Tommy collapsed into his usual chair, Penny settling on the arm of it. Kris waved the others to chairs and couches. Klaggath seemed inclined to stand, but Jack took him by the elbow. “When the woman starts one of her staff meetings, it’s best to sit down before what she says knocks you down.”
Kris threw Jack a glare, but Tom was answering her previous question. “I’ve got a few spurned captors. Think they might be after me?”
“Sandfire does seem to like pretty girls for his enforcers,” Penny remarked.
“One of the girls around Sandfire seemed to recognize Tom,” Kris said, a wicked smile taking over her face. “Any of those eyefuls your old girlfriends?”
“I was blindfolded and drugged to the gills. And believe me, none of them were treating me any way as nice as they do that SOB,” Tom shot back. “If I get alone with one of them, it will be breaking an arm I’ll be doing.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Jack said quietly. “If you looked past the next to nothing they were wearing, there was a lot of muscle on their bones. I would not put my scratch security team up against that bunch. Not if I could help it.”
“I caught a glimpse of a weapon on one of them,” Penny said.
“So, in the future, we assume Sandfire’s nymphs are armed and very dangerous,” Kris concluded.
“You seem to know a lot about Mr. Sandfire,” Klaggath said.
“We have reason to believe,” Jack said, leaning toward the Inspector on the couch they shared, “Mr. Sandfire does not like the Princess Royal. They have a history I can fill you in on later.” Bill raised two eyebrows but said nothing.
Penny was off the armchair, pacing back and forth. “Kris dropped everything on Wardhaven and came here in record time after Tom was kidnapped. She led the rescue team herself last night. Then Tom shows up as her escort tonight. I bet Sandfire figures Tom for Kris’s lover.”
Tom was shaking his head so fast it was in danger of coming unscrewed.
Kris tried to suppress a sigh.
“Of course, I know from debriefing Tom that he is no such thing, but Sandfire doesn’t know that.”
Now it was Kris’s turn to give Tom the evil eye. “I didn’t tell her anything,” Tom squeaked.
“But it was the way you didn’t tell me.” Penny grinned.
“Enough,” Kris said, holding up a hand. “What does this tell us?”
“Sandfire wants to hurt you,” Abby said. “But he’s mean enough not to do it to you but through others.” The room nodded at that. “And he does not want you out roaming his domain.”
“Tonight would make anyone want to hide under their bed,” Tommy agreed.
Kris sighed. “I got that message.”
“So, what do we do?” Jack asked.
Kris mulled over that question for a long minute. She’d never been one to do what she was told. Father had learned early to always explain why he wanted something. Being a politician, he was quite persuasive. Mother. Well, Mother had been Mother. True, since joining the Navy, Kris had been trying to learn the fine art of subordination, but Sandfire wasn’t in her chain of command. And Sandfire truly deserved something. She just wasn’t sure how really horrific it should be.
“We go public,” Kris said with an innocent smile. She turned to Penny, an order on her lips, but paused long enough to remember that orders were not hers to give. “Penny, would you mind being my social secretary for the duration of my stay?”
“Be careful, Penny,” Tom said. “When a Longknife starts asking politely, people are going to be dying before she’s done.”
“Tommy, you wrong her greatly,” Penny said, the exaggeration of her voice only confirming the accusation. “However, if I’ve got her social calendar, I’ll know where she is. That beats all hell out of chasing her. So, Princess Kristine, I will add your social life to my other duties as assigned. What do you intend?”
“I need time to think,” Kris said. “Mr. Klaggath, where are the skeletons buried on Turantic, and who’s doing the burying?”
The cop stroked his chin, then shook his head. “I’m a cop, ma’am. My job’s to find the recently buried and arrest who did it. I don’t think I’m your best source for gossip.” He paused, then quirked half a smile. “You seem to have more dirt on Mr. Sandfire than I’m party to. Maybe I should be asking you.”
