The Domino Pattern

SEVENTEEN

I woke up seven hours later, still tired, and with an aching throat where Emikai had delivered his object lesson. The elusive thought that had been nagging at my brain after my first midnight conversation with the Modhri still eluded me, but on the plus side the possibility that our new ally was trying to kill me was looking considerably less likely here in the light of day.

“I don’t think the Modhri is the killer,” I told Bayta over breakfast. “If he’d wanted me dead, he could have done it when he took me out after all the Fillies started coming down with digestive trouble. As you yourself pointed out, he had Witherspoon’s medical bag right there, with hypos and any number of potential overdoses to choose from.”

“Except that he wouldn’t have had a built-in perpetrator to take the blame, the way he would have if Logra Emikai had killed you,” Bayta pointed out.

“Right, but why would he care?” I countered. “It would have cost him at most one more walker, whichever one he picked to take the fall. After killing off two other walkers, that hardly seems like a consideration.”

“Perhaps,” Bayta said. She still didn’t seem convinced, but with her professional mask back up I couldn’t tell what she was thinking or feeling. “Are we starting with him, then?”

“Actually, I was thinking we’d start with Dr. Aronobal,” I said. “She’s had plenty of time now to wonder where her pal Emikai’s gotten to. Worried people often blurt out things they would keep to themselves if they were calmer.”

“That seems reasonable.” She took a final bite of her breakfast, her other hand reaching under the table. “Here—you should probably carry this.”

I reached under the table, and she pressed the kwi into my hand. “Thanks,” I said, slipping it into my pocket. “And thanks for the assist last night, too, when Emikai was making a run for it. You were right on top of things.”

She nodded, thanks or simple acknowledgment, I couldn’t tell which. “You ready?” she asked.

I sighed to myself. This was going to be a very long day. “Sure,” I said. “Let’s go.”

We left the dining car and headed once again on the long walk toward the rear of the train. As usual, Asantra Muzzfor nodded politely as we passed the apparently eternal card game he had going with his two contract-team companions, while the other two Fillies, also as usual, ignored us completely. I looked around at the other passengers as we walked through that car, wondering which of them was Prapp, the Tra’ho government oathling the Modhri had named last night as being the third of his walkers. Both Tra’ho’seej in evidence, unfortunately, had the distinctive oathling half-shaved heads and flowing topcuts, which I’d counted on identifying him with. Neither Tra’ho gave us a significant look as we passed, either, which was the other way I might have recognized him.

Osantra Qiddicoj was similarly preoccupied with other matters as we passed him three cars later. Apparently, the Modhri was keeping to himself this morning. Maybe he was ashamed of his unwitting part in the murder attempt against me last night.

Maybe he was just sulking because it hadn’t worked.

Aronobal’s seat was in the first third-class coach. We reached her car, to find the doctor herself was nowhere to be seen. She was probably farther back in the train, in the dining car having breakfast, or possibly sneaking back to our makeshift brig for a hurried conference with Logra Emikai. That would be the most interesting possibility of all. Passing her seat, we continued on.

We were just entering Emikai’s assigned car, two back from Aronobal’s, when I began to notice a change in the atmosphere around us.

At first it was nothing I could put my finger on. The passengers seemed quieter than they’d been in either first or second, but not quiet in the sense of peace or comfort. This was the quiet of fresh tension simmering beneath the surface.

Behind Emikai’s car was the third-class dining car. Bayta and I took a quick look inside, confirmed that Aronobal wasn’t there, and kept going toward the entertainment car.

As we did so, I could feel the quiet tension continuing to grow. More and more, the passengers’ eyes turned toward us as we came into sight, and continued to follow us as we passed.

And the expressions on their faces were running the unpleasant gamut from neutral to suspicious to downright hostile.

Bayta noticed it, too. “Something’s not right here,” she murmured as we passed through the shower car.

“And whatever it is, we seem to be getting the blame for it,” I murmured back. “Is anything happening with Emikai?”

