The Spare Man, page 25
“Excuse me—” Tesla pushed her way past someone, using her cane to navigate over a blood-bright streak of borscht.
Down the corridor, Immanuel was nearly behind the curve of the ship. Shal was chasing, but with one arm hugging his ribs. He ran in fits and starts, bracing himself with his other hand on the wall of the corridor.
Behind Tesla, someone yelped, “Watch it!”
A moment later, Piper dashed past, leaning into a run with hands knifing through the air. She dodged past Shal, who staggered to a stop. With the curve of the ship, it looked as if Piper ran uphill without slowing and tackled Immanuel. The two went down in a tangle, rolling across the floor.
Piper rolled on top of Immanuel, pinning him. She pulled Immanuel’s wrists behind him and slapped cuffs around them. “What the hell were you thinking?”
The young server lay on the floor, not fighting, and his sobs echoed down the corridor. Piper got off of him, and propped him into a sitting position. It looked like she was moving a sack of potatoes for all the response Immanuel gave.
“Where did you think you were going to run?” She stayed crouching and scowled at him. “Huh? I’m wanting to be sympathetic here, but you’re making it hard.”
“I told her I couldn’t talk to her.” Immanuel gestured to Shal and Tesla with his chin. His voice broke and he stared at the floor again, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I didn’t know you were—please. Please help me.”
Piper spared a glare for Tesla. “So you tell your shift supervisor that you have a problem customer and let them handle it. You don’t run. You’ve got to know better than that.”
Immanuel’s face folded, crumpling around more tears. “I was scared.”
“Of what?” Piper fished in her pocket and pulled out a packet of tissues. She leaned forward and wiped his cheeks. “Come on, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
“We just want to—” Tesla stopped as Piper used a scowl worthy of Fantine.
“What part of ‘go to your cabin and don’t investigate’ was unclear?”
“Lousy connection.” Shal sauntered closer. “But since we’re here, mind if I…?”
“Yes, actually.” Piper turned her attention back to Immanuel, ignoring Shal and Tesla as they inched closer. But she didn’t tell them to leave. “All right … Tell me about the night that George Saikawa was murdered.”
With a gasp, Immanuel’s head came up. “No—no, I didn’t have anything to do with the murder.”
“Running doesn’t look good.” Piper reached for her comm badge and paused. “You want to tell me how things went down before Wisor gets here? I can explain things to him.”
Immanuel nodded, eyes huge. “I don’t know what to tell you. It was a pretty normal shift—”
“You weren’t scheduled.”
Immanuel’s head came up. “I … I always work the R-Bar. I mean, I did. Before…”
Brows coming together, Piper pursed her lips. “All right. I’ll check that later. So … you turn up for your normal shift.”
“Yes. And everything was normal until … Saikawa got out of the booth.” For a moment, his eyes cut to Shal and then he stared back down at his knees again. Swallowing, Immanuel grimaced. “I’d been trying to avoid that table all night because I was so…”
“Angry?” Piper’s voice had gentled.
“Disgusted. I was afraid I would do or say something and lose my job.” Immanuel laughed bitterly. “That would have been ironic, given that I had to take this godawful job because of what those bastards did to my grandpa—sorry.”
“Hey … I was a server, too, once upon a time. It is a godawful job. So you dumped a tray of drinks on her?”
Immanuel bit his lip, glancing from Piper to Shal. Tears and snot streaked his face as his breathing went hiccuppy and panicked. Piper grabbed his ankles and spun him so his back was to Shal and Tesla. “Shal … Back down the hall, but stay where I can see you.”
Tesla said, “You can’t still—”
Shal grabbed her hand, sending,::Quiet:: at the same time that Piper said, “Back. Down. The. Hall.”
::She can’t still think that you had anything to do with the murders. :: Tesla followed him, limping backward.
