Deadly Relations: Bester Ascendant (30 page)

“Mr. Bester, I presume?”

He turned his attention from the view to a really quite attractive young woman-early twenties - with coppery hair cut in a Dutch bob.

“Yes?”

“I’m Lyta Alexander. I’ll be your assistant while you’re here.”

“Well, a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Alexander. How long have your worked here?”

She blushed.

“Actually, only a few weeks. I came here to intern with MetaPol - not as a cop, because I’m only a P5 - but as a profiler. Unfortunately, the department is shorthanded, so they couldn’t spare a real cop-or someone with more experience on the planet - to assist you.”

“Why are they so shorthanded?”

“We’ve lost two men in the last two weeks, and their replacements haven’t arrived…”

“Lost?”

“Killed By the Blinder.”

“Blinder?”

“It’s what we call the serial killer.”

“Ah. My quarry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well. Let’s get started, then.”

“Let me get your bag.”

“No. I’ve got it. Though it seems like it weighs twice what it did when I left home. I must learn to resist those duty-free shops.”

“Well,” Lyta began, tentatively. “You’re aware the gravity is a little higher here…”

“It was a joke, Lyta. May I call you Lyta?”

“Oh. I… I’m sorry, yes, please do.”

“For some reason, no one ever expects me to have a sense of humor,” he mused.

He noticed her smile hesitantly.

“Alexander,” he mused. “Any relation to Natasha Alexander?”

“My grandmother,” she said, a bit surprised.

“I met her once.”

Lyta smiled.

“When I was a little girl, she used to bring me presents - well, they came through the Grins, of course, but I always knew they really came from Grandma.”

“You were in Cadre Prime?”

She nodded affirmatively.

“My mother was the only woman in our line in the last four generations who wasn’t. She was only a P2, so she was in the Basement at first, but when she was still pretty young, Grandma arranged for some relatives to raise her outside Teeptown. She was monitored, of course, but never actively attached to the Corps.”

“Four generations?”

“Six, really - all the way back to Desa Alexander, back before it was even Psi Corps.”

“Yes, I guessed you were from one of the old families, since you kept your mitochondrial name. I… Corps.”

“Yes, I was a Cadre Primer myself, you know.”

She nodded again, and they went a few steps in silence.

“Lyta, I’m a little slight on the details of this case. The killer isn’t a telepath?”

“No, sir - we don’t think so.”

“So I was brought in because he killed Psi Cops?”

“Oh, no, sir. That’s only happened in the past two days. He’s killed four other telepaths. He only kills telepaths.”

“I see. Well, I suppose I should get briefed on the forensics data, then have a look at the crime scenes…”

“Actually, sir, I have some bad news. We found another body just a few hours before you arrived. Looks like the same killer. Our station chief is out of town, and local law enforcement has been wanting to go in, but we’ve been trying to hold it for you. I don’t know how much longer we can.”

“Oh. By all means, then - let’s go.”

They took a surface car, something Bester hadn’t done in quite some time. They kept the top down, driving through the hot wind past rows of single-story buildings made of cut and dressed volcanic stone, with pitched metal roofs. Most of the houses had gardens. This was a roomy city, lots of space.

Wide streets. Not like Mars, or many places on Earth, for that matter. They stopped at a house that - in most cities on Earth - would have been a mansion. On Mats it would have been quite simply unthinkable. Here it seemed to be better than modest.

The street out front was swarming with police cars, reporters, gawkers.

“Oh, no,” Lyta said. “It looks like they’ve gone in.”

She opened her door, jumped out, and came around to let him out, but he was already out, staring at the house. They pushed quickly through the crowd and up to the police line. A young fellow was manning it his uniform was unfamiliar in detail, but obvious in type. He was a deputy or the equivalent. He looked at Bester and Lyta and clearly didn’t like what he saw, but he let them in, if reluctantly.

“It’s time to clear up a few things,” Bester confided to Lyta.

There was blood and a body-but for the moment he ignored them, and instead picked the man who looked to be in charge and walked up to him.

“You’re the detective in charge?” he asked.

