That, of course, didn’t change the fact that Vale hated her hair. She hated the color and hated the length.
As she exited the cramped one-person bathroom that was apparently the best the government could provide for the main Peace Officer Headquarters in Pibroch City, she wondered what color she could try next. And maybe I’ll cut it shorter.
That thought got pushed to the back of her head when she bumped into Soon-Li Kim. Her fellow detective was practically rolling her eyes. “That Starfleeter’s here.”
Vale blinked and double-checked the chronometer on the wall. “She’s early.”
“You know how they are about promptness.” This time Soon-Li really did roll her eyes. “That one’s pretty typical—probably spits and polishes her socks.”
Snorting, Vale tried to picture the uptight blonde she met yesterday performing that rather absurd action. To her lack of surprise, the image took.
Soon-Li wasn’t finished. “We really should be able to do this on our own—I mean, you start bringing Starfleet into this, and everything becomes a major to-do.”
That prompted another snort. “It already is a major to-do. We’ve got two dead bodies, and not a shred of useful evidence. Besides, this is Starfleet. They deal with crazy stuff that doesn’t make sense on a weekly basis.”
“I guess.” Soon-Li turned and looked back at the detective office where she, Vale, Johannsen, and Malvolia did their work, and where Vale assumed Corsi was waiting. “Still, I don’t like it, I don’t like Starfleet, and I don’t like her.”
“Nobody’s asking you to.” Vale didn’t add that she didn’t like the situation or Corsi much either. She did like Starfleet, had always admired the work they did. There were times when she had thought about going to the Academy instead of following in her mother’s footsteps.
Right, and then have the whole family disown me. That’ll happen. Vale knew that her becoming anything other than an Izarian peace officer would devastate her mother. Never mind the fact that Starfleet security looked a lot more challenging…
She went on to the office, while Soon-Li continued to wherever she was going. Probably checking into that missing persons case. Can’t have the rest of law enforcement grind to a halt just because two people died.
Expecting the same stick-up-her-ass officer she’d met on the Roosevelt the previous day, Vale was surprised to see a much more pleasant-looking person standing in the stuffy office that she shared with the other three detectives. Where yesterday, Corsi looked like she’d rather be cleaning the waste extractor with her tongue than take on this duty, today she looked—well, happy.
“Lieutenant, good to see you.”
Corsi turned and faced Vale. The lieutenant was a lot taller than the young officer; Vale was used to that, as most people were taller than her. However, this one, she noted, used her height to her advantage. She didn’t just stand, she loomed.
“Is it always this hot in here?” Corsi asked.
Vale couldn’t help but smile. “Little different from the arctic tundra in your CO’s office?”
Corsi smiled right back. “Actually, it’s a nice change.”
“Let me show you what we’ve got.” Vale walked over to her desk and took a seat, indicating the guest seat for Corsi. She called up the records on the two homicides.
Or, rather, tried to. After banging the side of the comm unit, the records actually came up. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “This thing hasn’t been upgraded since Praxis exploded.”
“Really?” Corsi’s eyes widened.
“Well, no,” Vale said quickly. That Klingon moon blew up over seventy years earlier, after all. “This is actually better than what they had in my mother’s day, a fact she never tires of reminding me when she wants me to know how good I have it.”
“Your mother was a peace officer, too?”
Vale nodded. “Until she retired last year, yeah. Her father before her was also, as were both his parents before him. Kind of the family business.”
“I know what you mean. My family’s got a long line of service of some kind in it. In any case,” Corsi said quickly—Vale assumed she didn’t feel comfortable talking about her personal life—“you should have access to the records of all homicides in the last ten years in Federation space, as well as any allied powers that share those types of records with us.”
“Good.” Vale turned to the computer station and started entering in commands. When she banged the side again, the commands took. If I joined Starfleet, I’d get to use up-to-date equipment, probably. “What I’m doing right now is a basic search to see if there are any commonalities to our case.”