::I would, if I were her. :: He stopped at a nod from Piper, still within earshot of the conversation. ::But even if she doesn’t, Immanuel is terrified of us, and that’s complicating things. ::
“All right…” Piper settled on her heels and rested her arms on her knees in a position that Tesla would never be able to attempt now. “Did someone hurt you? Or threaten you?”
Immanuel shook his head. His hands, cuffed behind his back, clenched and unclenched. “I … I took a tip and I was afraid that—” His shoulders shook as he bowed his head. In front of him, Piper waited, until Immanuel’s breathing slowed and steadied. “It was huge and I was afraid that Chief Wisor would think I’d been paid to do more than I had.”
“What did you do?”
Immanuel’s mumbled answer vanished in the hum of the ship fans and the distant rattle of the kitchen.
“Okay…” Piper nodded. “Can you describe the passenger who gave you the spoofer?”
“He was wearing a courtesy mask. Dark, curly hair. About 180 centimeters. Nice shoulders.”
“Was it the passenger behind you?”
Shal tightened his grip on Tesla’s hand before she’d realized that she had opened her mouth. ::Let her do her job. ::
::But you didn’t—::
::Interfering will make me look guilty. :: His thumb ran down the side of her hand. ::Just wait it out. ::
Immanuel sniffled. “I thought it was.”
“But you don’t now?”
“He seemed taller?”
Piper pulled her handheld out of her pocket and unrolled the device, snapping it into an open and locked position. The flat rectangle glowed as her fingers danced above it, entering hand-gesture commands. She turned the screen to Immanuel. “Is he on this screen?”
Over his shoulder, the screen glowed with images of passengers and crew who bore a passing resemblance to Shal. All of them had ancestry that might have begun in the Middle East on Earth or under the sunlamps of Estación de Ganimedes. Shal’s picture had his half smile smoldering directly at the camera.
“I’m … Maybe the third from the right? Top row?”
That was not Shal, and Tesla sagged against him. He kissed her temple. ::Don’t get too excited. They’ll pull me in for a real lineup when we dock and by that point he’ll have seen me enough that—::
“Or the second from the left on the bottom?”
That was Shal. That was definitely Shal.
Piper turned the handy back to scroll through some additional screens. “We can look at the tip.”
“It was cash.” Immanuel hung his head, hands in tight fists.
“I see.” Piper glanced up at Shal as if, despite herself, she wanted to know what he thought.
Tesla tried not to feel left out of the silent conversation that they had. She saw Shal mouth something, but he was turned too much toward Piper for her to be able to tell what it was. Whatever he’d said made Piper grimace.
Piper turned back to Immanuel. “Who was working Saikawa’s table if you weren’t?”
“No one.” He hunched more miserably into the wall. “She was in my section, I just … didn’t go near her.”
“Did you see anyone who did? Was she there with anyone?”
He nodded. “I mean, she didn’t arrive with anyone, but Nile—the magician—he stopped by Saikawa’s table. And then another time I went past, there was another passenger and they were arguing.”
Tesla wanted to cheer. She’d been right.
“What did they look like?”
“White passenger. Early forties? Bald. Carried weight in the belly.” He shrugged, which could not have been easy with his arms pinned behind him. “Wearing … I think they had on a sequined shirt and a capelet that night?”
::I told her! That’s Ory Slootmaekers. :: Tesla took a step forward.
Piper saw her and raised her eyebrows while somehow also conveying that Tesla needed to stop where she was. At the same time, Shal pinged,::Don’t. ::
::We have to tell her. :: Sweating, Tesla pulled her hand free from Shal’s and concentrated on Piper. “Can I … can I talk to you for a moment?”
Sighing, Piper got to her feet. “If I don’t, I’m sure your lawyer will find something to sue me for.” She glared at Shal. “Back up.”
He held up his hands and backed farther down the hall. Tesla met Piper a few steps away from Immanuel and lowered her voice. “He’s describing Ory Slootmaekers.”
“I hate to break it to you, but there are a lot of bald white passengers on this ship.”