“The twitters say he hasn’t had any visitors since you left, and that he’s still secured,” she said. “The conductors aren’t reporting anything odd with the rest of the train, either.”

“So it apparently is just us,” I concluded.

“Do you think we should turn back?”

It was a tempting idea. But we had a job to do, and somehow I doubted the passengers were going to get any less hostile as the day wore on. “Let’s at least go as far as the entertainment car,” I said. “If we haven’t located Aronobal by then, we’ll backtrack and wait for her at her seat.”

Actually, I wasn’t expecting we’d have to go that far back. Just behind the shower car was Terese German’s car, and if Emikai, Aronobal, and Terese were in cahoots, there was a fair chance we’d find the latter two members of the troika in urgent consultation together.

For once, I was right. As we exited the vestibule into the car, I saw a small group of passengers gathered around Terese’s row, their heads hunched forward the way people do when having intense, semi-private conversations. Two of the group were Halkas, one was a Juri, and the fourth was Dr. Aronobal.

“There she is,” Bayta said.

“I see her,” I said, the back of my neck starting to tingle. The conversationalists had turned to face us, and their expressions weren’t even bothering with the neutral or suspicious areas of today’s third-class mood scale. All four were deeply into the hostile end of the spectrum, and every cubic centimeter of that hostility was aimed at Bayta and me. “Maybe you ought to hang back a bit while I go talk to them,” I said quietly.

Bayta reached over and got a grip on my left arm. “No,” she said in a voice that left no room for argument.

“Stay a step behind me, then,” I told her, gently disengaging her grip. “You might want to fire up the kwi, just in case.”

I started forward again, the kwi in my pocket tingling as Bayta activated it. “Good afternoon,” I said, nodding to the group as I got within polite conversational range. “Dr. Aronobal, I wonder if I might have a few minutes of your time.”

To my surprise, Terese bounded up from her seat, planting herself squarely between me and the rest of them. “What do you want her for?” she demanded, her face dark with emotion.

“I just want to ask her a few questions,” I said soothingly.

“And then, what, make her disappear, too?” Terese shot back.

I took another look at the group standing silently behind her. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“She speaks of Logra Emikai,” Aronobal said grimly. “He’s disappeared, and no one can find him.” She drew herself up. “We’ve heard reports that you were the one responsible.”

“Reports,” I said, letting my tone go flat. “You mean rumors.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought you’d say,” Terese said scornfully.

“You protest too glibly,” the Juri agreed in a precise, clipped voice. “Rumors always have a basis in fact, a touchpoint with reality. The reality here is that Logra Emikai has indeed vanished.”

I really wanted to ask him how he could possibly know that, given that he and his fellow worriers were all confined back here in third class while their buddy Emikai had a pass that let him roam the entire train at will. But I kept my mouth shut. Those who didn’t already know that almost certainly wouldn’t believe it anyway. “Maybe he’s taking a long shower,” I suggested instead. “Maybe the Spiders asked him up to first or second for some kind of consultation.”

“Oh, right,” Terese bit out. “Far as I can see, the only people consulting with the Spiders are you two.”

“Let us also not forget that di-Master Strinni’s final act was to form his hands into the sign-language symbols of your initials,” Aronobal added.

I had forgotten about that, actually, and I made a mental note to hit up the Modhri later and find out what the hell he’d thought he was doing with that.

Assuming there was a later. Most of the nearby passengers were listening intently to the conversation, and their expressions reminded me of sharks at feeding time. They were scared, they were frustrated, and, worse, after nearly four weeks on the road they were bored. If there was no justice in me getting my ears pounded, there might at least be some entertainment.

I came to a sudden decision. Aronobal wasn’t going to talk now anyway, not surrounded by indignant supporters who clearly thought I was out to add her to some phantom body count. There would be plenty of other opportunities to hit her up about her relationship with Emikai before we reached Venidra Carvo. “I get the feeling you really don’t want to talk right now,” I said, taking a casual step backward. “Fine. We’ll do this later.”

