Chrono Inquisitor (Gods Be Damned) (23 page)

‹“What do you think you’re doing?”› Ranger-son asked.

“That was a private conversation,” she said at the same time.

‹“I’m getting to the bottom of things,”› I told Ranger-son.

“If it was supposed to be private, why wasn’t it conducted through a link?” I asked her.

‹“You’re being an asshole. She just lost her husband,”› Ranger-son informed me.

‹“Yes, and she is refusing to help us find the person responsible for his death. Makes we wonder if she had a hand in it,”› I said to him. Mrs. Beit had yet to respond.

“How old are you?” she finally said.

“How old do you think I am?” I asked.

“Obviously not old enough to realize that once upon a time, humans could have a private vocalized conversation without it being considered open to the public.”

“Actually, ma’am, I’m older than you are. It seems you’ve forgotten that if you want a conversation to be truly private, you don’t have it where anyone nearby can overhear it.”

She remained silent for a second and then said, “Inquisitors aren’t normally stationed at the resort. What are you doing here?”

“I’m investigating your husband’s murder,” I said, and leaned back a little.

“That may be the case now, but you just admitted you were here nosing around before that, so again I’ll ask, what are you doing here?”

“It’s a resort. I came here on vacation,” I said.

“You’re lying. I recognize you now. You were a waiter at dinner. You aren’t here on vacation. You were undercover.”

That was the problem when practically everyone had a CerA equipped with facial recognition. It made it harder to conduct an investigation in secret if you’d ever been to a place before under a different identity.

“You’re right,” I said, deciding to come clean in hopes it would help rather than hinder. Besides, it was fairly obvious to anyone who thought about it for half a second.

“I’m shocked,” she said in response. “Who knew Inquisitors could be honest.”

“Funny.”

“Mrs. Beit,” Ranger-son said, taking back control of the conversation. “Let’s say you’re right and that your husband was having an affair, would this be cause for someone to want him dead?”

“Are you asking if it’d be cause for
me
to want him dead?”

He held up his hands. “Look, ma’am, we’re just here to help. We need to know if your husband’s murder was a random incident of misfortune, or if this is a piece of something more. We need to know if others are in danger. When people kill it’s generally for one of three reasons. It’s either an accident, a crime of passion, or
it’s pre-meditated. With each one the likelihood of them killing again increases. Especially if they get a way with it. If you have information that would help, it’d go a long way. I’ll be honest with you, Mrs. Beit, you are a suspect, and so far your uncooperativeness is making you look more and more guilty.”

“Then arrest me,” she said. She even stood and held out her hands.

“Mrs. Beit-”

Cutting Ranger-son off, I asked, “Are you or your husband associated with the terrorist organization known as Eternal Equality for Everyone?”

“Excuse me?” she said, taken aback.

‹“What the hell?”› Ranger-son said.

“Is it possible your husband was murdered because he’s a terrorist?”

Several expressions shot across her face. They were so rapid fire it was hard for me to get an idea of what they meant. I couldn’t tell if she
was shocked because of my question, or if it was because the question hit home.

She started to say something, stopped, thought something through, then said, “That is the most ridiculous thing I think I’ve ever heard. There’s no reason what-so-ever for him to do something so stupid. And just because my husband feels sorry for people who can’t pay their premiums, and created a relief fund for them, that doesn’t mean he supports those terrorists calling themselves E3.”

“I agree,” I said. And I really did. However. “But isn’t it possible someone could think that based on the point you just made?”

“Is that why you’re at the Regency?” she asked. I saw the lights come on. Grow brighter. Saw the signs of deductive reasoning acting as a fuel source. “It is, isn’t it? That’s why you were acting like a waiter. Why you were close enough to eavesdrop on our conversation. Why were you in our apartment?” The last light bulb lit. “You were investigating my husband.”

“Mrs. Beit, I understand you’re a lawyer. I also understand you used to work for ChronoGen on their legal team. As such, I’m sure you’re aware that if I were investigating your husband, I wouldn’t be able to discuss it, especially not with you.”

I saw she understood that I’d just told her she was right without actually doing so. I’d tossed her some scraps, and now it was time for her to give me some.

“Mrs. Beit.” I said, starting again.

“Let’s stop right there. If we’re going to continue talking, you’re both going to start calling me Nora, not Mrs. Beit. The last thing I need right now is to be constantly reminded that my husband is dead.” There was anger in her voice. Almost no detectable sadness.

Interesting.

‹“Kali, what’s your analysis of Mrs. Beit’s behavior?”›

‹Because the investigation is still ongoing, and it’s a possibility Mrs. Beit is either covering up for her husband, or is a member of E3 herself, I have been monitoring her heart rate, perspiration, respiration, and other bodily functions.›

‹“And?”›

‹Inconclusive.›

‹“What do you mean?”›

‹Mrs. Beit has just lost her husband. People experience death and react to it in a multitude of ways. At the moment my analysis is inconclusive.›

‹“Hello?”› Ranger-son interrupted.

“Huh?”

They were both looking at me.

Mrs. Beit/Nora, spoke. “I want to know who accused my husband. I want their name so I can sue their ass for slander.”

I smiled. “Let’s say that someone did accuse your husband, I’ve already stated, I can’t divulge that information.”

“It’s interesting,” Ranger-son said, “You’re concerned about your husband’s reputation in regards to being a terrorist, and yet you’re accusing him of having an affair.”