The fellow looked away from his notepad and down at Bester. Physically, he gave Bester the impression of a snowman made of ground beef, with two olives for eyes. Bester had once seen such an atrocity at the Museum of Modern Art on Mats.

“Yep a regular mind reader,” the detective said, eyeing Bester’s badge and grinning broadly at his own joke.

“That’s terribly funny,” Bester said. “And I do mean terribly. My name is Alfred Bester. You are aware that this investigation has come under Psi Corps jurisdiction?”

“I know that the Blinder killings are under Psi Corps jurisdiction, yeah. I had no way of knowing this was one of his without investigating, though. Do I need to draw you a picture, or can you just suck it right out of me?”

Bester frowned slightly and turned to survey the crime scene.

“She was a registered telepath?”

“Yep. Business telepath, pretty well-to-do. They all are.”

“What?”

“Your business telepaths. All pretty well-to-do.”

“Ah. You don’t care for telepaths, Mr…”

“Stesco. Captain Stesco. No, I can’t say that I do. Most of us immigrated here to get away from them, and…”

“Really? You came all this way just to get away from telepaths? And everyone else on the planet did, too?”

He kept talking because he was looking at the body. He kept talking to stay detached. The most obvious thing about the dead woman was that her eyes were gone.

“Not just telepaths,” Stesco modified. “There were lots of things we didn’t like about Earth. Hey, don’t get me wrong - I’m no bigot. I’ve got nothing against any of you personally. It’s just… I just think if a fellow wants to live someplace with no fear his mind is gonna be picked over by somebody, he ought to have the right.”

“Separate but equal, Mr. Stesco?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Why don’t you have local laws against the use of business telepaths?”

“We did, until a few years ago.”

“So who let the snake into your little garden?”

“A coalition of businesses. Recent immigrants. Beta’s changed a lot in the past few years, not for the better. There’s your proof.” He waved at the corpse.

“I don’t see what your complaint is,” Bester said. “Up until now, you people could only daydream about killing telepaths. Now you have real, live ones to play out your fantasies with.”

“Hey, like I said…”

“You aren’t a bigot. Yes, I heard you the first time. How many legs does a dog have, if you count the tail as a leg?”

“Huh?”

“How many legs does a dog have if you count.”

“I… five, I guess.”

“Wrong. Four. Because a tail is not a leg, even if you say it is.”

“Hilarious.”

Stesco looked as if he thought it was anything but.

“Thank you. What are these marks on her arms?”

“When we found her she was tied up and hanging from the ceiling. We cut her down.”

“You what?”

“Wasn’t decent, a naked woman hanging up like that. The reporters might have taken her picture.”

“What a charming little world this is,” Bester remarked acidly. “You didn’t sew her mouth up for some reason, did you?”

“No, she was like that when we found her.”

“Like this - but hanging from the ceiling.”

“I told you.”

“Could you clear the rest of your men out? I need to talk to you alone.”

“Why alone?”

“Detective, I’m in charge here now, whether you like it or not. You know it. And I assure you, it’s best that this next conversation take place without your men around.”

Stesco frowned, but went over to talk to his men. Bester continued his inspection of the body.

“Were the rest like this?” he asked Lyta, who stood to one side, looking very pale.

“Yes. Eyes gouged out, mouth sewn shut. He poured something in their ears, a kind of fast-hardening epoxy.”

“What was the actual cause of death?”

“Suffocation. We think that after - sealing up - everything, he pinched their noses shut.”

“Yes. Maybe he did it many times? Tortured them? Brought them nearly to death and then let them breathe, repeated the process? Deprived them of their senses so they could see only through his eyes, hear only through his ears as he was killing them?”

“Maybe. The MO was a little different on the two cops.”

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Bester said.

The door was closing, Stesco returning.

“Now what?” Stesco said. “You gonna chew me out for stepping on your investigation? You could’ve done that in front of my men.”

“Yes, I could have,” Bester replied, flashing Stesco a little smile. “But I couldn’t have done this.”

He hit Stesco with a fugue to hold him and then a midrange scan. The big man’s knees went rubbery and he swayed there, mouth twitching, drool running down his chin.