“Don’t let him go!” Terese snapped. “If he gets away, we’ll never find out what he did with Logra Emikai.”

She started toward me, and to my surprise I saw she had tears in her eyes. Either she was choking with rage or she really did feel something for the supposedly vanished Emikai. “I didn’t do anything with Logra Emikai,” I insisted.

But it was too late. Behind her, one of the two Halkas—the bigger one, naturally—shouldered her aside and strode toward me, the glow of righteous indignation in his eyes.

“Move it,” I murmured to Bayta, crowding backwards against her as I dipped my hand into my pocket. Unfortunately, while the kwi gave me the power to drop the Halka where he stood, I couldn’t use it, at least not openly. Kennrick already knew I had brought a supposedly forbidden weapon aboard, and Logra Emikai probably suspected it, and the last thing I wanted was for the rest of the train to find out, too.

But if I couldn’t use the kwi openly, maybe I could use it not openly.

The Halka was still lumbering forward as I pulled my hand out of my pocket, the kwi in position around my knuckles. The second Halka had fallen into step behind the first, with Terese now third in line. “Take it easy,” I said soothingly as I keyed the kwi for its lowest unconsciousness setting. “I don’t want any trouble here. Neither do you.”

The two Halkas merely picked up their pace a little. Knowing Halkas, I’d expected that. I continued to back up, keeping my hands moving in little circles to prevent anyone from getting a clear look at the kwi. The lead Halka got to within grabbing distance and reached out a large hand toward my neck.

And I slammed my right fist into his gut.

It wasn’t all that hard a slam, actually. In fact, the punch was over ninety percent pure noise, with as little genuine impact as I could get away with while still making it sound real. There didn’t have to be any impact, because an instant before my fist hit his torso I thumbed the kwi‘s firing button.

The weapon worked with its usual gratifying speed, instantly sending the Halka off to dreamland. As his knees started to buckle beneath him I brought my left hand up and made a show of chopping him at the base of the neck. After that, my only job was to get out of his way as he collapsed with an impressive thud onto the floor.

The second Halka came to an abrupt halt. So did the various mutterings and twitterings that had been going on among the onlookers. Our entire end of the car, in fact, went deathly quiet.

And from behind me I heard Bayta give a short, strangled gasp.

I spun around, kwi ready, both hands coming up into combat position. But it was only Kennrick, his hands on Bayta’s shoulders as he moved her sideways out of his way. “What the hell are you doing back here?” he demanded, his voice taut, his eyes flicking to the line of potential attackers still facing me. “Come on—we’ve got to get out of here before you get lynched.”

I was opening my mouth to tell him that we had every intention of doing exactly that when the second Halka made his move.

Unfortunately for him, the same relative silence that had allowed me to hear Kennrick’s non-assault on Bayta also enabled me to hear him coming with his more genuine attack. I spun back around, evaded his pile-driver punch, and dropped him to the floor with a second kwi shot and some more martial-arts window dressing.

And then Kennrick’s hand was on my shoulder, pulling me backward toward the vestibule. “Come on,” he repeated urgently. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I took one last look at Terese’s stricken, disbelieving, anguished expression, and got the hell out of there.

We reached the next car and Kennrick slipped around past me, putting himself behind Bayta and me and between us and any potential follow-up trouble that Aronobal and Terese might choose to send in our direction. But no one came bursting through the vestibule in hot pursuit. The three of us retraced our steps back through third class, and again I could feel the eyes of the passengers on my back as we hurried forward. Fortunately, none of them did anything but look, and a few minutes later we made our escape from third class into second.

“Whew,” Kennrick puffed as we slowed our pace back to a normal walk. The passengers here, I noted, seemed to have no interest whatsoever in us. “That was way too close.”

“Close to what, I’m not sure,” I said, eyeing him over my shoulder. “What was all that about, anyway?”

