"Go on," said Chris encouragingly.
"They were in there quite a while. Then Mr Sakis came out, carrying this big plastic sack. Said he"d got to go out somewhere on important business, I was to look after things till he got back."
"How did he look, when he was talking to you?" asked Roz.
"Weird. He didn"t look at me and his voice was sort of flat."
Roz nodded. The clerk went on with his story.
"Anyway, off he went and after a while I realized I hadn"t seen the customer leave. There"s only one way out of the office, and it wasn"t like the boss to leave anyone alone in there. So I thought I"d better check. He"d locked the door but I"ve got a code-card for emergencies, so I opened it and went in..."
He broke down, his voice quivering.
"Take it slowly," said Chris gently.
"Sakis was lying in the middle of the floor," said Relk.
"Even though I"d just seen him go out. His body was all cut up..."
"You mean stabbed? Slashed and hacked about?"
Relk shook his head. "It was neater than that tidier. Bits of his insides were arranged beside the body."
Roz looked across at Chris. "Could just be an organ-legger.
We don"t want to waste our time." She turned back to the clerk. "Any bits missing? Heart, lungs, liver?"
"How the h.e.l.l would I know?" said Relk, showing sudden signs of spirit. "I"m an accountant not a medic. I didn"t take an inventory of his guts. I don"t know what"s supposed to be in there in the first place!"
"All right," said Chris soothingly. "Then what?"
"Then I called the police, of course," said Relk. "They turned up in their own good time, made me tell the story ten times over, took the body away and told me not to leave town."
"I take it the safe was emptied as well?" asked Roz.
Relk nodded. "Two days" takings nearly fifty thousand credits."
"Was it broken into?"
"No, just opened. He must have made the boss do it before...
Chris looked meaningfully at Roz. Hanno Seth"s vault had been opened and emptied too.
"It"s him," said Chris quietly.
Roz nodded. "Looks like it."
"You mean something like this has happened before?"
asked Relk excitedly. "The guy"s a serial killer, right? Is there a reward? I could identify him!"
"I"d keep quiet about that if I were you," warned Roz. "He might come back and rearrange your innards too. What did your boss look like?"
"What do you care, he"s dead. Why don"t you go down to the city morgue and take a good look if you"re so interested?"
Roz reached out and grabbed him by the collar, her knuckles digging into his skinny neck. "Just answer the question!"
The clerk croaked something indistinguishable, and Roz squeezed harder. "Speak up!"
Gently Chris moved her hands away. "He can"t talk while you"re choking him." He turned to Relk who was ma.s.saging his neck and gasping for breath. "Please answer the question, sir. I a.s.sure you that it"s in your own best interests to a.s.sist us with our enquiries."
"What question?" croaked Relk.
"The same one," snarled Roz. "What did your boss look like?"
"He was tall," croaked Relk. "Very tall with silver hair, always wore it long. He had this natty little pointed beard and he always wore the best, silk robes mostly."
"That"s more like it. Clear off!"
"Thank you for your co-operation, sir," said Chris. Relk sneered at him and hurried away.
Roz looked at Chris. Now what?"
"We go on looking."
"How?" demanded Roz. "Where? He"s got more credits and a new appearance."
"We"ve got the new description."
"What"s the point? We won"t find a trace of him until there"s another killing and another and another. Until he gets tired of this planet and moves on to "
"Fresh fields and slaughters new," said Chris poetically.
"With us panting behind like a pair of worn-out Vrangian tracker-pigs. I"m getting pretty tired of it, Chris."
Suddenly they heard the roar of ground-car rocket motors, hoa.r.s.e angry shouts and the tramp of booted feet. Three enormous figures burst into the room. Bigger even than Chris, they wore jackboots, leather trousers and leather jerkins. They had ma.s.sive skulls, brutal underhung jaws and high-domed foreheads fringed with matted hair. They carried big old-fashioned blasters, all trained on Roz and Chris.
Roz knew a gang of Ogron bandits when she saw one. She turned to Relk, who could be seen hovering behind the three giant newcomers. "Don"t just stand there, call the police," she yelled.
She was reaching for her blaster when Chris"s hand gripped her arm. "No use calling the police. They are the police!" He pointed to the rusty badge pinned to the leading giant"s jerkin.
The Ogron stepped forward. "You come with us!" it roared.
"You under arrest!"
2.
Chief "I don"t think you quite understand," said Chris. "You see we"re private investigators engaged on a legitimate "
"You under arrest! You come with us!"
Chris reached in his pocket for his credentials and was immediately grabbed by a pair of huge hairy hands.
Strong as he was, Chris knew better than to wrestle with an Ogron.
"Tell you what," he said. "Why don"t I just come with you?"
Chris and Roz were grabbed, roughly searched, and relieved of their weapons. They were dragged out of the office, through the change bureau and thrown into the back of an armoured hover-wagon, already occupied by two burly miners and a deeply depressed Alpha Centaurian.