“Like what?”
Vale realized that Corsi didn’t really know the specifics of her own case, and if she was to be the liaison, she should know. Of course, she could just read the reports, she thought, once again in her mother’s voice, but Vale didn’t mind repeating the facts again. Sometimes you caught something in the retelling you didn’t before.
Once she got the search running, she called up the images of the two dead bodies to her screen and turned it toward Corsi. The images were stacked one over the other, both human women—ninety percent of Izar’s population was human—both looking to be in their thirties or forties, both with long darkish hair of about the same length as Vale’s own, and both lying on a sidewalk. The one on top was facedown; the one on the bottom was on her back, so on her you could see the circular chest wound.
“The victim on top is Marianne Getreu, a librarian working at the Garthtown Public Library, in the special collections section. She lived alone, and was walking back from a late night working at the library to her house. The murder occurred on a side street about half a kilometer from her home.”
“She walked?” Corsi asked.
Nodding, Vale said, “The weather’s pretty nice in Garthtown this time of year. But it was late at night, so there were no witnesses. Cause of death was a phaser shot to the chest that vaporized skin, several ribs, and twenty percent of her heart. Death was probably painful but quick. It was a type-two phaser set on level four.”
“The burn setting,” Corsi said unnecessarily.
“Yeah, hence the ‘painful but quick’ part.” She pointed to the other victim. “That’s Kelly Fleet, an actor with a troupe called Mermaid’s Revenge. They’ve been specializing in neoclassical Betazoid theatre.”
“Why is a Betazoid theatrical troupe called that?”
Vale smirked. “Some mysteries even a detective of my skill can’t solve. Anyhow, same COD.”
“Same phaser?”
She nodded. “That’s the one thing these two do have in common besides being female and having long hair. The resonance pattern is the same for both phasers.”
“Have you scanned for the phaser with that pattern?”
“The scan’s been running constantly, both in Garthtown and elsewhere, but Garthtown is a city of six hundred million, plus the rest of the populace of Izar. It’s a big planet, and picking out one phaser from all that isn’t easy.”
“Starfleet has top-of-the-line sensors. I’ll have the Roosevelt scan for the phaser also.”
Vale hadn’t thought of that. “Couldn’t hurt. I’ll send the resonance pattern up there.” She called up the autopsy reports. “Fleet lived with three other members of the troupe in a house in the suburbs of Garthtown. She liked to take walks in a park near their house. She was on her way to the park when she was killed.” She leaned back in her chair. “The thing is—there are no witnesses and no trace evidence in either case. No DNA residua, nothing left behind at the scene, not a goddamn thing.”
“No commonality between the two women?”
“Nothing we could find.” Vale let out a breath through her teeth. “We’ve checked everything, tried everything. Unless that phaser turns up, we’re stuck. And even if it does, given how clean the scene is, I’m willing to bet there’s nothing on the weapon, either.”
Corsi looked dubious. “C’mon.”
Throwing up her hands, Vale said, “I just call ’em like I see ’em.”
“I can’t believe there isn’t anything.”
Vale couldn’t blame her. She didn’t believe it, either. Before she could say anything, however, the computer beeped. The search came back to the front of her screen. “This is interesting.”
Corsi leaned forward to look at the screen. “What?”
Vale read off the results of her search. “Tarsas III four years ago. Three Vulcan women, all of whom had short brown hair, none of whom had anything else in common, all killed with type-one phasers set on burn. No trace evidence, never solved.
“Berengaria two years ago. Three Bolian women, all of whom had medium-length white hair, also nothing in common besides that and being killed by laser drills. No trace evidence, never solved.
“And Alpha Centauri six months ago. Three Trill women, all of whom had red hair of varying lengths.”
Corsi was also reading. “Killed by type-three phasers set on burn. I’m amazed there was anything left of their chests.”