When Bester was finished, he murmured, “And now, let’s make sure you don’t remember our little moment together…” and he made a few more adjustments. A moment later, Stesco’s glazed eyes suddenly began seeing again.

“Whoa!” he grumbled. “Got dizzy for a second there.”

“I advise you to watch your blood pressure, Captain Stesco,” Bester said, helpfully. “You don’t seem like a well man.”

“Well, what do you want, anyway?”

“Just to thank you for your time and to assure you that I’ll report whatever I come up with directly to you.”

“Oh. Well, thanks. Guess I’ll be going now.”

“I guess you will.”

After he was gone, he turned to Lyta and found her staring at him in undisguised horror.

“You have something to say, Lyta?”

“I… sir, that was illegal.”

“Yes, well - I was tired of talking to him. The man had a foul mouth. A foul mind, too, but a scan is over with more quickly than a long conversation. Besides, it was a fairly cursory scan, with minimal damage-and he won’t remember a thing.”

“But sir…”

“Look at her, Lyta.” He pointed toward the corpse. “Look at her. There she lies, dead and mutilated. She’s not the first, but by God we can make sure she’s the last. If I have to scan a few small-minded bigots to speed up the process of catching this monster and protecting our people, I’m not above it.”

Her face struggled to find an expression and settled for a dead neutral. He sighed.

“Lyta, when I was younger I believed in doing things by the book. I still do, when it makes sense. But in cases like these, I’ve become more interested injustice than in procedure. Sue me.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, though it was clear to him she still did not agree. “Did you learn anything from him?”

“As it happens - yes. He isn’t the killer, and he doesn’t know who the killer was. He doesn’t want to know who the killer was - he thinks our man is doing a fine job, ridding his planet of teeps. Which is perhaps why he hasn’t mentioned to the Corps what he does know.”

“Which is?”

“There was another killing a week ago that he thinks has something to do with this. A mundane named Jack Finn.”

“It’s not in the record.”

“I didn’t think it would be. You have a summary report of all of this for me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I’ll want that first. I also want you to look up anything you can find on Jack Finn.”

He looked around.

“What about the security system?”

“Our killer has some way around it. We almost caught him, the first time, because a call did go out. Response time was slow, probably because the house belonged to a telepath. Still, we think the patrol only missed the killer by a few minutes.”

“That only happened the first time? Since then there have been no calls?”

“That’s correct, sir. Umm, excuse me, sir… my telephone…”

She unfolded the small device.

“Alexander here. Oh, yes - we’re at the crime scene. Yes, of course, Ms. Mallory, I’ll ask.” She lowered the phone. “Our station chief is back and would like to see you at your earliest convenience.”

“Mallory? Would that be Anne Mallory?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell her we’ll be right there.”

Lyta did so, then closed the phone.

“You know Ms. Mallory?”

“Sure, we worked together some back on Earth. A good cop.”

“Would you like to put your things in your room, before going to the office?”

“No, plenty of time for that. I don’t want to keep Anne waiting.”

“Al. So pleased to see you again.”

“You haven’t changed since we served together under de Vries, Anne. I had no idea you were out here on Beta.”

“Oh, I’m here, all right. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you at the crime scene - I was on the other side of the pole zone, checking out some leads to another case when we got the word. I knew your ship was getting in about that time, and I knew you were competent to handle it. Any trouble?”

“The scene had been disturbed.”

“By Captain Stesco?” Her face colored. “I left definite orders…”

“Captain Stesco seems to have some problems with authority - when the authority is a teep. Don’t worry - I think next time you’ll find him a bit more - pliant.”

Anne Mallory’s narrow face took on a sudden worried caste.

“Al, you didn’t. I know your reputation…”

“And so does the Corps. They wouldn’t have sent me, Anne, if they didn’t think my methods were needed here.”

At least he hoped that was the case.

“Al, this isn’t Mars, that’s all I’m saying. The locals are sometimes-narrow-minded.”

“I’m used to that. Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet. But I’ll find the killer. You don’t kill seven of my people and just walk away. How many officers can you give me?”

“For walking around? Just Ms. Alexander, I’m afraid When you really need them, three.”