled in throughout the afternoon and were horrified to discover what had happened.

  A news reporter showed up and flitted around the scene for a while, taking 3DV pictures for the local newscast. She identified herself as Maude Gorman and the local lawmen all seemed to know her. After interviewing Sheriff Thomas, she tried to corner Nick, but he put a hand over the camera lens.

  “You don’t need to talk to me,” he said. “I’m just a bystander. I didn’t see anything and I don’t know anything.”

  Gorman cocked her head.

  “Then what are you doing here?”

  “I saw a crowd on the sidewalk and just wandered in to see what was going on.”

  She cocked her head further.

  “I saw you consulting with the sheriff a few minutes ago. You want to try again?”

  Nick gazed at her a moment and realized she wasn’t going away. He had run into her kind before—you had to either give them something or convince them they were wasting their time talking to you. He licked his lips, glanced from side to side, then leaned in close.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to keep it under your hat. Are we off the record?”

  “That depends.”

  “Well…if you decide to use this, you can’t use my name. Or my face, either.”

  “We might be able to work something out. What’ve you got?”

  “It’s literally a matter of life and death.”

  “Two murders? Yeah, I kind of figured that out.”

  Nick glanced around again, to ensure their privacy.

  “I tried to tell Sheriff Thomas, but he won’t listen. Called me a kook, can you believe that?”

  Gorman, who looked about forty-five, til
ted her head again, looking skeptical.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Well…I’m pretty sure I know who did this. I’ve seen it before. On Sirius, on Centauri B, on Mars—”

  “Seen what?”

  “It’s aliens. I think they’re from the Andromeda Galaxy.”

  “Aliens? You mean, like—aliens? From another star system?”

  “Not another star system, another goddamn galaxy!”

  “Oh, come on—”

  “No, I’m serious!” Nick grabbed her arm. “You gotta believe me! They’ve killed two people already and that’s just the beginning! They always start slow, to avoid detection, then they ramp it up and before you know it the gutters are flowing with blood.”

  The woman pulled her arm free.

  “And you know this how? You’ve seen it before?”

  “Yes. Yes! I’ve been tracking them. Nobody in the Federation will believe me, and neither will the Confederacy. I’ve been trying to get proof so I can—”

  “You know what?” She took a step back. “This is all very interesting, but I’m up against a deadline right now. Why don’t we talk later?”

  “But—”

  With an insincere smile, she stepped around him.

  “Look me up tomorrow. It was really nice meeting you.”

  “Wait!”

  With a wave of her hand, she headed out the door, the camera on her shoulder. Nick watched through the window until she turned the corner, then let out a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed right now was his face on holo V—check that—3DV, or any other visual medium. If Saracen didn’t yet know he was on the planet, Nick’s face on a news report would change that for sure.

  Even so, he was afraid it was already too late. Saracen surely knew by now that he was here, and Victoria, too.

  Speaking of whom—night was falling outside.

  Where the hell was Victoria?

  Chapter 21

  Lago District – Tau Ceti 4

  Victoria made her way back to the end of the parallel rail spurs and, still screened by foliage, stood watching the steaming locomotive for several minutes. It seemed strange that such an ancient, monstrous iron beast should be belching smoke and emitting noises, especially since it probably had no electrical circuits whatsoever. Yet there it sat, smoking, huffing, water boiling in the main chamber, steam venting from a dozen ports.

  Trembling.

  Alive.

  Her curiosity was piqued. If the machine was smoking and steaming, someone must have started the process, but she saw no one around it. The only people she had seen so far were the workmen at the far end of the spur, still working on the stone blocks. She stood there a good five minutes, debating. What should she do? What did she expect to accomplish here?

  Finally she saw movement. A young man appeared from the far side of the loco and climbed into the cab at the rear of the engine. He tinkered with some machinery inside the cab, then bent over the controls. She could see him clearly through the open window on the side facing her.

  Victoria made a decision. She knew that Ken Saracen surrounded himself with cult-like worshippers who were willing to carry out the most hideous atrocities on his orders, but this fellow didn’t look like any of Saracen’s followers she had ever seen. He wasn’t wearing weird clothing and his hair wasn’t wild or unruly. His dress and demeanor were that of a young man just doing his job, and though none of that really proved anything, she flipped a mental coin and came up tails.

  She stepped out of the trees and walked toward the locomotive. She half expected to be challenged, but in fact walked right up to the engine without notice. She stopped below the cab and held a hand over her eyes to block the sunlight as she peered upward.

  “Excuse me?”

  No answer. She could hear the worker tinkering with his controls; puffs of steam washed over her feet.

  “Excuse me! Hello!”

  This time a face appeared in the window. The young man’s eyes reflected surprise as he gazed down at her. Victoria flashed him a dazzling smile.

  “Hi! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  He said something she couldn’t hear, then ducked back inside the cab. He must have opened a valve—a sudden blast of steam erupted from a pipe at the top of the monster, then the young man grabbed a vertical bar and swung himself to the ground, landing right in front of her.