“What, they didn’t tell you?” he asked. “There’s a rumor racing through third that you killed Logra Emikai during the night.”

“That much I gathered,” I said. “I was mostly wondering if this rumor has anything more to it. Like why I would do something like that or, better yet, how I managed to dispose of a body from a sealed Quadrail.”

“You really think anyone’s paying attention to actual logic?” Kennrick said sourly. “Especially when it’s a trusted member of the medical profession who’s telling you all this?”

“Dr. Aronobal started the rumor?” Bayta asked, frowning over her shoulder.

“Who else?” Kennrick said. “I’m just glad I got back there in time.” He grunted. “Not that you seemed to need me. That, uh, asset of yours is really something.”

“We like it,” I said. “Which isn’t to say that reinforcements aren’t always welcome. How did you happen to be there, anyway?”

“Pure luck,” he said. “Asantra Muzzfor went back to third earlier this morning to discuss the contract situation with Master Tririn. While he was there he got wind of the rumor about Emikai’s mysterious disappearance, though your name apparently wasn’t yet connected to it. He mentioned it to me when I stopped by his seat half an hour ago, along with the fact that he’d seen you heading that direction. I put two and two together and went charging back to try to stop you before walked into a hornets’ nest.”

“Why would Dr. Aronobal start such a rumor?” Bayta ask

“Obviously, to keep you two at bay while she locates Emikai and finds out what we know,” Kennrick said. “Or, failing that, to come up with another plan.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Bayta insisted.

“Of course it does,” Kennrick said. “Like I said, she needs to find Emikai—”

“Why doesn’t it make sense?” I interrupted.

“Because if Dr. Aronobal knows Logra Emikai well enough to send him to break into your compartment, she should also trust him not to tell us anything,” she said. “Especially about whether or not the two of them are working together.”

Kennrick snorted. “I think the working together part was obvious as soon as Aronobal tried to lure Compton out of his compartment so that Emikai could break in.”

“Obvious, but not provable,” Bayta insisted. “We might suspect, but we couldn’t know for sure. Given that, wouldn’t Dr. Aronobal do better to pretend she was innocent, or had been set up, and try to find out what we know?”

There was an answer for that, I knew. But I kept quiet. Bayta was doing just fine without my help, and I was curious to see how Kennrick would respond.

Not very well, as it turned out. “Look, I’m not here to defend her cleverness,” Kennrick said stiffly. “All I know is that the rumor is there, and that she’s the only one who benefits from it.”

“Or possibly Terese German,” I suggested. “They seem to have some kind of relationship going, too.”

“And the rumor also keeps you away from her,” Kennrick said with an air of vindication. “Like I said.”

“Yes, you’re probably right,” I agreed. Bayta frowned at me, and I gave her a small warning shake of my head. She grimaced, but turned back without another word. “So what are your plans for the day?” I added to Kennrick.

“First I need to find out from Asantra Muzzfor exactly what he and Master Tririn talked about,” Kennrick said. “I was about to do that when I found out you two were in danger and cut the meeting short. After that, depending on what he says, I’ll need to sit down with all three of the Filiaelians and discuss the contract status.”

“You don’t sound very hopeful,” I said.

“I’m not,” he admitted. “But I have to try.”

We reached the rearmost of the first-class cars, and as we entered I casually glanced around. Osantra Qiddicoj was seated in a corner by himself, his eyes closed, his breathing slow, his mind presumably emptied.

The Modhri was open for business.

“You go on ahead,” I told Kennrick, taking Bayta’s arm and bringing the two of us to a halt. “I want to see how Osantra Qiddicoj’s doing.”

“Yes, poor guy,” Kennrick said, peering over at Qiddicoj. “I hear those Filiaelian stomach things can drag you down for weeks. He’s looking better, though.”

“Hopefully, he’ll be recovered by the time we reach Venidra Carvo,” I said. “Thanks again for coming to our rescue.”

