Araminta Station (76 page)

“I will be there at once.”

Bodwyn Wook arrived, and Glawen took him to the viewing room. “Something Floreste said gave me an idea. I went to look - well, you shall see for yourself.”

The two went into the viewing room. Two hours later they emerged, Glawen wan and silent, Bodwyn Wook grim and taut to the strain of his own emotions.

Out in Wansey Way they found that evening had come to Araminta Station. Bodwyn Wook halted, and for a moment stood pondering. “I would like to clear this matter up now, at this very instant - but the time is late, and tomorrow will do as well.

Tomorrow at noon it shall be. I will issue the necessary instructions after we take our supper.”

The two dined alone in Bodwyn Wook’s chambers. Glawen told of his interview with Floreste. “I left him, as usual, with my head spinning. I asked him in regard to Simonetta’s other name, thinking of Madame Zigonie on Rosalia. Floreste was extremely perturbed: who would dare tell me such secret information. He must know her by another name. Who could it be, that would cause him such excitement?

“Then again: he will write what he knows about my father, but I may not read the material until after he is dead. I tried to learn his reasons; he would not tell me. I am confused! Where is the difference?”

“It is not all that confusing,” said Bodwyn Wook. “There is the notable difference of an entire day, during which much can happen.”

“That must be the reason,” said Glawen. “I am ashamed to be so dense. And since a day makes no difference to Floreste, the time must be important to someone else. Who?”

“We will watch events with great care and be ready for anything.”

Chapter IX, Part 6

Halfway through the following morning Glawen went to the jail, to find Floreste closeted with Dame Skellane Laverty. Neither seemed pleased when he entered the cell.

Floreste waved toward the door. “As you see I am conferring with Dame Skellane.”

Glawen asked: “What of the information you were to prepare for me?”

“It is not ready. Come back later!”

“There is not much ‘later’ left. Time is getting short.”

“I need no reminders! I think often of this fact.”

Glawen addressed Dame Skellane. “Please don’t distract him. If he doesn’t do his work you will see none of his money. I will cruise the Reach in my space yacht, and you will whistle for the new Orpheum.”

“Truly, that is crass language!” cried Dame Skellane in a passion. “I am shocked!” She turned to Floreste. “It seems that we must abbreviate our little chat, which I had hoped might comfort you.”

“My fate is upon me, dear lady! I must obey this saturnine young Clattuc, and reveal all my secrets. Glawen, come back later! I am not yet ready for you. Dame Skellane, you must excuse me.”

Dame Skellane turned angrily upon Glawen. “You should not hector poor Floreste during the last hours of his life! You should soothe and console him.”

“In Floreste’s case the only remedy is time,” said Glawen. “In thirty years his crimes will be forgotten and everyone will think him a saintly old martyr. What a fine joke! He would cut your throat on this instant if he thought he could gain his liberty or save himself a hundred sols.”

Dame Skellane turned to Floreste. “How can you tolerate this abuse so placidly?”

“Because, my dear, it is true. The first and most noble function of life is art! My own art, in particular. I am a mighty vehicle which careens across the cosmos bearing a precious if frangible cargo. Should anything impede my progress, or my existence, or my convenience, or my account at the Bank of Mircea, it must yield or be overridden by my trundling wheels!
‘Ars gratia artis’
: that was a favorite dictum of the poet Navarth. And there you have it!”

“Oh, Floreste, I will never believe such things.”

Glawen went to the door. “Come, Dame Skellane, we must go.”

Dame Skellane had a final word for Floreste: “At least I have restored you to your normal high spirits!”

“Quite so, dear lady! Thanks to you, I will die happy.”

Chapter IX, Part 7

At noon Bodwyn Wook entered his office. Looking neither right nor left, he marched to his black tall-backed chair and seated himself. Finally he allowed himself to survey the occupants of the room. “Is everyone present? I see Kirdy, Drusilla and Arles. I see Glawen, Ysel Laverty, Rune Offaw, and yonder sits Lieutenant Larke Diffin of the Militia. Who is missing? Namour? Rune, where is Namour?”

“Namour has been somewhat fractious,” said Rune Offaw. “He declares himself too busy to attend the meeting. I sent a pair of sergeants in full uniform to bring him here, and if I am not mistaken, I hear them now.”

