"Come now," said Garshak. "Isn"t that being rather pedantic? We must obey the spirit, not just the letter of the law. Surely you are both guilty of Suppressio veri et suggestio Suppressio veri et suggestio falsi falsi?" He saw Chris"s baffled face and said, "Suppressing the truth "
"And suggesting a falsehood," completed Roz, thankful she"d remembered the sc.r.a.p of Old Earth legal jargon from some long ago course in the Adjudicator"s Academy.
"Exactly," beamed Garshak. "So refreshing to deal with a being of education."
Roz bowed her head, accepting the compliment. "All the same, Chief, surely the law is pedantic? It means what it says.
Did we actually claim to be police? No, we didn"t. Case dismissed."
"Generally speaking, your argument would be irrefutable.
However, here in Megacity the law is rather more flexible. It means what I say it means." Garshak leaned forward. "I don"t give a Drashig"s fart about the charge," he roared. "What I want to know is, why have you two been going around why have you two been going around Megacity asking questions? Megacity asking questions? " "
"Why is it such a big deal?" asked Chris innocently.
"Because a lot of very important people in Megacity have something to hide. Quite a few somethings, most of them.
Stock deals, share manipulations, irregular sources of income, involvement in organized crime..."
Roz frowned. "If you know so much about these people, why don"t you do something about it?"
"Why should I? It"s not my job."
"Then what do they pay you for? What is is your job?" your job?"
"To keep reasonable order on the streets, not to mention the bars and dives, to lock up drunken miners, to see tourists aren"t robbed more than is reasonable, or murdered unless absolutely necessary and to manage Megacity so that the rich who run it keep getting richer." Garshak smiled, showing long, yellow fangs. "It"s the job of the police in most big cities actually. We"re just a little more open about it here. Oh, and they don"t pay me by the way. Not a single credit."
Roz smiled. She and Chris weren"t paid either, not as such.
She remembered asking the Doctor if they drew a salary.
Chris looked at the richly dressed figure and glanced around the luxuriously furnished room. "Then how..."
"The job is self-financing," explained Garshak. "How do you think we arrived so quickly at the change bureau? The late proprietor paid a regular fee for quick service in case of trouble. So does every bar, club and casino in town, incidentally. Then there are our criminal clients like your fellow pa.s.sengers."
"What happens to them?"
"The two miners will be released as soon as they"ve sobered up and paid a small fine. Usually the mining corporation pays it, and docks it from their wages."
"What about the other one?"
"The Alpha Centaurian?" Garshak beamed. "Now he really is worth something. He"ll have to pay a very large fine."
"Why does he have to pay more than the others?"
Garshak looked at him in surprise. "Because he"s got got more. more.
They"re poor miners, he"s a prosperous merchant. Surely that"s only fair? Besides, Alpha Centaurians hate scandal, so he"ll pay extra for a quick release and no publicity."
Roz gave him a disgusted look. "Wall to wall corruption.
Quite a system you"ve got here."
"Thank you," said Garshak. "I"m only a poor corrupt police official but I do my best. But we seem to be straying from the point. You still haven"t told me the purpose of your activities here."
"Can"t we just pay a fine and leave?" asked Chris.
Garshak shook his head. "Unless you"re a little more frank with me, you won"t be leaving at all."
"You can"t do that," said Roz indignantly. "What about our rights?"
"You haven"t any," said Garshak simply. "I can lock you in a cell in the sub-bas.e.m.e.nt and forget about you. They"re so inefficient down there, they"ll probably forget to feed you."
Chris looked enquiringly at Roz. "Looks like we don"t have any choice."
It was time for the cover story. Roz leaned forward and her face took on the expression of transparent honesty that always meant she was lying. "Well, to tell you the truth, chief we"re P.I.s operatives for Pinkerton Intergalactic."
She indicated her breast pocket. "May I?"
Garshak nodded.
Taking care to move slowly, Roz produced a silver badge in a black leather holder and held it out. The badge showed an open eye in a silver circle.
Even Garshak was impressed. "Pinks!"
The Pinkerton Agency The Eye That Never Sleeps had started on Earth, back in the mists of history, a spy service in some long forgotten civil war. It had flourished as far back as the nineteenth and twentieth centuries" and when men had gone to the stars the Agency had soon followed.
Public justice and public policing were often erratic on far-flung worlds, and the demand for the private kind grew ever stronger. In their hundreds of years of existence the Pinks had acquired legendary status. Stars of innumerable holovid series, agents of interplanetary justice, invisible and invincible, they were everywhere, and they never gave up. Whatever the obstacles, whatever the odds, they always got their sentient life-form.
Garshak studied the badge. "Pinks in Megacity this is not going to rea.s.sure the bosses. Who are you after?"
Roz put the badge away. "No one they need worry about.