“Any time.” With a nod to Bayta, Kennrick continued on forward.

I could feel the taut muscles in Bayta’s arm as I steered us toward Qiddicoj’s seat. “You okay with this?” I asked her quietly.

“Would it matter if I wasn’t?”

“Sure,” I said. “I could take you back to your compartment and do it alone.”

She straightened her shoulders. “I’m all right.”

There were a pair of empty chairs nearby. I pulled them over to Qiddicoj and we sat down. “Hello, Modhri,” I said.

“Good afternoon, Compton,” the Modhri said, Qiddicoj’s eyes remaining closed. “And to you, Bayta, agent of the Spiders.”

Bayta didn’t answer.

“Let’s start with last night,” I said. “I’d like your take on just what the hell happened.”

For a long moment the Modhri was silent. “It was very strange,” he said at last. “I was …I could hear and see what I was doing, and I knew it was a lie. And yet, I could not stop myself.”

Which was, I knew, the hallmark of a good hypnotic drug. “At least you were able to slip in the clue about the hypnotic,” I commented. “So who was feeding you your lines?”

“I don’t know,” the Modhri said, a hint of frustration edging into his otherwise emotionless voice. “The voice spoke to my Eye Prapp, but spoke from behind him. I never saw who it was, neither before, during, nor after.”

“Did you recognize the voice?” I persisted. “Male, female, species—did you get anything?”

“Nothing,” he said. “But I do remember that a faint whistling sound seemed to underlie my attacker’s words.”

I looked at Bayta. I’d heard a whistling sound that evening, and so had Emikai. Now the Modhri had joined the club.

Obviously, that was significant. I just wished I knew how. “I don’t suppose you have any idea how the hypnotic got into your system. Any of your systems,” I amended. “I assume what gets into one walker affects the whole mind.”

“It does,” he confirmed. “Unfortunately, I have no idea how that was done.”

I sighed. If dead ends were money, Bayta and I could retire rich. “You really ought to try to be more alert,” I told the Modhri.

“I will,” the Modhri promised. “And may I say that I’m pleased you are still alive.”

“I’m reasonably pleased about that myself,” I said. “Okay, back to the business at hand. What can you tell me about Master Colix’s last day?”

“I’ve been pondering that question since his death,” the Modhri said. “Unfortunately, there’s little I can tell you that you don’t already know. He ate his sunrise and midday meals alone. No one approached his table during either time. Sundown was eaten with Master Bofiv and Master Tririn.”

“Master Tririn told us Dr. Witherspoon and Terese German were seated nearby at that latter meal,” I said. “Did Master Colix have a good view of them?”

“He did, and neither of them approached the table,” the Modhri confirmed. “They seemed interested only in each other.” Qiddicoj’s nostrils flared briefly. “Perhaps too interested.”

I felt my ears prick up. Terese, and Witherspoon? There was at least a forty-year age difference there. “What makes you say that?” I asked.

“He touched her in a very intimate way,” the Modhri said, and I could hear the contempt in his voice for primitive Humans who didn’t know any better than to display their affection in public.

“Where exactly did he touch her?” I asked.

A hand lifted limply from Qiddicoj’s lap. “Here,” he said, his fingertips touching his lower abdomen. “And here,” he added, moving the fingers upward a short distance.

I frowned. There wasn’t a single Human erogenous zone in either place. “Are you sure?” I asked, holding my hand a couple of centimeters above Bayta’s abdomen. “He was touching her right here?”

Qiddicoj’s eyes flicked briefly open, then closed again. “Yes,” the Modhri confirmed.

“I see,” I said, bringing my hand back. “Well, well.”

“What is it?” Bayta asked.

“At least one corner of this mess is suddenly making sense,” I said. “This dinnertime get-together wasn’t a meeting. It was a medical consultation.” I tapped my own abdomen. “Remember Terese’s stomach trouble?”

Bayta’s eyes widened a little. “Are you saying …?”