“And apparently a lot of hot Persian masc passengers too. Sure. Right. I get that—”
“Immanuel said the passenger told him that it was their honeymoon. Asked Immanuel to help protect their spouse from photographers.”
“Come on … Do you really think that if Shal had nefarious plans he would have given details to make it easier to identify him?” She grabbed hold of the rising whine in her voice and buried it under a corporate boardroom calm. “His description of events matches mine. And Ory Slootmaekers is the one that went to the bathroom right before Ruth Fish died.”
“The bathroom that Annie Smith reported as being out of order?” Rubbing her forehead, Piper chewed on her lower lip. She glanced over Tesla’s shoulder to look at Shal, eyes narrowing in thought. “All right … all right. I’ll set up a digital lineup of passengers and crew that match those descriptions and I’ll include him. We’ll get Immanuel to look at them. Will that make you happy?”
“Thank you.”
Piper’s sigh said that she would rather not be thanked and would honestly prefer it if everyone on the ship would lock themselves in their cabins for the duration, but especially Tesla and Shal. She tabbed open a screen and started dragging faces around.
Piper paused and looked back at Tesla. “What did you say his name was again?”
“Ory Slootmaekers, he/him.”
“You’re sure.”
Shal took a half step closer and stopped himself, balancing forward on his toes. “What do you have?”
“It’s what I don’t have.” Her fingers flicked through pages in agitation. “There’s no one on the passenger list named any variant of Ory Slootmaekers. Not on crew either.”
“Maybe he’s using a cover, like I did? And Jalna and Annie. Smith isn’t their last name either.” Tesla wet her lips. It couldn’t be that big of a deal that his name wasn’t in there. “Can you do a visua—”
“Already am.” She offered the handheld and beckoned Tesla closer. “Flip through these and tell me if you spot your person.”
As Piper said, there was no shortage of bald white people on the passenger and crew list. But after going through all the pages of bald white people, Tesla shook her head. “I don’t see him … Shal?”
He looked to Piper for permission before joining them. He flipped through the same pages, scowl deepening as he went. “No…”
“I didn’t make him up.” The edges of a panic attack made her skin feel too tight. Ory wasn’t on the list of the group yoga class. “Other people have seen him.”
“I didn’t say you had.” But the flatness of Piper’s tone said that she’d clearly thought it.
Tesla gnawed on the inside of her cheek. She wanted to call Fantine, but the comm lag was twelve minutes by now, so she sent a ping asking her to look for an Ory Slootmaekers. Meanwhile, there had to be other ways to find him. “Officer Piper, what about footage from the yoga studio? I know some times when he was definitely there.”
“Worth a try. When?”
“Last night. Ten-ish.” She paused, considering. “Also, there’s Ewen. His child. Maybe you can spot them? Sixteen? Also white. Shaved head. Violet eyes.”
“Got it.” Piper flipped to a secure page on her handheld, frowning at the device as she worked.
While they waited. Tesla had plenty of time to become aware of the servers standing at the far curve of the hall gawking up at them. She didn’t have her mask on and wasn’t even sure where it was. Tesla turned so her back was to them, taking refuge in the captain’s hat. It put her facing Immanuel, who had sunk into himself again.
“Goddammit.” Piper swiped furiously at her handheld. “There too?”
“What?” Shal leaned over her shoulder to look at the handheld. “Oh … everywhere?”
“Yep.”
Tesla raised her hand. “Everywhere, what?”
Piper lowered the handheld to glare at Tesla. “Everywhere you tell me he’s been, there’s been an active high-grade spoofer. I can’t find a single image of this guy or the kid.”
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Tesla shifted, trying to ease the high, thin whine of discomfort from her back. It was like a tinnitus of the spine, very present and annoying unless she kept the DBPS dialed up past its safety margins. Piper tapped a finger on the edge of the handheld, face creased in thought.
