Directorate School (The Directorate Book 1)

by Pam Uphoff

  "It's also a part of the Arabic culture. A part that has, unfortunately, stuck around." Ra'd eyed her. "I hope you didn't step inside his home deliberately. He could charge you with assault."

  "That's the stupidest thing ever. Why would you coddle rapists? Witches mostly kill them. And no, I didn't deliberately enter, he grabbed my arm and jerked me through the door."

  Ebsa bit his lip. "In that case, you could file a complaint."

  Ra'd frowned. "Does he have security cameras?"

  Again, the archaic terms.

  Azko was shaking his head. "First thing he will have done is wipe the relevant records. Unless he was planning ahead, in which case the cams would have all been turned off. Guys like that know how to avoid incriminating evidence."

  Nighthawk shrugged. "Fool."

  "His dad's the chairman of the District Council. Good pals with every politician in the region. He can cause a lot of trouble."

  Nighthawk shrugged, and flipped her computer on.

  They all studied, looked over each other's work . . .

  "I may manage to pass Latin, yet." Ebsa eyed his homework. Pushed the send button. Even Paer was looking less worried. She'd crowed over an eighty-nine on a calculus test.

  "Your lab report ought to pass muster, but must you be so cruel to the common comma?" Azko grinned. "Sometimes they are necessary, and sometimes they are not. Other times, shorter sentences will lead to less confusion on the part of your readers."

  "Thanks, Z."

  Heavy footsteps in the stacks.

  They looked around. Policemen, half a dozen, led by a man in a suit.

  "Nighthawk Swishdaut. We would like to speak to you about the murder of Edge Withione Fredrick Virginia."

  "Murder? He's dead! What happened?"

  "When did you last see him?"

  "Umm, two and a half hours ago? Close to that. What happened?"

  "We'll ask the questions, if you don't mind Miss. Can you describe your last meeting with him?"

  "He asked me if I could identify an artifact he had, that he said he thought might be from Comet Fall. It was at his house. When I waited on the porch, he said to stop being stupid, grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. I gave him a simple judo throw, turned and walked out."

  "Judo throw? He's a senior, and well trained in hand-to-hand fighting. 'A simple judo throw' is not going to inconvenience him."

  "Simple and ineffective are two different things. I merely needed his hands off me long enough to step outside. And it was barely one step. I assumed that being in public would restrain his behavior."

  "And that was insufficient time to notice that you'd killed him?"

  "He was being much too loud and insulting to have been injured, let alone dead, when I left. Wedge and City were walking up the sidewalk as I left. No doubt they can tell you all about it."

  "On a nickname basis with all the Action Team trainees, are you?"

  "Those are the names they asked me to use. I am not sure of the spelling of their actual names."

  Ebsa opened his mouth to supply the names.

  The suit shook his head. "As it happens, I have already spoken to them. They called us when they found their friend's body."

  Nighthawk's brows drew together. "You think he died in the thirty seconds between my leaving and their entering?"

  "Thirty seconds?"

  "Or less. I glanced back and they were walking in."

  "Right. Miss Nighthawk, you are under arrest for the murder . . .Hit her!"

  A policeman darted forward and slapped her shoulder.

  "Ow! What . . . "

  "Methalformaline. Gathering power for a magic spell was not a wise decision."

  "I called the embassy. I have no reason to attack any of you."

  "The Comet Fall Embassy is in Paris, nearly six thousand kilometers away. Don't bullshit me." He turned to the other policemen. "Cuff her."

  "The Disco office is in Gate City, a third that distance. The foreign student program is arranged through them."

  "Yeah, right. You telepath two thousand kay? Give it up Chickie."

  Nighthawk held her hands out frowning. "I dropped him flat on his back. I do not believe he could have hit his head hard enough to be injured, let alone killed."

  The policeman wrenched her arm around behind her back, and held it high enough that Ebsa winced in sympathy, while he brought her other arm around to clip on the cuff.

  "We'll get you a lawyer, send him in." Ebsa promised.