Kris stood and walked slowly around the room, giving Tommy a back rub for a few moments, Abby a pat on the shoulder, and finally came to rest her hands on the couch back behind Jack. “Tell the Ambassador that I will be glad to show the flag at the regatta. Advise him I’m available for all the wine-tasting, cheese-cutting, and ribbon-slashing jobs he can lay on me.” She paused for a moment. “Tell him I’m open to visiting the sick up in Bremen.” Jack started up from his seat, but Kris grabbed his shoulders and hauled him back down. “In a full spacesuit.”
“You’re going to be a busy girl,” Abby said.
“In full body armor,” Kris said, “and I shoot back next time.”
Kris awoke early next morning, refreshed and relieved not to remember her dreams. That lasted just long enough for her to remember she had left Nelly on the dresser. She did need some quiet down time with her computer . . . just not today.
After a quick shower, Kris found a suit laid out for her. Conservatively cut in a dark blue, it was the kind of day wear Mother dismissed as “fine for a woman who knows how to count beans but knows nothing really important.” To date, Mother had yet to define what was really important. “This bulletproof?” Kris asked, dressing herself.
“The slip is,” Abby answered, entering the room with a light blue beret in hand. “So is this,” she said, twirling the head cover to Kris. “It also has a nice antenna for Nelly.”
“You are full of surprises,” Kris said, pulling on the skirt.
“So is the world. The trick is to have one more surprise in your pocket than the world has up its sleeve.”
“Or in your travel trunks.”
“Or wherever.”
Penny appeared at the door. “For an empty day, you’re up early and not dressing to lounge around. What’s up?”
“A visit to Nuu Pharmaceuticals to start with. I want Mr. Winford to say to my face that he didn’t steal the vaccine.”
“Should I order a cab? Kartum could probably use the fare.”
Kris nodded, then shook her head. “People who get too close to me get killed. Have Klaggath order me a car, not too flashy. Cop for a driver and plenty of armor.”
“Doing it.”
The ride down the beanstalk was uneventful. Kris exited the terminal to find a late-model car waiting, green and about as nondescript as they came. Only the hum of the motor and the heavy way it sat its shocks gave away how special it was. Penny held the door open, but Kris paused before settling in.
Across the parking lot, workingmen were going and coming from a second, newer terminal. On one side, large trucks were backing up to a vast loading dock. “What’s that?”
“That,” Penny said, “is the ground terminal serving the space dock. It loads its own cars, both workers and material. Totally separate security system. Best in fifty planets.”
Kris glanced back at the terminal she’d just left. “No interchange?”
“Not so much as a breath of air.”
“Seems like overkill,” Kris said, then remembered the tiny mobile bugs that Nelly was having to work so hard to keep out of her room. “Then again, maybe he knows what he’s keeping out,” she said and settled into her seat.
Tom shared the backseat with her and Penny. Jack was in front with the driver. “Minimum detail?” Tom asked as they pulled away from the curb.
A moment later they were joined by a car ahead and another behind. “Full detail,” Jack said. “So, Princess, where to?”
“Nuu Pharmaceuticals,” Kris said.
The driver repeated the address, probably for the cars around them, then punched in the address, but kept his own hands on the wheel. “You’ll also need to drop by the embassy, ma’am.”
“I don’t mind going, but why?”
“Klaggath said you might want to get your passport stamped, or maybe a passport issued and stamped if you don’t have one.”
“A passport?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’re becoming the thing for foreigners on Turantic. Used to be it was only the Earth types or their seven stooges we demanded them from, but the last couple of weeks it seems anyone without legal papers is subject to deportation.”
“I got here two days ago and no one asked me for any papers,” Kris said slowly.
“I suspect you got the royal treatment, ma’am. Inspector suggests that you might not want to keep counting on that.”
“I agree,” Jack said. “Just now they can’t deport anyone. You could end up cooling your heels in a jail cell.”
Time was Kris would have considered a couple of days in jail as a relaxing vacation from her social duties. Now that she was using social as warfare by other means, it might be a good idea to cover all her bases. “We’ll do the embassy right after this. I want to be there when Winford opens the door.”