Nora shot him an interesting look. It was brief and subtle, but unmistakable. They definitely knew each other. A clearer picture of the situation started to reveal itself. She’d seen him in the gardens. That’s why he wasn’t bearing down on her.

“My husband’s reputation, is my reputation, as well as that of our company. Not only is my husband’s death a significant blow, but can you imagine what would happen if it got out that it was possible my husband was a member of E3? I’d be finished. My career would be over, and I still have my best work ahead of me. And just because I’m accusing my husband of having an affair to you, doesn’t mean that I would allow that information to go public, do you understand me?”

It was logical. No one really cared about affairs anymore. But people did care about terrorism, revolutionaries, and E3.

“Let me reassure you Mrs. Beit,” I said. I had the instinct to reach out and place my hand on hers, but since we weren’t that close, and she seemed too hostile towards me, I didn’t. Instead I kept talking. “If you’re concerned about anything you say to us as part of this investigation being released publicly, don’t be. Everything will remain confidential and sealed. I assure you, I know full well what simple allegations might do to both you and your company. We have absolutely no intention of allowing the public to learn about them. Inquisitors pride ourselves on discretion.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s why Cassius has been all over the news.”

I felt my jaw tighten. Oops. “There were extenuating circumstances with that case. It was high profile and an example needed to be made.”

“Are you saying that my husband wasn’t as important as that wretch of a man?”

For a second I was afraid she was going to briskly extend her leg and catch me in my crotch for implying as such.

Lucky me, she didn’t.

I held up my hands. “Please accept my apologies for unintentionally implying that. We all know how important your husband was. I understand he was the visionary behind this very resort. He was also the headliner for this conference. In a very true sense, he’s the reason we’re all here.” Now it was my time to mull over what I was going to say.

Kali even piped in with some advice warning me not to say what I was thinking.

I ignored her as I often do.

“I’ll be honest with you, Nora.” It’s always good to be personable. “It is my belief that any
allegations
made against your husband are false and were made for ulterior motives.”

Sometimes honesty begets honesty.

“No shit they were made for ulterior motives. It’s all an elaborate scheme to ruin my company.”

“That’s an interesting turning of words you just used Mrs. Beit,” Ranger-son said. “You just said
your
company. Your husband’s only been dead for a couple of hours.”

What? Maybe I was wrong about them. Why would Ranger-son suddenly act against her?

She looked directly at him. “Don’t go getting any ideas. I’ve always called it
my
company. Ask anyone. And if you’d done a proper job of preliminary investigating, you’d know that it really
is
my company, and always has been. My husband and I may have been partners in many senses, but if you look closely at the books, you’ll realize that I founded the company and have always maintained majority share.”

“Can you think of anyone who would want your husband dead?” I asked for the too-
manyith time.

“I can think of several people. It’s only natural that being the best at what you do would cause people to dislike you. And my husband, being the man that he was, it’s only obvious that a few radical individuals might want him dead.”

Ranger-son spoke before I could reply. “What sort of man was your husband that would cause people to want him dead, and for at least one person to follow through with that desire? Because there’s a pretty big difference between disliking your competition and wanting them dead. Take my temporary partner for example.” He said it with a grin directed at me. He even went so far as to add, “I dislike him severely, but that’s a far cry from me actually wanting his demise.”

“Maybe I am being a little over dramatic, but on the other hand, my husband was murdered. Then again, maybe it’s justified.”

“So, do you have a name of a potential murderer, or is there a long list?” I asked. “Should we call for more assistance?” I added. It would be a list. I’d caught onto their game. They were working together. They were linked and steering the entire investigation. So then the question became, where was the ride taking us?

“One or two names come to mind,” she said.

“Care to share, unless of course you don’t care who murdered your husband?” I said.

Nora scowled and looked like she was going to rip my heart right out of my chest before she turned to Ranger-son and said, “I’m not
speaking to your
partner
anymore, and if you want me to speak to you, I suggest you make him leave.”

In hindsight I guess what I said was too much, but then, the whole interview was a sham. I was being played.

He signaled me to leave.

Yep, definitely being played.

‹“Don’t worry,”› he said. ‹“I’ll keep you in the loop.”›

‹“Sure,”› I said. ‹“No prob.”›

I stood, bowed to Mrs. Beit, added the obligatory “Ma’am,” and excused myself.

Rather than leaving the suite and waiting in the hall for them to finish, I went to the kitchen instead. There I found Ms. Sawyer preparing some food at the stove.

She had an apron on, but it wasn’t boring like the plain white ones I saw chefs in dining establishments wearing. Hers was covered in cute little pink and purple flowers. There also seemed to be some sort of writing on the front, but I couldn’t read it because of the way she was turned away from me.

“Don’t you have someone to do that for you?” I asked, catching her by surprise.

She turned and looked at me over her shoulder with a warm smile. “Hi there. I didn’t hear you come in. And no, I don’t. I prefer to do it myself.”

“But it takes up so much time.
Isn’t there other things you’d rather be doing?”

“I rather enjoy cooking. There’s nothing more magical than mixing a bunch of ingredients together and producing something delectable.”

“Never thought of it that way. So what are you making?”

“Take a seat,” she said, and waved her hand behind her. “I don’t like people hovering over me when I’m working my magic in the kitchen.”

There was a kitchen island and on the opposite side a set of stools. I took one. “Whatever it is, it sure smells great.”

“Why aren’t you with your partner and Nora?” she asked.

“To be honest, this isn’t really my sort of thing.”

She turned her head and looked at me. “What do you mean? What’s not your thing?” She returned her focus back to the stove.