The latter was so overcome by the shame of arrest that he sat huddled in the corner with his head in his tentacles.
The miners were still fighting drunk. Chris had to bang their heads together to ensure a peaceful journey.
He then had to spend some time pacifying Roz, though rather more gently. She"d scooped up many a suspect herself, but she didn"t much care for being on the other end of the process.
"Try and see it as a new perspective on law-enforcement,"
urged Chris.
Roz told him where to put his perspective.
After what seemed like a very long ride, the wagon screeched to a halt and they were all decanted in a cobbled yard behind a high wall. Their fellow pa.s.sengers were hustled away towards a low stone cell-block. Chris and Roz were taken into the main building, marched up a grimy stone staircase, and thrown into a holding cell, a barred recess in a long corridor. The building was dark and dank and gloomy, like some medieval castle. The stone walls seemed soaked in the pain and suffering of the prisoners who had pa.s.sed through here. Somehow you felt there were dungeons and torture chambers down below.
Chris looked around, sniffed deeply and smiled happily.
"What are you looking so cheerful about?" snarled Roz.
"Oh, I don"t know...It"s all so familiar somehow. I mean, a station house is a station house any planet you go to. They"re all more alike than they"re different. They even smell the same."
"I hate to spoil this orgy of nostalgia, but we happen to be on the wrong side of the bars here."
"It"s probably all a mistake," said Chris optimistically.
"You think so? What kind of administration uses Ogrons for police work?"
"No wonder those furry muggers pleaded with us not to call the police," said Chris. "At least there seems to be some respect for the forces of Law and Order here."
"Law and Order? In Megacity?" snarled Roz. "Don"t make me laugh. The Chief of Police is probably a Dalek!"
After the usual interminable wait, another feature of station houses everywhere, an Ogron policeman appeared, opened the cell, and motioned them out with a blaster. They were herded along a stone corridor and shown into an enormous office.
The guard shoved them into the centre of the room and stepped back, standing sentinel at the door.
Chris and Roz looked around them in amazement. The vast room was lavishly carpeted, its walls lined with gorgeous hangings and colourful holographs. Comfortable-looking chairs and elegantly designed tables were scattered about.
Sculptures, depicting a variety of exotic life-forms, stood around the room.
On the far side of the room, a ma.s.sive figure sat behind an enormous desk. It was another Ogron, the biggest, most brutal-looking Roz had ever seen. It wore a luxurious version of the usual Ogron dress. The shirt appeared to be silk rather than sack-cloth, and the jerkin was made of finely embroidered calfskin.
Most surprisingly of all, the Ogron was jabbing at the keyboard of an antiquated computer terminal with its long hairy fingers.
Well, an Ogron in silk was still an Ogron, thought Roz. The only way to deal with Ogrons was to dominate them if you lived long enough. A low-ranking species, mostly used as guards, bodyguards and jailers, they were used to obeying the voice of authority, if it was loud enough. She took a deep breath.
"Why you bring us here?" she shouted. "We good people, we not do bad things."
The Ogron rose and bowed. "My dear lady, I"m sure you wouldn"t dream of doing bad things. Do forgive me for keeping you waiting. Pressure of work, you know. Megacity is such a busy busy place. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Garshak, Chief of Police of Megacity." place. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Garshak, Chief of Police of Megacity."
It was a rich, resonant, almost plummy voice and Chris and Roz stood listening to it in silent astonishment.
Garshak waved at the Ogron by the door. "Chairs for our guests, you oaf. And fetch some refreshment."
The guard picked up a ma.s.sive armchair in each hand and slammed both chairs down before the desk. It retreated through the door and returned with a loaded tray which it placed carefully on the desk. It returned to its position by the door.
Roz saw that the tray contained a tall slender teapot surrounded by delicate cups. A number of plates held an a.s.sortment of elaborate little cakes and pastries.
Garshak reached for the teapot with a ma.s.sive hairy hand.
"Shall I be mother? Isn"t that what you say on Earth?"
Roz had never said any such thing, and didn"t intend to.
Dumbly she accepted a cup of herbal tea, and a plate of little cakes. She made a desperate attempt to regain the initiative.
"I insist on knowing why we have been brought here," she repeated. "What are the charges?"
Garshak took a delicate sip of tea and glanced at the monitor screen of the desk-computer. "Oh, I don"t know. How about "Impersonating a police officer" for a start? According to the deposition of Mr Relk..."
Chris swallowed a little cake and said indistinctly, "Not guilty, we never said we were police officers."
"Of course not," agreed Garshak. "You merely forced your way in, threatened and bullied the poor little fellow, and asked him a number of questions about matters that were none of your business. Naturally he a.s.sumed a.s.sumed you were the police." you were the police."
"Can"t help what people a.s.sume," said Roz smugly.