Echoes
(or The Case of the Smashed Pondu)
(continued)
When Noor's yellow-orange sun appeared over the wetlands, Mureek arose
to prepare their morning meal. Two browned seed cakes, a bowl of roasted
linges and a ripe dray fruit neatly sliced on Abane's favorite crystal
plate. A pitcher of cold, clear water scented with flower of rada. They
had just sat down to eat when the baman buzzed. Throwing Abane a mock
desperate look, Mureek got up to answer it. Directing the device towards
his partly open mouth, Mureek accepted a message from his friend, Wogan,
Chief of Guards. Wogan's emissions at his end, after being reduced to
electronic impulses that traveled over communication lines, were now
reassembled into scent language that flowed into Mureek's receiver glands.
"I hope you are squatting comfortably," began Wogan.
Mureek froze.
"There has been a murder. In the compound of Kater Lawfene. Her
second son, a Kato Geffno."
For a moment, Mureek did not respond. He gazed at Abane, who was placidly
chomping into one of the seed cakes, her large eyes half closed. "But
that is where... And that is who..." he did not finish.
"Yes, where your mate is employed. Good for the investigation
actually. The more eyes, ears and glands the better, eh?"
Mureek was not in the mood for Wogan's mild humor. "Perhaps she
ought to stay home."
"Definitely not," whiffed the Chief. "We may need her there. Now, allow me to give you the particulars."
Mureek descended into the ornate hallway of Abane's employer,
Kater Lawfene. Like their ancient amphibian-like ancestors, Noorians
enjoyed dampness and living underground. Extensive and luxurious subnoorian
establishments existed with only a simple door leading to the surface.
The home of the District Administrator of Food Distribution was an opulent
example.
Now the Administrator herself towered above him. She was
a huge female gone to seed, thought Mureek, although he was polite and
endowed her with the customary compliments on her "beauty"
and apparent good health. Then, of course, he kneeled and expressed
the expected sorrow over the death of her son.
"My gratitude," she replied, her golden eyes
hooded and inscrutable. While Mureek knew that Abane respected and even
liked her distinguished employer, he did not find her appealing.
"Please resume standing," she commanded, and
Mureek creaked back to an upright position. Must see to some fawa treatments,
he told himself; the joints are not what they used to be. (Joint problems
ran in his family. Probably a slightly drier climate would help him
there, but then the exposed parts of his skin would harden. One couldn't
win.)
"You may emit with my First Servant, Lao," emitted
Kater Lawfene, dismissing him. "I have much business to attend
to; surely you understand."
Of course he understood, but was nevertheless annoyed
by Lawfene's demeanor of superiority and command. After all, he was
the Investigator.
Kater Lawfene departed, leaving behind a smaller female
(though still larger than Mureek). This Lao stood meekly, her head bowed.
"May I serve you?" she offered.
"I suppose so," puffed Mureek.
"It occurred in the Santorium. I found His Honor,
Kato Geffno, dead in there as I began my morning rounds of watering
the moss bins. Of course, when I saw him, I just assumed that he had
passed another night in..." She hesitated.
"In what?" asked Mureek.
Lao's pale gray-green under-eye skin deepened in color. "Oh, sir,
I do not know if I am free to..."
"Of course you are free to," snapped Mureek, a irritable
little cloud of scent exploding from his mouth. "It is your duty!"
Lao adjusted, raising her head some. "Well, you see, His Honor
was a bit of a..." She hesitated. "A bit of a zin user."
"Ah," emitted Mureek. As everyone knew, a person who sucked
the zin did not usually rise early. In fact, over time, most habitual
zin users ended up not bothering to rise at all. If "His Honor"
had made it to middle age, Kater Lawfene would probably end up hiding
him in some back room while pretending he was across the sea permanently
visiting distant relatives. It occurred to Mureek that Kater Lawfene
had not appeared as distraught as she might have, but then she had been
hatched in the Pyer District, and Pyerians were not noted for emotional
expression. Their eyes would remain impassive, he supposed, in the midst
of a noorquake.
"Take me to the body then," he said.
She looked bewildered. "Oh, but Sir Detective, the body is no
longer there! They took it away only a sanno after."
"Why?" Mureek demanded, his under-eye skin coloring deeply.
"That is an extremely stupid thing to do! And usually illegal!"
The servant seemed to shrink as she curled in upon herself, embarrassed.
"Oh, Sir Detective, Sir, I told them it cannot be done, but they
insisted! There was nothing I could do! Right after Sir Chief Wogan
was here, and he was only here a very short time, Sir, right after that
they came to take the body away!"
"Who is 'they'?" emitted Mureek acidly.
"Well, Sir," she said, "it was Her Honor Kater Lawfene's
first son, Kater Moon. He is her favorite, you see, so it would be he
to handle such horrible things for her."
Mureek stood deep in thought. Finally, he said, "Take me to the
Santorium."