Vale checked the autopsy reports. “There wasn’t much. And the same lack of evidence.” She leaned back and blew out a breath, running a hand through her hated auburn hair. “This is bad. We’ve got a major serial killer on our hands, one who’s good enough to leave no trace behind at eleven murders.”
Standing up, Corsi said, “I need to call the ship. Starfleet Command needs to be aware of this, and we need to get full information from Berengaria, Tarsas, and Centauri.”
Vale peered at the screen. “I think we’ve got it all, but sure, go ahead.” She looked up and pointed to the doorway out into the large squad room where the regular officers had their desks. “If you go out to the squad room, find Officer Giacoia. He can set you up with a comm link.”
“Thanks.” Corsi moved to the door, then stopped. “Listen, Officer Vale—we’re gonna get this guy. Starfleet’s got your back, and we don’t lose.”
Vale said, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” In her heart, though, she didn’t believe it. Eleven murders. This is insane. How the hell can anyone get away with this?
Corsi contacted Commander Znirka-Tul and filled her in on the situation. While they were talking, the commander reported that Vale had sent the resonance frequency along, and they’d start scanning.
Then, since she had a comm unit to herself anyhow—Officer Giacoia had taken her to a small room that had a comm unit and a large viewer—she decided to contact Dar.
“Hey there, gorgeous. Can’t get enough of me, huh?”
Corsi smiled. After last night, she never wanted to leave Dar’s side. Duty managed to get her away—his and hers, as he was in the midst of a major inventory—but she numbered their time together last night, from the glorious dinner at the Bolian restaurant to dessert at the Italian café to the entire night in his bed to falling asleep in his arms, as one of the best nights of her entire life.
“Maybe not, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to beg off a repeat performance tonight.” She filled him in on what Vale told her, and what they found on the other three worlds.
Dar looked devastated. “God, I remember what happened on Berengaria—this is connected?”
“Looks like.”
“I thought this kind of thing didn’t—” He visibly shuddered.
“Anyhow, I need to stay on here until this guy’s caught. Vale’s way out of her depth here.”
“I would think anybody would be. This isn’t exactly run-of-the-mill.”
Corsi smiled. “I’m security. Not run-of-the-mill is our specialty. We’ll catch this bastard, don’t you worry. And then—I promise the biggest celebration of your life.”
Dar’s beautiful face broke into an incredibly goofy grin. “Sounds like something to look forward to. Hurry up and catch this guy.”
“I’ll do my best.” Then she hesitated, and said, “I love you, Dar.”
“Right back at you, Domenica.”
She signed off and leaned back in her chair. For the moment, she didn’t think about eleven dead bodies and a killer who’d gone from planet to planet without getting caught.
That prompted a thought. She tried to call up a record, but the comm unit was only a comm unit, not multipurpose like any decent Starfleet station would be. Going back out into the squad room, she sought out Officer Giacoia.
The diminutive officer was nowhere to be found, but she did see the woman who’d greeted her—Kim?—standing with a little kid who bore an obvious resemblance.
These people are taking their children to their work in law enforcement, and we’re supposed to trust them to solve this?
“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” the officer asked.
“I need a computer terminal. I just thought of something from Starfleet records that might help.”
“Are you with Starfleet?” the kid asked.
Smiling down at the boy, Corsi said, “Yes, I am.”
“You’re an engineer, right?”
God, what a revolting concept. Corsi hated engineers. “No, I’m with security. We wear the same colors as them.”
“So you’re like my mom?”
No, I’m more professional. But Corsi wasn’t impolitic enough to say that out loud.
The mom in question said, “That’s enough, Tomo.” The boy clammed up, and Kim looked at Corsi. “I apologize for my son, Lieutenant. I’m heading home anyhow, so why don’t you use my terminal? It’s the one across from Christine’s.”
Nodding, Corsi said, “Thanks.”
Leaving mother and son behind, Corsi went back into the detectives’ room. Vale was right where Corsi left her.