The door opened and Namour came into the chamber.

“Ah, Namour!” said Bodwyn Wook. “I am pleased that you are able to appear after all! It is just possible that we will need you to confirm or elaborate upon some element of our inquiry.”

“Into what are you inquiring?” demanded Namour, with no show of cordiality. “In all probability I know nothing of the matter, in which case I would wish to excuse myself, since today I am pressed for time.”

“Come, come, Namour! You are too modest! It is widely believed that you know everything!”

“Not so! I am interested only in my own concerns.”

Bodwyn Wook gave his hand a casual flourish. “Today they must be subordinated to the work of Bureau B, which, as an organ of the Charter, naturally commands the full cooperation of everyone.”

Namour smiled a cool sardonic smile. “I have been brought willy-nilly to your inquiry; please do not expect me to kowtow as well. As soon as my help is no longer necessary, I hope that you will allow me to leave.”

“Of course!” said Bodwyn Wook heartily. He reflected a moment, then signaled to Rune Offaw and Ysel Laverty. They came forward and the three conferred a few moments in soft voices. Then the “Boar” and the “Stoat” returned to their places.

Bodwyn Wook cleared his throat. “Today we revert to a most unpleasant subject which many of us have relegated to the back of our minds. We do so only for good reasons, which will satisfy even Namour when he hears them. I refer to the atrocious murder of Sessily Veder, at the Parilia of several years ago.

“The files have never been closed, but only the persistence of Captain Glawen Clattuc has allowed us to resolve the case. Glawen, I will ask you to present the findings, since you are more familiar with the details than I.”

“Just as you like. I will try not to be discursive. To start with, we had the clues discovered during the original investigation: mainly fibers found in the winery truck. They might have come from either Namour’s satyr legs or two ‘primordial’ costumes in the Mummers’ wardrobe. All the Bold Lion costumes were cut from different stuff.

“Namour was able to account for his movements during the critical time. Arles and Kirdy were supposed to be marching patrol at the Yip compound. Their signatures and countersignatures seemed to exculpate them both.

“However! Ysel Laverty discovered in the photographic record a figure sitting in the Old Arbor. It turned out to be Arles, wearing a primordial costume. It seemed certain that we had discovered the murderer. Arles admitted falsifying the record. Kirdy admitted that he had tolerated the falsification, on the grounds that he and Arles were both Bold Lions and so could do no wrong. Arles admitted going to the Mummers’ wardrobe, which is in a warehouse close by the compound. He dressed in his primordial costume, then hurried to the Old Arbor to keep his appointment with Drusilla. Kirdy was left to walk the patrol alone.

“Drusilla corroborated Arles’ statement, more or less, though without any firm conviction; in fact, she was drunk. Still, they apparently watched the Phantasmagoria together, and it seems unlikely that Arles would have rushed from Drusilla’s fascinating company to perform a set of outrages upon Sessily. “As I checked the photographic record again, I saw Namour in his satyr costume stop outside the arbor, look in through one of the arches and talk a few moments with someone sitting just inside. Namour, do you remember this episode?”

“No. I can’t say that I do. It’s a long time ago, and I had been drinking wine.”

“I remember very well,” said Arles with feeling. “He laughed at my headpiece, which was not proper Bold Lion equipment. He told me I looked like a toad in a fright wig. I explained that it was the best I could do at the moment, but he wouldn’t listen; he was too busy cajoling Drusilla.”

Namour chuckled. “True. It all comes back to me. I remember well; it went just as Arles describes it.”

“The time of this episode is shortly after the Phantasmagoria. Arles, like Namour, is removed from the list of suspects. “So: what do we have? Bold Lions are here and there. Kirdy bravely marches his solitary patrol along the fence. Namour, after leaving the arbor, dances the pavane with Spanchetta. Arles sits sulking in the Old Arbor. And there the situation has rested for years, while sweet innocent Sessily drifts away into memory.

“But in two minds, at least, the recollection stays fresh. The murderer thinks of her often - and so do I. For two months I sat in Zab Zonk’s tomb, and I thought of many things. One special idea seemed interesting and surprising. We had searched the camera record carefully. When we found Arles we looked no further. At the time it seemed enough.

