by Dan Knight
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“Are crimes always committed in the wee hours?” asked Shotgun.
“Seems like it, doesn’t it? Maybe crooks don’t have an agency to negotiate their contract.”
“What contract? My contract only gives you ten hours a day, and this ain’t one of them.”
“True, but you wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Jack parked his Andromeda next to a police van. An officer guarded the entrance to the substation’s service bay.
“Come to think of it, I’d rather tough out my own hours than owe my life to an agency.” Shotgun shivered in the cool tunnel. “No coffee, and no breakfast.”
“I asked, but you said we had to hurry. It’s a matter of life and death.”
“Yeah, yeah, being chivalrous is a pain.”
Jack nodded his agreement, and the elf and the dwarf made for the crime scene.
Following the officer’s directions, they crossed the bay. They gave the flood gates a nervous glance, and then turned upstream.
The crime scene was not hard to find. The number of fire fighters, police officers, and other responders going to and fro had pushed the technicians with the heavy instruments into the creek bed.
Portable lights brightened the sewer tunnel. Elves wearing the uniform of Nodlon’s Fire Department hurried away with a litter bearing the unfortunate girl.
Gumshoe resembled a bloodhound in his trench coat and fedora. The usual huddle of technicians surrounded him, and they waited several minutes before the Inspector waved for them to join him.
“Thank you for coming down here.” Gumshoe shook Jack’s hand.
“Is it Angela Christie?” asked Jack. “I heard about the Capricorn on Mercury News.”
“Yes, it’s Angela,” Gumshoe pushed his fedora back. “Pretty, too, she was, but she was not molested. She was covered with minor burns, but that didn’t kill her. She didn’t die of any natural causes. Her chip was ripped out, and she died of blood loss. All of her blood is missing. And the only exit wound is in her forehead. If it’s not magic, I’ll hand in my badge.”
“Mercury News said a Capricorn was found in her dorm.”
“Yeah, housekeeping found it.” Gumshoe shook his head.
“What else do we know?” asked Jack.
“She worked in the Octagon.”
“Yeah, I heard Nodlon Biots contracted her to the Ministry. She worked in a lab of some sort.”
“Right, she was an administrative assistant for a scientist, Felix Abrams. He made the first report when she didn’t come to work.”
“Do you think he’s a suspect?”
“No, Abrams is a widower and he lives alone. Rock solid alibi though. He works in the Octagon and lives in the Crown. His every move is on camera for the last two weeks.”
“That’s a change for the Zodiac case,” Jack smiled. “Someone’s on camera.”
“Right you are, Jack. I checked into his report, though. Just wanted to see why we didn’t follow up on it. Dwarves are reported every night now. In the last twenty-four hours, we took several reports. Dispatch gave Angela a low priority. It just didn’t seem suspicious.”
“What?!”
“Angela’s been out sick several times over the last few weeks.”
“Were they having an affair?”
“No, Jack, we have no reason to think so.”
“So, why did Abrams call? If he’s not having an affair, why worry about a biot?”
“She’s always called in. She obtained passes to go to the doctor. Each time she’s turned up or called before she missed work. This time she didn’t call.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“We dropped the ball, and she fell through the cracks.” Gumshoe looked at his wingtips and kicked a stone.
“No, old man,” said Jack. “Why she was sick? Maybe she went to a chop shop?”
The Inspector grinned, “You missed your calling Jack. She did go to a chop shop…”
“Let me guess,” Shotgun interrupted. “Angela is a New Gem client, and Dr. Balaam is her doctor.”
“Bingo,” Gumshoe nodded. “If you boys decide to change careers, I’ll make sure Nodlon Yard has openings. She started gene therapy about six weeks ago.”
“What did she do for Abrams?” Jack glanced at the crime scene. “Is there any correlation with Anna McCarthy?”
“Nothing special about her work, it was just administrative stuff. She was Abrams secretary. She answered calls, entered a little data, and helped him write reports. Anna did much the same thing for Colonel Khan.”
“I heard on the news she may have worked for the Princess.”
“Yes, now there’s a disturbing connection.” Gumshoe poked his tablet with a stylus. “A few months back, she substituted for Virginia’s handmaid, Nadia. Since then, Nadia disappeared. She was last seen just before the Princess visited you.”
“That was Sunday,” Jack sucked in a deep breathe. “Princess Virginia saw me Sunday. That’s when I saw Anna.”
“Yes, small world isn’t it? Now, days later Anna’s dead, Angela’s dead, and Nadia’s still missing.”
“So, the Princess may be the connection.” Jack grimaced and shook a finger. “Has any other maiden been the Princess’ handmaid?”
“Yes,” Gumshoe shook his head. “Apparently, it’s an honor. Virginia gave us a lengthy list. Two others are missing. Delilah and Blondie. We haven’t found them yet. I’m not holding out much hope, but I’ve got my fingers crossed.”
“Under that trench coat beats the heart of a softie,” said Jack.
“Thanks, Jack,” Gumshoe smiled. “I’m not sure though about Virginia being connected. By far most of the dwarves are not connected in any way to the Crown. And Evan Labe never worked for anyone in the royal household.”
“He was a Bio-Soft engineer,” said Jack. “An up and comer who earned enough to pay for his own apartment.” Jack tapped chin. “Evan worked on Ministry projects.”
“A lot of biot engineers work on Ministry projects, Jack. That’s no news.”
“Mercury News mentioned a micro-biot warfare lab,” said Jack. “Any leads there?”
“They stonewalled us there.” Gumshoe huffed. “Everything’s top secret. I can make a few guesses. Abrams doesn’t just work there. He’s not the head cheese, but according to the staff, Abrams’ the brains.”
“So he designs bugs to kill us all?” Jack frowned. “Sounds like a mad scientist. Maybe, he moonlights as a mad man? Any chance he’s Nodlon’s version of Jekyll and Hyde?”
“Who knows what nightmares dwell in the hearts of men, Jack? I can’t be sure, but I’m told he designs antidotes to known diseases. They don’t build bio-weapons in that lab. At least that’s the story they gave me. How would I know any different?”
“Now who is being naïve, old man?”
“Touché, Jack.”