I nodded. “Our young friend Terese German is pregnant.”

Bayta shot a look at Qiddicoj. “What in the world is she doing alone on a Quadrail heading for the far end of the galaxy?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I agreed. “And it’s clear now that our Filly friends Aronobal and Emikai are definitely involved with her.”

“Why do you say that?” the Modhri asked.

“Because if they are, a few more of the pieces fall into place,” I told him. “Emikai’s concern for the air in Terese’s car, for starters—air quality would be especially important for a woman carrying a baby. And then there’s Dr. Witherspoon’s reaction after di-Master Strinni’s death, when I asked him about his rendezvous with Terese.”

“Yes,” the Modhri murmured thoughtfully. “He was very reluctant to speak of her.”

I frowned. “You remember that?”

“The polyp colony within an Eye lives for a short time after the Eye’s own death,” he explained.

“Ah,” I said, a shiver running up my back. I’d always suspected that was the case, but to have it confirmed in such a coldly clinical manner was a little disconcerting. “What you couldn’t see was that Witherspoon kept looking at Aronobal during that conversation, as if he wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to say. Physician/patient privilege is pretty much a standard of Human law these days, but other species handle it in different ways. And Witherspoon was only brought in as a consultant, after all.”

“You think Dr. Aronobal was concerned about Ms. German’s stomach trouble?” Bayta asked.

“That’s my guess,” I said. “I’m sure she knows about morning sickness, but the duration and intensity of Terese’s bouts may have thrown her enough to want a Human doctor to take a look.”

I looked back at Qiddicoj. “Speaking of death and Modhran afterlife, why did you try to finger me—no pun intended—with Strinni’s silly dying clue?”

“My apologies,” the Modhri said, a touch of embarrassment in his tone. “At the time I believed you to be the one killing off my Eyes. I wanted to raise that same suspicion in others so that they would keep watch on your future actions.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” I said. “You have no such suspicions now?”

“None,” the Modhri assured me. “To return to Master Colix’s sundown meal. His individual was birrsh, and the common was po krem, which he ate with prinn scoops.”

“Yes, Tririn’s already given me the menu,” I said. “Any chance either Bofiv or Tririn spiked any of the food?”

“None,” the Modhri said firmly. “I’ve replayed the memory of the entire meal through my mind many times since then. Neither of the others could have done so.”

I nodded. I’d already come to the same conclusion, but it was good to have it verified by a fresh source. “Let’s move on to the rest of Colix’s evening. He finished dinner and …?”

“He returned immediately to his seat,” the Modhri said. “His stomach was starting to bother him.”

I frowned. “By the time he reached his seat?”

“Even sooner,” the Modhri said. “He was feeling the first twinges before the end of the meal.”

“Really,” I said, tapping my fingertips on the arm of my borrowed chair. Heavy-metal poisoning hit Shorshians quickly, but not that quickly. “Let’s back up a bit. Did anything unusual happen that afternoon?”

“And did he have his throat lozenges with him all afternoon?” Bayta added.

I threw a sideways look at her. As distasteful as it might be for her to have to deal with the Modhri, she was obviously intrigued by the chance to access one of the murder victims’ memories. “Including during dinner,” I added, looking back at Qiddicoj.

“Mr. Kennrick visited him briefly in the early afternoon,” the Modhri said. “They discussed the halfway-celebration meal Mr. Kennrick was planning.”

I nodded. Kennrick had already told me about that. “And the lozenges?”

“They were locked in his lower storage compartment the entire time, including during the sundown meal.” The Modhri considered. “Though Mr. Kennrick did handle them later that evening, when he retrieved Master Colix’s keepsake blanket for him.”

I sat up a little straighter. That meeting Kennrick hadn’t mentioned. “What exactly happened?”

“Mr. Kennrick stopped by to say good night,” the Modhri said. “Master Colix was feeling too ill to rise, and asked Mr. Kennrick to obtain his blanket and transfer his lozenges to the upper storage compartment.”