Someone from off-planet, like us."
"We"re chasing a serial killer," said Chris. "We call him the Ripper and we"ve tracked him from planet to planet."
"What made you pick up on the change bureau job?"
"Typical Ripper MO," said Roz. "We think he spends most of his loot on s.p.a.celiner fares he always travels as far as he can. He"s broke when he arrives, so his first job is done to raise petty cash, often somewhere near the s.p.a.ceport."
"What does he do next?"
"He usually does a few more jobs, until he"s raised enough finance to feel secure. Then he digs in, gets to know the score, picks a victim, does one last big job and moves on."
"Anything else?"
"Usually not always, but usually he partially dissects his victims. And he steals their ident.i.ty as well."
Garshak looked puzzled. "He does what?"
"He nearly always impersonates his victim after the murder," explained Chris. "That"s how he makes his getaway.
He did it again today."
Garshak sat back considering all they"d told him, balancing profit and loss for himself and the tyc.o.o.ns who ruled Megacity.
"It doesn"t seem like this new arrival is going to be much of an a.s.set for my masters on the City Council."
"They might find him a downright liability," said Roz.
"They sound just like the sort of people he"d go for."
"How come?"
"The Ripper doesn"t like to use credit, leaves too much of a trail. So he tends to go for people who have large sums in easily realizable a.s.sets credit bills, bearer-bonds and so on.
And who keeps large sums of untraceable cash around? Top-level crooks."
She smiled sweetly at Garshak. "Sounds just like your City Councillors to me!"
Chris gave him a sincere look. "So you see, Chief, it can only be to their advantage, and yours, to co-operate with us."
Garshak seemed to be thinking hard. "Who"s actually after this Ripper?"
"We are," said Chris innocently.
"Who"s paying the bills?"
"He killed a multi-millionaire banker back on Earth," said Roz. "The family want him caught whatever it costs."
Garshak was still searching for an angle. "Is there a reward?"
Roz shook her head. "The Agency advised against it. Big rewards bring big publicity. We don"t want every bounty hunter in the galaxy muddying the trail and scaring off our Ripper."
Garshak looked dejected. "Pity."
He cheered up when Roz went on, "There is, however, a substantial contingency fund. We are authorized to make discretionary payments to anyone who is of real help to us."
Garshak held out an enormous hand, palm-upwards.
"To anyone who is of real help," repeated Roz.
"Letting you go is a real help, isn"t it? You won"t do much investigating from inside a cell."
"Good point." Roz produced a sheaf of Megacity credit notes and began dealing them one by one into the leathery palm.
When she stopped Garshak said, "Don"t forget your fines."
She dealt more notes.
"And the voluntary contribution to the Police Benevolent Fund?"
"What benevolence?" said Roz, putting the notes away. "I haven"t seen any. Forget it!"
"Ah well," said Garshak. He closed his palm and the notes disappeared inside his jerkin.
"Now start earning it," said Roz, a snap in her voice. She stood up, leaning over the desk, glaring into the astonished Ogron"s face. "I want a list of the biggest and richest crooks in town, and the names of all the joints they own or where they hang out."
Garshak looked horrified. "I can"t let you have a list like that! It"s more than my job"s worth."
"Call it a list of civic benefactors and their favourite beauty spots if you like," snarled Roz. "I need names and places and I need them now! Oh, and put out a full description of the murdered manager of the change bureau."
It was Roz at her most forceful, and there was no resisting her. Garshak"s long, hairy fingers stabbed at the desk-computer console. There was a whirring and chuntering and an ancient printer ground out a long strip of coa.r.s.e paper bearing a list of names and addresses in blurred type.
Garshak handed it over. "Don"t leave it lying about."
"If there"s an emergency, my partner will eat it," promised, Roz. "Get the description of the murdered change-bureau manager on the most-wanted list right away."
"But he"s dead!" protested Garshak.
"Only after a fashion," said Roz. "There"s a good chance the Ripper may still be using his appearance. And tell your beat patrols to be on the look-out for unexplained strangers with money, bizarre or violent behaviour, all the usual stuff .
"In Megacity," said Garshak, "bizarre and violent behaviour is pretty much the norm. But I"ll do my best for you."
"Right, that"s it, for the moment," said Roz. "If we could have our property back?"
Garshak opened a drawer and produced a small slim-line blaster, a much larger one, a neuronic stun-sap, and the hovercraft driver"s vibroknife, laying them on the desk.
Roz picked up the slim blaster and tucked it back into its underarm holster. She looked at the other a.s.sorted armaments for a moment. She"d carried a vibroknife herself for a while but she didn"t like to any more.
She turned to Chris who was finishing off the last of the cakes. "Come on, pick up your toys and let"s get going. We"ve got work to do!"