Tremble in the Dark: A Gwen Farris Novel (16 page)

He
flipped his palms up and grimaced. "County? I was on the same
train
each time. I've been rousted and questioned by no less than three different
legal organizations already. The north line is my route however, and I spend
half my time riding it, so it isn't that strange, I don't think. Perhaps that I
was there for all of them, but I assure you, I didn't harm those women."
He seemed troubled, but went on. "I wasn't even on the same portion of the
train car at the time. Those murders all took place at the back of the trains,
in the last sleeping compartment each time. I like to be near the front, so
that I can meet people as they pass. Sales is a people friendly occupation, so
meeting new customers has to be done at every possible point."

That
made sense, but was also very suspicious. He was either the murderer, or had
seen whoever had done it. The problem there is that he might not know he had.
Gwen could have insisted on beating the man while Bethany read his mind, or
even just having her do that while questions were asked, but she was really too
tired to do a good job of it at the moment. Instead she just took note.

"I
see. Well, we can clear you, later, if you have an interest in that?" She
regarded the man coolly, but he smiled.

It
was professional however, not happy. Gwen wanted to cheer, since she knew she
was actually right about that.

"I
would like nothing better. In fact, we can do that right now, if you
wish?"

Bethany
was smart, and realized why things were being put off, so handled that part for
her.

"Not
at this exact moment. We have several days to get to it, and my colleague and I
wish to do the preliminary questioning first. We need to wait for the young man
to come back with his new friend."

That
got the older man to clear his throat.

"I
rather noticed that. She was talking to both of you, and then walked right up
to him and asked if he, um, yes, rather, I suspect you heard that?"

Gwen
didn't bother lying, not having another plan.

"I
paid her to do it, to check her story of being a whore. We need to check her
friend too. I suppose you're married though?"

The
man shook his head, but looked disapproving. "I'm not, but... I rather
don't think that I fancy her sort."

"Oh?
Do you mean you don't fancy prostitutes, or you would prefer a man?" She
didn't know why she said that, but the fellow only glared at her for a bit, and
then sighed.

"The
latter. I'd prefer that not get around however? Business reasons."

Bethany
assured him that they'd keep it to themselves. Gwen made a note of it however,
since it might prove relevant later. Anything might. Really, she was very
surprised the man had admitted to it at all. Most men here wouldn't have, even
if they spent half their time doing what Sally was probably doing at that very
moment in one of the sleeping cabins.

Then,
to be complete, she questioned Martin, still sitting right there. He was on the
train, going to exactly the wrong area, after all.

He
said he didn't know anything in particular that hadn't been in the press. That
made some sense to her, but Beth seemed baffled.

"It's
an odd place to go for a visit, isn't it? An area that's suddenly having
problems with murders and magic failing?"

The
bigot flipped a single palm.

"Not
at all. The murders are
clearly
being done by some rather powerful magic
types. Those are the only ones that do that kind of thing. Low magic people
aren't perfect, but they don't sacrifice anyone. I'm hoping to capitalize on
that fact. The magic going out, well, it's interesting, but I'd only heard
rumors. Trains stopping and lights not going on? Is it connected to the murders
do you think?"

Gwen
nearly growled at the man, because he was trying to act like he wasn't a
suspect.

"Where
were you for the other murders, Cordell?" She was nearly ready to hit him,
but he just listed off engagements that he'd had, some of which had been
covered in the press. Bethany remembered two of them herself. It didn't mean he
was truly free and clear, but he also wasn't wrong about the sort of murders
that they seemed to be looking at.

It
smacked of power generation and ceremony, rather than psycho-sexual mental
illness. Not that she had enough information to rule that out. No one had
gotten pictures of the crime scene and they hadn't been provided with any notes
at all. Most Detective work here was done by finding someone that seemed guilty
enough, and then beating a confession out of them. If you got the right person
it was pretty efficient, but if you got the wrong one, then it muddled things.
Almost everyone confessed after all.

Oddly
enough, it seemed like no one believed that an innocent person ever would, even
at the cost of great pain or their own life. Gwen was willing to bet that the
people in prison were a lot less likely to think that was true than the average
man or woman on the street.

The
idea of taking good notes wasn't unheard of, but having a photographer come in
was only used in a few places. Forensics were pretty much an unknown too. There
was a new process being tested for that, but it would take twenty to forty
years to really get a foothold, she'd been assured by people in the know. A lot
of them, actually. So for now it was all about her and Beth riding the rails
and questioning people.

This
part of things might not even be needed, since once they were actually in the
right area, they could just have Beth open up and try to pick up any thoughts
of murder and catch whoever was doing it, if they tried again. It might take
some months of doing it that way for it to pay off, but Gwen figured it would.
The ceremony would need some pretty specific things to make happen, and
probably more than three girls. How many they didn't know, not having a clue
what the end goal was.

If
it was some moron trying to open up the voidic plane to get the Elder Gods out
again, then it would take a
lot
more than a few dead girls to manage. If
however it was something else, a person using the deaths to collect personal
power? Or gain wealth? Those things might well not need too much more than a
few casualties to make happen.

At
least if she were right and not just making up stories to try and get things to
work in her head. She was probably doing that though. After all, she only knew
a little about that kind of magic, and even those that knew that sort of thing
could be at a loss, if they didn't have the specifics. It was kind of the
reason that most of those kinds of things were solved by other means. Normally
beating people until they found ones that had the right kind of garb in old
chests in their attics or whatever it was that meant they probably had the
right people.