“Were either of Master Colix’s seatmates there at the time?” I asked.

“The Juri was absent,” the Modhri said. “The Human female was already beneath her privacy shield. I believe Master Tririn was absent as well.”

Which would explain why neither Tririn, Terese, nor the Juri in the window seat had mentioned the incident. “Did he lock the upper storage compartment after he got the blanket?”

A slight frown creased Qiddicoj’s face. “I’m not certain. Master Colix watched as he pulled out the blanket, placed the bag of lozenges in its place, then flipped the blanket open and draped it across Master Colix’s torso. Master Colix was looking at the blanket, adjusting its position, when Mr. Kennrick returned Master Colix’s ticket.”

“Where did Master Colix put the ticket?” I asked.

“In his tunic’s inside top pocket.”

Which was where Bayta and I had found it when we’d later examined the body. “Did anyone else go pocket-diving in his tunic between then and the time he was brought to the dispensary?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” the Modhri said, sounding frustrated. “Master Colix was so focused on his internal condition that he wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings.”

“And you weren’t either?”

“I have only my Eye’s senses to work with,” the Modhri reminded me. “If those senses are impaired, I’m as helpless as the Eye itself.”

“Let’s try a different angle,” I suggested. “Did Master Colix always keep the ticket in that pocket?”

“Yes.”

“Did his seatmates know that?”

“Most likely. Master Colix didn’t keep it a secret.”

“Master Tririn know it, too?”

“Again, most likely.”

I grimaced. In other words, whether Kennrick had locked the compartment or not, way too many people knew where to find the key.

“But Logra Emikai was the one we caught in the baggage car,” Bayta pointed out. “How would he have known where the ticket was?”

“Logra Emikai had Master Colix’s ticket?” the Modhri asked, sounding confused.

“Possibly,” I said. “We ran into him poking around the bodies a couple of days after the first deaths. He may have been returning the ticket, or he may have been up to something else he didn’t want to get caught at. No chance you were still hanging around the morgue, I suppose?”

Qiddicoj shook his head. “Both Master Colix’s and di-Master Strinni’s colonies were dead soon after their bodies were taken there,” the Modhri said. “Yet you told me Logra Emikai was not connected to the murders.”

“I said that was my gut feeling,” I corrected. “But that was largely based on the fact that I didn’t have a motive for him, barring some deep, dark connection with either the victims or Pellorian Medical that we didn’t know about. Now that we know there’s at least a tenuous connection between him and Witherspoon via Terese, I may have to put him back on the list.”

“At least as an accomplice,” Bayta murmured. “He couldn’t have created last night’s situation by himself.”

“Agreed,” I said. “All that having been said, he still doesn’t feel right for the job.”

“I had hoped for more from you than mere intuition,” the Modhri said with a hint of disapproval.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get more,” I said, standing up. “Thank you for your assistance. We’ll be in touch.”

Qiddicoj nodded. “If I can be of further assistance, merely ask.”

“I will,” I said. “One other thing. One of your walkers shares a car with the three Fillies on the contract team. Have you seen any of them disappear for long periods, or head back toward third class?”

“No,” the Modhri said without hesitation. “They leave for meals and hygienic needs, but that’s all. All other time is spent sleeping, reading, or playing games together.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Good afternoon, Modhri.”

“Good afternoon, Compton.” Qiddicoj took an extra-deep breath, and the skin of his face tightened subtly as the Modhri disappeared back under his rock.

Bayta and I returned our borrowed chairs to their original places, then headed forward toward our compartments. “There, now,” I said as we passed through the vestibule into the next car. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“He’s a monster,” Bayta said shortly.

“That he is,” I agreed. “But sometimes in investigative work you have to deal with one monster in order to bring down another.”

She was silent another half coach length. “Did we at least learn anything useful?” she asked at last.

“Oh, yes,” I said softly. “For starters, we learned that Kennrick lied to us. Let’s go find out why.”