Murder on the Titania and Other Steam-Powered Adventures
Page 25
“Oh. Then I beg your pardon, Miss—”
“You can just call me Lisa for now, Captain Ramos.”
A little flicker of surprise at that. Simms knew that while the name was well known enough, society seemed to be still in general denial of the fact that she happened to be a woman. Lisa must have been very clever to figure that out so quickly.
Captain Ramos continued on, “Lisa, then. Well, since you’ve decided to join us, would you care to explain why you decided to shoot your employer?”
Lisa’s lips compressed into a thin, displeased line. “He was a liar and a cheat. I only even took the job because I was running into some…serious cash flow problems. Clarkson talked a good game and the timeline was short, which was what I needed. But I figured out early on he was going to try to weasel out of paying me, if he could. He had more debt than a leopard has spots. He thought I wasn’t smart enough to figure that out.” Her expression was caught between a frown and a sharp, angry smile. “A lot of people think that.”
“Did you mean to shoot him?” Simms asked over the captain’s shoulder.
Lisa shook her head. “People are normally worth more alive than dead. Even worthless asses like him. He just… He lunged at me. I panicked.”
Somehow, that made Simms feel better. “Bad luck, that,” he commented. Though then he immediately felt strange for having said so. He might have thrown a guard or two off a train, but he’d never killed someone by shooting them.
“I see,” Captain Ramos said. “And what brought you out of your cabinet? I know that was before Mister Hartley tried to destroy the bridge.”
“How do you know that?”
“Hartley found an empty cabinet. He might have been rather drunk, but he wasn't that drunk. So why did you take it upon yourself to meet up with Clarkson? Did you think to raise your price, now that he was inescapably dependent upon you to complete the scheme? There's no reason at all Clarkson might have called you from the cabinet, and no means by which he could have done so to begin with.”
“Wouldn’t you? Ask for more money? Demand it? The man was a pig.”
“Perhaps.” Captain Ramos flicked her fingers. “Did you try to go back to the bridge, after?”
Lisa grimaced. “I'm on this ship too, you know. No, it was—it was all gone when I got back. Like a bomb had gone off. You said it was Hartley?”
“Acquainted with the gentleman?”
“I've heard him yell a lot. That cabinet doesn't muffle things as nicely as you’d think.”
Marta snorted. “That ties things up rather neatly. What an interesting confluence of lies coming home to roost. Well, good of you to come see us off.” She began to turn away.
Lisa took a step forward. “I want to go with you. I want off this ship.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Lisa shook her head. “You’re Captain Ramos. These aren’t your people here. I’m more one of your people than they are.”
“Be that as it may…no.” The captain’s tone was even more firm now. “Swindling the wealthy of their undeserved riches may be, indeed, something I consider a good bit of fun. But you placed this entire ship—including myself and my man Simms here—in very real danger with your scheme. I tend to take that personally.”
“It would have gone fine if Hartley hadn’t destroyed the puppet,” Lisa protested. “I even watched him do it from the vents. Damn waste. Damn, stupid waste.”
“It may have also not gone so fine when you decided to abandon your post to press your employer for a raise.” Marta shook her head. “No. I shan’t be throwing you to the tender mercies of Captain Murray’s guards with my own hands, but you are not welcome on my glider. And you might want to find somewhere else to be, as I’m about to open the cargo bay doors.”
“Do you know what happens to people like me in prison?” Lisa asked, her tone a little desperate.
Simms shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. He agreed with the captain to an extent, but Lisa did look very small and vulnerable.
“I think you have a very good chance of escaping on your own,” Captain Ramos said. “You’re obviously clever enough, and accustomed to using your size to your advantage, I’d wager. If you’re a bit lucky, they won’t find Clarkson’s body until you’ve landed.”
Simms took a glance around the crates. One of Clarkson’s shoes was just visible. “You didn’t…”
“Oh, no, Simms. Couldn’t have them poking about here while you were trying to work.”
He frowned. “Seems a bit indecent.”
“He wasn’t a terribly decent person,” Lisa said. She sniffed. Her eyes glittered with—oh hell, were those tears?
“Oh, please. Don’t try to play upon my sympathies, I haven’t any.” Captain Ramos snorted.
“She really doesn’t,” Simms muttered.
“Fine.” Lisa rubbed a hand across her eyes and straightened to her full diminutive height. Perhaps those hadn’t been real tears at all. “But I won’t forget this, Captain Ramos.”
“And neither shall I. Don’t hide in the ducts, I did tell them to look in there.” Captain Ramos turned toward Simms and jerked her chin toward the glider. “I do believe our work here is done.”
Simms nodded and stopped the bellows box, pulling the mask off and dropping it on top of the captain’s discarded skirt. “All right. Open the doors and I’ll see us gone.” He dug into the pocket of his work jacket and pulled out his flight goggles, slipping them over his head. He hazarded another glance at Lisa, but she had already disappeared. He decided that any helpful advice he might be able to offer—all of which really amounted to and don’t get caught—wouldn’t have been well received anyway.
Captain Ramos gave the little glider its push start, as she was securely attached to it via a harness. Simms didn't have the nerve for that sort of thing, after a bad experience that had involved a rickety bridge and Captain Ramos after she’d been at the peyote again. Once they’d steadied out, she climbed in through the canopy and slid it shut behind her.
“Deja vu, this is,” Simms remarked.
“I can’t seem to be on that ship without someone getting murdered,” the captain agreed. “They really ought to reconsider their clientele.”
“Wasn’t really the clientele this time.”
“You know, I’ve never solved a crime committed by a little person before. I wouldn’t have thought this particular voyage would fill such a void in my life.”
Simms snorted. “I suppose I'm glad you’re one step closer to completing your collection. This was all overpriced nonsense anyway if you ask me. Dancing about at ten thousand feet. I’d rather be flying like man was intended. Not trying to give it away to a bit of clockwork.” He paused, sighing. “Except the sausages. I rather liked those.”
About the Author
Alex Acks is a writer, geologist, and sharp-dressed sir. Their biker gang space witch novels, Hunger Makes the Wolf and Blood Binds the Pack, were published by Angry Robot Books under the pen name Alex Wells. They’ve had short fiction in Strange Horizons, Crossed Genres, Daily Science Fiction, Lightspeed Magazine and more, and written movie reviews for Strange Horizons and Mothership Zeta. They’ve also written several episodes of Six to Start’s Superhero Workout game. Alex lives in Denver (where they bicycle, drink tea, and twirl their ever-so-dapper mustache) with their two furry little bastards. For more information, see http://www.alexacks.com
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About QUEEN OF SWORDS PRESS
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