“That was the first crack in the case, because - to make a long story short - I looked further ahead in time. I discovered another skulking shape, and this one is the guilty skulking shape, beyond all doubt. He comes hurrying from behind the Orpheum a few minutes before midnight, and goes off half running down Wansey Way. He must be back on patrol before the next shift arrives.

“Floreste also jogged my memory, while he reminisced about the Mummers. He mentioned that Kirdy yearned greatly for Sessily, but in vain. Sessily would have nothing to do with either him or Arles. What of the patrol? Another idea clicked into place. Kirdy once told me that he never obeyed orders which he thought foolish or useless. Kirdy had a grandiose vision of himself: he was unique, and set apart from ordinary rules and regulations. The order to patrol outside the Yip compound in Kirdy’s mind was pointless and foolish. As soon as Arles left, Kirdy decided to go too. He followed Arles to the Mummers’ wardrobe, dressed in the other primordial costume, and now he was free! He could do as he liked, unhampered by inhibition. And most of all he wanted to impinge himself upon Sessily - to acquaint her with his mighty lust and to punish her severely for what she had done!

“This seemed a good idea and he acted upon it. It was the most glorious moment of his life.”

Glawen paused. Everyone looked askance at Kirdy, who sat like a stone.

Namour said abruptly: “All very well, and it’s none of my affair, but where is your evidence?”

“He appears in the camera record,” said Glawen. “He is in a hurry to get back to the patrol and he is careless. So there we see him lumbering down Wansey Way in his primordial costume, and there is no mistaking him.”

“It is all a lie,” said Kirdy. “Every word is false.”

“You admit nothing, then?” asked Bodwyn Wook.

“I cannot admit to a lie.”

“And you performed the full stint of your patrol?”

“Certainly. Glawen has always been jealous of me, because I am who I am - a Wook of pedigree - while he is a born mongrel.”

Bodwyn Wook spoke without intonation: “Larke Diffin, step forward if you please.”

Namour spoke in a long suffering voice: “If you are finished with me, I will now excuse myself.”

Bodwyn Wook looked at Glawen: “Have you any further questions to put to Namour?”

“At this particular moment, no.”

“You may go.”

Without a word Namour departed the chamber. Ysel Laverty waited a brief period, then followed. Meanwhile Larke Diffin had come from the corner of the room where he had been sitting: a blond young man of good address, tall and a few comfortable pounds overweight, with bristling mustaches and an air of confident affability.

Bodwyn Wook spoke to the chamber at large: “Everyone here, surely, is acquainted with Larke Diffin, who is a lieutenant of the militia. Larke came on duty at the Yip compound immediately after the shift which should have been kept by Kirdy and Arles. Lieutenant, repeat what you have already told me.”

Larke Diffin pulled at his mustache and cast a troubled gaze toward Kirdy. “I will report facts because they are as they are, and my telling will not alter them. On the occasion in question, the last night of Parilia, I came on duty ten minutes early, to make sure that I would not be late. I found neither Kirdy nor Arles at the patrol station; however, to my surprise, I found that all the patrols had been signed and countersigned, which of course is strictly against regulations. The signatures certify that the patrols have been performed and clearly the last patrol had not yet been completed.

“A few minutes later Kirdy appeared, out of breath and seriously out of uniform; in fact he wore what I now know to be a primordial costume. He was taken aback to find me early, and embarrassed by my evident disapproval. He said that he had just stepped over to the Mummers’ wardrobe for the costume, in order to save time. Arles, he said, had done the same.

“I found it impossible to be harsh during those last few hours of Parilia. I pointed out, as sternly as I could, that both he and Arles had falsified patrol certifications, which was most irregular. I remarked that I should properly report the occurrence, but since all was peaceful and no harm had been done, I would overlook the offense. That is where the matter stood, and I never thought of it again until Glawen questioned me. As I think back, Kirdy came in not from the direction of the warehouse, but from Wansey Way.”

Glawen looked at Kirdy. “Well, what of that, Kirdy? More lies?”

“I will say no more. I must go my way alone. It has always been me against the world.”

Bodwyn Wook said abruptly: “That is all for today. This is not a formal hearing and you have not been arraigned. Still, do not attempt to leave the station. I will consult my associates and we will decide upon our procedures. I suggest that you find counsel to help you represent yourself.”