  "Call both the Comet Fall Embassy in Paris and the Disco Embassy in Gate City."

  The policeman loomed. "You'd better not call anyone, Clostuone."

  Paer growled. From between the bodyguards that had closed in as the police approached. "I will call my father."

  "Thanks, Paer. Damn it. I really didn't want to be the one who tested the limits of the treaty."

  " . . . shouldn't have killed anyone, then."

  "I really don't think I can have. Surely a good solid look at the evidence will show that."

  Half the policemen walked her out.

  The other half turned to them. "Now, let's talk about Miss Nighthawk. I believe we'll split you lot up and see what you can remember."

  Ebsa got hauled off to the side, first to repeat everything Nighthawk had said this afternoon about her encounter with Edge. Then everything he could remember about the last two and a half months . . . it took hours. And then he was 'escorted' to the police station to read over a statement, change numerous slanted rephrasings, and finally sign it.

  It was well after midnight when he was finally allowed to leave. He found Paer, Heak and Azko waiting outside. With four bodyguards, standing closer than usual.

  "I was beginning to think they'd arrested you as well." Paer was looking upset. "There's a problem with transatlantic phone lines. And my comm is dead. Whatever for? I'm beginning to think this isn't just a criminal investigation."

  Ebsa nodded. "I'm wondering why it was two and half hours before they tracked down Nighthawk. Wedge and City ought to have called the police immediately, right?"

  "Right. Well, I suppose the police had to respond to the call, and then notify the Investigator. But we've all got our electronics, they should have been able to find any of us . . . Here's Ra'd, looking meaner than ever."

  "With cause." He crossed his arms.

  "Did Nighthawk carry a comm all the time? Well, her comp would have a locator on it, but possibly not one in the campus police system." Azko was frowning. "They didn't have any campus cops with them."

  "They knew who we were. They didn't ask for names and they knew I was a Clostuone." Ebsa looked back at the police building. "I wonder how long locating Nighthawk ought to have taken, and . . . "

  "Wedge and City would have told them all about her friends." Ra'd looked over at Paer. "What did your father say?"

  "I can't reach him." Paer glared at the nearest bodyguard. "And some peoples' priorities are skewed. "I'm heading for the safe house, to use the radio."

  Which was full of static and failed to lock into the Paris comm system.

  "Some backup communications, you've got there. And the Atlantic relay is out? Really?" Ra'd scowled at the offending radio.

  Ebsa stared at a blank bit of wall and tried to think. This can't be a coincidence. So . . . Why? And who could arrange it? President Orde or Director Urfa. The Director of Interior Relations. The sub-director of the North American Region. The Director of External Relations . . . umm, no. He wouldn't have any control over the communications channels. Officially.

  So the problem is probably in Interior Relations. He turned and looked at the presidential guards. "Have you swept the neighborhood for anything that could be deliberately interfering with your communications? A radio frequency generator?"

  Glowers.

  "Because really, isolating the president's daughter ought to be raising alarms, shouldn't it?" He turned to Paer. "So, how does one go about finding a good lawyer?"

  Chapter Sixteen
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  20 Shawwal 1402 yp

  Three hours of sleep. His run times suffered badly. He almost nodded off in the Magic class. Paid attention and managed to get through chem lab. Then they all went to the law firm Paer had called.

  The secretary looked down her nose at them. From her seat behind an enormous arc of polished wood. "The honorable Orro is with a client. Until we have a signed release from the . . . person you mentioned, we cannot speak about this matter to outsiders.

  "Would you like to make an appointment to speak to the honorable Orro?"

  "Yes. At as early a time as possible."

  "Seven hundred hours, tomorrow. If your friend has allowed him to speak to you about her case."

  At seven the next morning, the secretary sent them off with a minion, to a conference room and a senior partner.

  Thin and predatory, gray hair expensively styled, quick dismissive movements of his hands. "And what pray tell, am I supposed to do with a client who repudiates what she confessed to under a truth match? Who won't be truthful to me?"