  “Sorry,” he said with a puzzled grin. “I couldn’t hear you.”

  The rushing steam weakened and faded. Victoria smiled wider.

  “I couldn’t hear you either. This is much better.”

  He nodded. “Can I help you?”

  “Gee, I hope so. I just came in off the highway and saw this place. Is it a museum or something?”

  “Oh, no.” He glanced up at the castle wall behind him. “It’s actually a private estate. You must be from another district.”

  He looked her up and down and seemed pleased with what he saw. Victoria congratulated herself on a judgment call—he sure didn’t seem like one of Saracen’s killers. She guessed he was several years her junior, probably no more than twenty-two; he wasn’t vid-star handsome but did have a pleasant face, a nice smile, and in spite of his working clothes, was clean-cut.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Vicky Jones.” She held out a hand and he took it.

  “Hi, Vicky. I’m Trevor.”

  Victoria felt a jolt. Unaccountably, her cheeks burned red.

  She squeezed his hand.

  “Hi…Trevor.”

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “No, why?”

  “You’re blushing. Like I said something wrong.”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry. I used to have a roommate named Trevor, years ago. It’s a long story.”

  She released his hand and indicated the locomotive.

  “Do you pilot this thing?”

  “Pilot?” He laughed. “Yes, only I’m not a pilot. I’m called an engineer.”

  Victoria also laughed.

  “Silly of me. I didn’t know that.”

  “Haven’t you seen a steam engine before?”

  “Not up close. It’s amazing technology.”

  “Ancient technology, but yes—it is amazing. Would you like a tour?”

  “Absolutely! I was hoping you would offer.”

  For the next few minutes, Trevor walked her around the engine, showing her the major components. The water tank, the fire chamber, the boiler, pistons, driving rods, chimney, steam vents, and a dozen other details. He explained how the steam was generated and routed to the pistons, which drove the giant iron wheels forward.

  Victoria found it fascinating, but pretended even more interest than she felt.

  “What do you use for fuel?”

  “The original locos back on Terra used wood and coal, but this one uses oil. The other fuels require a fireman to keep the boiler going, but with oil it can be operated by a single person.”

  “Wow! This is amazing!” She rubbed a hand over one of the drive wheels, which stood higher than her head. “You must be pretty smart to understand all this stuff.”

  Trevor shrugged. “My dad is an engineer for the main line. I grew up around these things.”

  “Do you also work for the main line?”

  “No, I’m the personal engineer for Mr. Tinker-Smith.”

  Victoria tilted her head.

  “I’ve heard that name before. Tinker-Smith. Does he live here?”

  “Yes, this is his estate.”

  “I heard he’s very rich. It must be true, if he lives in a place like this.”

  Trevor nodded. He gazed at her as if she were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “So, are you planning to take a trip?” she asked.

  “What? Oh, no. I fire this thing up every day, just in case. Sometimes Mr. Tinker-Smith decides to take a ride at the last minute. He doesn’t like to wait for the steam to rise.”

&n
bsp; “Oh, impatient!” She smiled. “Does he go out often?”

  “Not often, but when he wants to go, I have to be ready.”

  “It must be exciting. But aren’t you afraid you’ll run into another train?”

  “Not at all. The railroad is very careful with train schedules and we always get top priority.”

  “You mean other trains have to wait?”

  “Exactly.”

  She gazed at the passenger car.

  “I’ll bet it’s very cozy in there.”

  “I’m not allowed inside, but I took a peek once and, yeah, it’s pretty fancy. Has a bedroom and everything.”

  “Wow. Nice.”

  Trevor crossed his arms and leaned against the locomotive cab.

  “You said you’re not from around here?”

  “No, I’m just visiting. When I saw this building, I had to check it out. I was hoping to get a tour.”

  Trevor’s smile faded.

  “That probably isn’t a good idea.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Well, it’s a private residence. Not open to the public.”

  “That’s too bad. I imagine it takes a lot of people to keep it up, huh? Rich people usually have live-in workers, don’t they?”

  “I don’t know about other rich people, but Mr. Tinker-Smith keeps nine or ten—” He halted. “I was going to say ‘servants’, but I’m not sure that’s the right word. ‘Staff’ is probably more accurate.”

  “I’ve never met a rich man before. What’s he like?”

  “Mr. Tinker-Smith? I have no complaints. He treats me well, and he pays me very well.”

  “I should hope so! Not many people have their own train pilots—I mean, engineers.”

  Trevor laughed.

  “Do you think I could meet him?”

  “I kind of doubt that. He’s a very private person.”

  “Maybe I could apply for a job?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you could try.”

  She tilted her head again. “You sound a little unsure about that.”

  “I just don’t think he needs any extra people. And he’s a bit eccentric.”

  “Eccentric?”

  “Yeah. He’s, you know, very friendly most of the time, but…he does have a temper.”

  Victoria shrugged. “Everybody gets mad sometimes.”

  Trevor nodded. He glanced down the rail spur to make sure no one was nearby.