You
just kept doing it until things stopped happening, she guessed.

After
a while Sally and her University friend came back. It hadn't taken that long,
but the boy was a little mussed looking and the lipstick that Sally had been
wearing was gone. It was a good sign. Not a perfect one, but short of watching
herself, what was she supposed to do to test what she'd been told? The two
moved back to their old seats, and Gwen moved to intercept the kid, who wasn't
that much younger than her body was, she was sure.

Calling
him a kid was probably a bit rich then, wasn't it? Well, she felt old, inside,
so that had to count.

"Hello.
I take it that things went well with that?" Her head tilted toward the
whore that she'd paid. The man blushed a brilliant scarlet.

"I...
don't know what you mean."

Beth
waited for Martin to take his seat, still playing male guardian, suspect or
not. As soon as he was in place, she leaned in, conspiratorially.

"Miss
Farris paid Sally to use her mouth on you. It was a test of her professional
claims. Did she deliver the service?" This was all whispered, as if it
were shameful and illegal. Since it probably was, that made sense. There was
just no way these people, the ones in the Western Kingdom, would let that kind
of thing just go unchecked.

It
just wasn't the Special Service's job to find or harass women for such things.
Just like outing gay people wasn't their business. Not unless it was important
to their other work. Then again, Beth was technically not there in that capacity,
they were just using the uniforms for the time being, to make their own lives
easier.

The
poor boy in front of them rather choked then, making a gasping sound.

"I...
yes?"

Gwen
wrote that down, and then asked him for his name.

"Carter,
Miss. Carter Palmer." There was a subdued quality to it as if he were
really still embarrassed about the whole thing from earlier. Gwen didn't see
why. Oh, well, he might have just been embarrassed that they knew, or that
she'd paid for him to have that done. Or it could be something else all
together. She would have been embarrassed if it had been her in the same
position, but she was kind of a
prude
, personally.

Not
the kind that didn't admit that sex ever happened for regular people, but the
kind that just figured it probably wouldn't for her. That was wrong now
however, and she knew it. She just didn't know what to
do
about it. Get
married, probably, and let the rest work itself out?

"Age?"
She tried to make herself sound chipper, and like it was all a philosophical
question.

"I,
er, twenty-six."

Gwen
had figured him for being a lot younger than that, years even.

"Are
you a graduate student then? Radiatives?" She stared directly into his
eyes and he looked away, then back as if trying not to seem like he'd done
anything wrong.

"Yes.
I work with Doctor Professor Grainger. We've met actually, about four months
ago? Just in passing. The Doctor asked me to look into several of your ideas
for new devices. I've been coordinating with other students on the topic."

That
was a thing that she'd known about, after a fashion, but had to look at Carter
again to understand why he looked so familiar. He'd been in her hallucination.
The one that had made a small light device that she'd suggested he turn into
either a clip-light or a flashlight. They didn't really have those here yet,
for some reason, even though their technology basically meant it was part of
the natural progression.

"Great.
We can go over that stuff later. Were you one of the people working on the
shower head?" One had simply shown up in her shower one day, weeks before.
It was a godsend, and she was about to thank the man in front of her for it, if
he'd had a hand.

Except
that he looked incredibly uneasy about the idea for some reason. Then she
remembered something else from her hallucination, which she was starting to
think had a lot more psychic precognitive function involved than she'd been
thinking. Of course it had been at the hands of one of the most powerful
non-Westmorland precognitive people in the world, and her own mind might well
have been doing that too, tying everything together.

In
that scenario the University students had pooled their money in order to set up
the manufacture of the devices for sale. It had been, as her mental image of
Doctor Grainger had said, great initiative, if not strictly
legal
. He'd
seemed to think it was funny at the time and so had she. After all, she pretty
much had money taken care of for a long time, thanks to the Vernors and her
investments. It was worth it, just to get the shower heads.

Carter
sighed, and then confessed. He eyed Beth the whole time too, clearly getting
that what he'd done was wrong.

"We,
myself and a few others," He didn't go on, looking down at his lap. Then
he flushed, probably remembering what had just happened, not too long before.
He looked over at the back of Sally's head too. Then he rushed through the
incriminating words. "We started making them for sale, but didn't solidify
the transaction with you first. I had the device sent to you for testing, but
the honest truth is that we have them for sale in several parts of the Kingdom
already. It isn't strictly
lawful
of us to do that. We have kept half
the mets made for you aside, so we aren't trying to cheat you, it was simply
that no one wanted to wait or bother you, being that you've been so busy. We
aren't trying to cheat you at all. I don't have them with me, but I can
telestat for the funds, if you wish?" There was an eagerness to that last
plea, as if almost wishing for her to simply take the money now, in order to
protect the others from prosecution? Was it that big of a deal? Apparently it
was.

The
admission had Martin looking ready to throttle the guy, and Beth glaring as if
she planned to hold him down for that very action herself, but Gwen just
flipped a single palm.

 "I
already knew all that. Reinvest my part in the other projects? Let me know
what's coming out next first though, will you? I'm especially interested in the
running shoes that..." She had to think, and realized that her imagination
might
have just produced the name and even the young lady attached to
it, out of whole cloth. "Regina Botstein? The one doing the special treads
for shoes." She said it as if she'd had a real report on everything,
probably from Doctor Grainger, and Carter looked ready to run away.