  Ebsa stared at the lawyer in dismay. "Do you have the transcript of the truth match? Did the priests agree that that is what she said?"

  "Chief of Police Wrde himself truthed her. Do you think he's lying?"

  Ra'd frowned down at him. "You didn't talk to them."

  Glare. "Look I'm sympathetic about the rape issue, but she knew the law. Killing him is murder, according to law. She'll be formally charged this afternoon. I will keep on top of the police, make sure they do investigate the circumstances. I doubt we can get a verdict of accidental homicide. But perhaps leniency, as she didn't mean to kill him. Just escape."

  She didn't kill him, damn it.

  He watched the lawyer walk out. Looked at Ra'd. "So. You want to try and get anything out of Wedge or City?"

  "It's time for classes. We won't be able to find them until Martial Arts."

  "And we missed breakfast. C'mon, we need to run." Ebsa looked back as Ra'd didn't move.

  Ra'd scowled. "You get to history. And chemistry. I'll copy your history notes later. I'm going to the arraignment, see what's going on."

  He got a glare when he slipped into History late. Barely noticed what was going on in Latin. Forced himself to take notes in O chem.

  Martial Arts was not pleasant. Arvi spread them out and they drilled through katas for the entire hour. No group work at all. Wedge and City stayed in the back row. Ebsa, Ra'd and Azko in the first. After he dismissed them Arvi stayed, arms crossed, until they left. And when they hovered outside, he came out and glared at them. "Go. Away."

  They left. Reluctantly.

  "Closed. They didn't let anyone into the arraignment. 'Diplomatic issues' they said. I talked to the lawyer after. Zip. He told me Nighthawk accused the Chief of Police of lying. In court, to his face. Ebsa . . . I don't hardly know her." Ra'd looked baffled. "I'm not a detective. I don't even know where to start."

  "We need to know what happened. We don't even know what we're investigating. What was the actual cause of death? Maybe he just hit his head wrong, brain hemorrhage or something. And he was bleeding to death, even as he was cursing her."

  Ra'd scowled.

  Ebsa slumped. "It's these stupid rape laws. Let's call Paer and see if she managed to talk to her father. The security people ought to be throwing fits about this. Makes me wonder if it's not targeted just at us. And Paer's guards aren't helping a bit."

  "They aren't police, they aren't friends. Their job is to protect Paer, and they are damned good at it. They don't care about a . . . a sordid murder. If anything, they want to keep this as far away from Paer as possible. And not involve the president."

  "Shouldn't that decision . . . be made by Urfa, not a guard." Ebsa tried to imagine Rael ignoring the situation, and failed.

  "Yes. If they could communicate with him, no doubt he would have ordered one thing or another. But it's been less than a day. They aren't going to panic when there is no sign of a threat to Paer. And if they saw that, they'd throw her into one of those bulletproof cars and drive through the corridor to Paris."

  "Yeah. Well." Ebsa hesitated, glancing toward the dorm. Was that Wedge, just walking in? "Here's my history notes, should be straightforward, out of the textbook stuff. All about Granite Peak, and the discovery of our colony by the Earth. Today we got our side. Tomorrow we're going to get the Earthers' propaganda." Would Wedge talk to me? "I need to get something from my room, meet you at the library."

  Ebsa strode down the path. Time for a bit of truth around here. He stopped dead inside the door. Oops. I wasn't expecting seven of them . . . but even if it gets painful, I might manage to get some answers.

  Wedge and City were leading the pack.

  "So, I take it you guys were planning a three way rape? That's just so classy."

  "Shut up, you Native Lover." Wedge put the palm of his hand on Ebsa's chest and shoved him into the wall.

  Ebsa stepped away. ­Don't get pinned and pounded too soon. "Umm, no, I think that's Edge and you two. Well, for some values of love. Or love as understood by Action trainees."

  Seven loomers.

  Ogly grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the wall and into the center of the room. "Look you idiot. Our friend has been killed, and yours is going for the chop. I understand your distress. You'd better understand ours. And not push it."