“I just thought of something, and I want to check it out. About a hundred years ago, there was this thing called Redjac—”
“I know what you mean,” Vale said without looking up from her reading. Corsi walked over to the younger woman’s desk to see that Vale was reading the reports from Berengaria Enforcement on the second set of murders. “I read up on that right after we found Getreu’s body. The thing is, even if it is that Redjac thing, we still need to find the person Redjac’s possessing to do these killings,” she looked up, “and did I just casually talk about people being possessed?”
Corsi shrugged. It wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing she’d seen in Starfleet. “We should contact the Roosevelt, see if—”
“I did that as soon as you guys made orbit. I heard back from your operations officer after I left the meeting with you and Lieutenant Waldheim yesterday. She told me that, accounting for a hundred years of drift, Redjac wouldn’t be anywhere near any inhabited planets, and the chances of it encountering a ship in interstellar space are infinitesimal.”
“But it’s still possible that we’re dealing with Redjac.”
It was Vale’s turn to shrug. “Maybe. But it doesn’t really fit the MO—Redjac always used blades. And even if it is him, like I said, it doesn’t really change anything useful, like what we do to find him.”
Corsi had to grudgingly admit that the officer had a point. Still and all, she requested access to the Roosevelt’s computer. She wanted to refamiliarize herself with the Starfleet mission that discovered Redjac on Argelius a century ago.
Chapter
9
U.S.S. da Vinci
in search operations between Stations Kel-Artis and Deep Space 9
NOW
T ev awoke from his nap, feeling very refreshed. The fact that his bunk was located in a Kharzh’ullan passenger shuttle didn’t seem to matter all that much.
“Mr. Tev is expressing a valid concern. Giving me something to think about. A little bluntness is a good way to do that.”
A Kharzh’ullan was sitting in the seat opposite Tev’s bunk. “How long until we reach the base station?” Tev asked.
The Kharzh’ullan checked the chronometer on his wrist. “I never was good at math. Should be soon. Half an hour, perhaps.”
“Good.”
“What I’m trying to say, in the
nicest possible manner, Tev, is that I’d like to work on this solo.”
Something went wrong. Tev realized that the shuttle wasn’t decelerating, even though at half an hour from their destination, the slowdown should have commenced. The shuttle was bringing them down the elevator that took one from the massive orbital ring around Kharzh’ulla to the planet’s surface. Realizing that his engineering acumen could be of use, he clambered out of his bunk and started down the ladder to the conductor’s level.
“You’re wasting your time,” the Kharzh’ullan said, and only then did Tev realize that his fellow passenger was Eevraith, the one who took credit for Tev’s own study of the orbital ring.
Ignoring Eevraith, Tev continued down the ladder.
“Why allow everyone to believe the paper was his and not yours?”
By the time he got to the conductor’s level, alarms were blaring. “What’s happening?”
The Kharzh’ullan conductor turned around—this was also Eevraith. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am,” he said impatiently. “Tell me what’s happening, Eevraith.”
“The brakes appear to have failed. We’re in free fall.”
Tev asked, “What of the emergency brakes?”
Eevraith shook his head.
“There must be something we can do,” said Tev.
“There is nothing you can do, Mor glasch Tev. You know nothing about the Ring.”
“I’d say you were right about everything except about its being unoccupied. There, you’re dead wrong.”
Ignoring Eevraith’s words, Tev said, “I think if we restart the computer system, we might be able to restore the electromagnetic polarity.” He went to the nearest console and began the shutdown sequence.
Then the station went dark. As it did, the shuttle rocked as it bounced off the guide rails, out of control. “Can you restart that console?” he asked Eevraith, who looked ridiculous in the conductor’s uniform.
“Of course, I can. I know everything about the Ring, thanks to my stealing your work.”
“The next time you step out of line with me, I’ll have your ass in front of a court-martial at warp ten.”
“Tev? Tev, I don’t want to die.”
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