“Right.” She minimized the search and brought a different one to the front. This one had dozens of people with black bowl cuts and builds similar to the one that Shal had chased. She spun around and walked over to Immanuel. “Do you recognize any of these people?”
Immanuel sniffed and leaned closer to the handheld. “Um…”
Lower lip between her teeth, Tesla waited, half certain that Immanuel was about to point to Mahjabin. The yoga instructor had matched Shal’s description and would have had a reason to make a run for the yoga studio. Ory had to have registered for her class and yet wasn’t on the list, so she had to be involved in some way.
“I mean … I know Yuki. But that’s not surprising, is it?”
Piper pulled the handheld back. “Was he there that night?”
“Sure.” He shifted on the floor. “But that’s not unusual. He helps Nile Silver with his magic stuff.”
Shal leaned toward Piper and whispered in her ear. Her face stayed blank, but she gave a small nod before turning back to Immanuel. “Which end of the bar was he at?”
“The far end. By the prep station. I kept having to ask him to move when I came to pick up orders.”
The prep station had been right next to the service door, so it would have been very easy for him to slip out and walk down the corridor to the Yacht Club.
“And was he there all night?”
“Um…” Immanuel looked at the ceiling, squinting as if he were drawing the bar in his mind. “Yes. Well, I mean, until … the delta-gamma went out. He would have gone to the doors to make sure they were secured.”
“And you saw him there?”
He shook his head. “I was … in a corner puking.”
“Hm…” Shal slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged his way into a question. “Oh—there’s a thing I’m curious about. You said that the bald man and Silver were arguing. With each other or with Saikawa?”
“Shal.” Piper sliced her hand in front of him. Then sighed and faced Immanuel again. “All right … how much of the argument did you hear?”
At this, he hesitated, mouth pursed in thought. “I don’t know? Something about Nile’s show, maybe? I was only catching snippets as I went past.”
Piper studied the young server, one finger tapping on the edge of her handheld as her only sign of unrest. Blowing out a sigh, she turned to Shal and Tesla, shooing them back down the hall. “Right … I need to confine him.”
“Seems sensible.”
“Then I’m going to the theater to talk to Nile and Yuki. I’m going to ask you not to go to the theater without me.” She put her hands on her hips with a glower that could have served as the fuel source for a Pluto-bound rocket. “What I want is for you to go back to your cabin. You cannot pretend that the signal is poor. I’m right here in front of you. Go to your cabin.”
If they did, Piper would go to the theater without them and she wouldn’t share anything she learned without having her hand forced. Tesla hadn’t even gotten to see the show because the pyro—
Sparks fill the void. Tesla’s ears are ringing. The visor of the PAMU she’s testing flashes as the laboratory and space spin past in nauseating succession. The suit should autostabilize, and it’s not and she’s having trouble thinking and something is crushing her spine so all she can catch are short, gasping breaths that get cut off with red-hot stabbing pain.
“Tesla? You’re safe.” Shal was crouching in front of her, hands out but not touching her. “You’re on the Lindgren. We’re in a hallway and we’re on the way to Mars. You’re safe.”
She was bending over, hands on her knees, and her cane was on the floor and the thrumming of her pulse in her ears sounded like the whoosh of recycled oxygen in a spacesuit. Her heart was going too fast and there wasn’t enough air in the corridor and she needed her cane and she needed to get away from here. No, wait. She knew what this was.
Her next breath in was ragged but slow and she held it. I’m safe. The bruise around Shal’s eye. Immanuel’s blue trousers. The handheld in Piper’s right hand. A scuff on the floor shaped like a dragon. She let her breath out.
“I’m all right.” Her voice shook. She inhaled slowly again.
The hum of life support. Clatter of dishes. A service-drone whine. Footsteps in the distance. Exhale.
Shal shook his head. “I’m going to be bossy now, and we’re going back to the cabin.”
Tesla straightened and could feel the sweat beading on the backs of her knees and prickling in her armpits. “Can you hand me my cane?”