  Ebsa eyed him, then looked at City, looming to his left. "I just want to know why you lied to the police about Edge already being dead, when you walked in. Did you kill him?"

  It was probably Wedge that hit him. First. It got a bit confused, after that. He mostly tried to protect himself, and withdraw. Finally made it out the doors, but that wasn't far enough.

  By the time the Campus Police arrived he was being held by two men and systematically punched by several others.

  Twenty-four hours in a drugged snooze in the Doc Box at the clinic. Then the police wanted to speak to him.

  "Your girl friend committed murder. That's insufficient excuse for initiating a fight. It's not going to save you from a charge of Public Disorder. Now do you have anything to say?"

  "I just asked a question. They turned it into a fight."

  "You accused them of a capital crime."

  "I wanted to know how a man could go from cussing as his intended victim walked away to dead in less than the thirty seconds it took them to walk up to the door. She dumped the jerk on the floor right inside the door, so it's not like they could miss him."

  "She pushed him down the stairs from the upper floor. He was dead when he hit the ground. Massive head trauma along with the broken neck."

  Ebsa frowned. "I . . . don't think a judo throw from right inside the door could produce anything that could be mistaken for those injuries. And that far from the door."

  "Why no. They couldn't. And I've heard that all three have been truthed, so it's going to be a really short trial. Which you are not going to see, because you are going to be seeing an entirely different judge."

  After a lovely night and half of the third day in jail, there was a flurry of signing and he was released.

  "Lucky boy. Your victims declined to file any charges." A completely different policeman, but just as unsympathetic. "Don't get into any more fights."

  Professor Ivy was waiting for him. Arms crossed and wearing a thoroughly pissed expression. "I thought you were more intelligent than that."

  "I thought they were stupider than that. If they hadn't dropped charges, I could have insisted on truth matches."

  "That is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard . . . No wait, I've been here a long time . . . let me think . . . no, no. That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Do not, repeat, do not stick your nose into a murder trial. You are neither Sherlock Holmes, nor Hercule Poirot."

  "Yeah. I'm more the bumbling type.

  "Indeed. They have already been truthed, dammit! Get that through your head."

  Ebsa shut his mouth firmly, and stalked away.

&n
bsp; "Where are you going?"

  "To ask the priests who witnessed the truthing what Nighthawk actually said."

  "Oh . . . do not make me request the police to detain you for psychiatric examination."

  "Professor Ivy . . . someone is lying and I don't think it's Nighthawk."

  The Prophet's park held the mosque in the west and the church in the east.

  Ebsa started with the mosque. It was, as was usually the case, double the size of the church. After all, the Islamic Alliance had won the War of Unification, and New York had been only lightly recolonized from South America after the nuclear war more than three hundred years prior to that. He chased around through several levels of bureaucracy only to be told that no priest from here had been summoned by the police over the matter. They pointed him at the right door to find the path across the park, and dropped him from their regard.

  He took the path and found the church. Again to deal with people more concerned with education, charity, counseling . . . and no one who could find anyone who'd truthed a murder suspect four days prior.

  Frustrated, he returned to the campus and found Ra'd in the cafeteria. He loaded a tray with whatever was left and sat beside him in a circle of exclusion.

  "You really ought to have told me you were going to pick a fight."

  "I thought I could get them to talk . . . you're . . . a bit antagonistic."

  Snort. "And you aren't? Did it do any good?"

  "No. They dropped charges. I think they realized I could insist on them being truthed. Damn it. City really flashed, when I asked if he'd killed Edge. I think he was shocked. But, I did get info out of the campus police. Edge fell down those stairs, broke his neck and massive head trauma. It wasn't Nighthawk's judo throw, at all."

  Ra'd stared into space. "Or she lied to us. I don't know what to believe."

  "I don't like how much secrecy is building up around it. I couldn't find any priests who'd truthed her. Maybe they are just so disorganized they don't have a record, but I'm wondering if there were any unbiased witnesses."