Nuu Pharm was a low warehouse in an industrial park just this side of the bluff from Katyville. That was enough to make for an entirely different milieu. The concrete walls were newly painted tan. The barbed-wire-topped fence around the warehouse yard was in good repair, new patches gleaming against the older wire. There was a small patch of grass in front of the office entrance. The Nuu flag waved lazily in the light breeze that carried only a small whiff of river and pollution. Five men and women in work clothes and a woman in office dress waited at the door.
“Nelly, what time does this place open?”
“Twelve minutes ago.”
“Let’s go see why it’s still locked up.” Kris and her team piled out of the car. A dozen others, obviously cops despite their civilian clothes, were also spreading over the parking lot to the alarm of the working folks at the door.
“We didn’t do nothing.” “We don’t know nothing,” came from the workers, along with a “What do you want?” from the better-dressed woman as she came down the sidewalk toward the police. “We filled out all your reports yesterday.”
Kris walked to cut her off from the officers. “I know you did, ma’am. I just wanted to talk to Mr. Winford.” The woman eyed Kris for a moment without recognition. “I’m Kris Longknife, a Nuu Enterprises stockholder.”
“Right, I saw you this morning. Newsies said someone shot at you last night.”
“They missed.”
“And you want to know what happened to our vaccine supply?”
“Yes, Ms. . . .”
“Mrs. Zacharias.”
“Mrs. Zacharias, why is everyone waiting outside?”
“Mr. Winford is very particular about security, Miss Longknife. Or do you want me to call you Princess or something?”
“Kris will be fine. So you won’t open the office?”
“No, ma’am. Mr. Winford uses an old-fashioned key lock that can’t be jiggered or hacked. He figures that’s the best way to handle things nowadays.”
“Where is Mr. Winford?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. He’s never late.” There were assents and nods from the workmen to support that point.
Kris turned around in exasperation at this check to her schedule, only to find her driver approaching, a reader in hand. “Ms. Longknife, you’re waiting for a Mr. Winford?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid you may have a long wait ahead of you.” He offered her the reader. It showed the face of a man she recognized from last night. Mr. Winford looked slightly better rested, but very dead.
“What happened?”
“His body was found near a wooded jogging path this morning. It appears he had been dead less than an hour.”
“Cause of death?” Jack asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
Officious people could be a real pain sometimes. “Is it being handled as natural causes?” Kris asked.
The driver glanced at another agent coming up beside him, whom Kris suspected was the head of this detail. “No, ma’am, we are not treating it as natural causes,” the new man said. “I’m Inspector Marta, and we are handling it as a homicide.”
Jack turned to Kris. “Please, get back in the car.”
“Jack, I came to see what happened here. I’m not leaving before I’m finished.
“Fine, but humor me and sit in the car until I’m sure this area is safe.”
So Kris humored Jack. She tried not to fume in the car while Jack and the cops covered the grounds like a nest of very disturbed bees. Her focus of attention changed when Penny brought a tearful Mrs. Zacharias to join her in the car. There were tissues in the seat back; Kris offered the woman the box.
“Thank you,” she said, blowing her nose. “I don’t know what you think of Mr. Winford, but he was a good man to work for. An honest man, and there aren’t a lot of them left in business.”
Kris agreed. The woman made use of a few more tissues, then opened her purse and began rummaging in it. “He told me to use it if there was ever an emergency. I don’t imagine there can be much more of an emergency than this.” Kris agreed further, wondering how much longer before Jack declared the place safe.
Mrs. Zacharias pulled a key from her purse. “You think your police will mind if I let the crew in so they can get to work? I don’t imagine Nuu Enterprises wants us to take the day off.”
“That’s the office key!”
“Of course. If Mr. Winford came down sick or something, you don’t expect he’d leave the company in the lurch, do you?”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Kris said, opening the door and waving the key at Jack. Five minutes later, the crew were at work, and Kris was sitting next to Mrs. Zacharias as she checked for messages, released orders, and got the day’s work started. “Sales have been falling the last few years,” Kris said as she watched Mrs. Zacharias’s old-fashioned screen.
“Competition is tough. ‘Cutthroat,’ Mr. Winford called it. And it being company policy not to pay bribes or anything that smelled of it, it was hard enough for him to keep his old customers. Impossible to get new ones.”