40. A Long Way Off Your Beat

Mangala | 30 July

Karl Schweda drove Vic back to the motel and told him he’d stop by with a list of empty properties in the morning.

‘I appreciate the help,’ Vic said.

‘I swore an oath to protect the people of this county,’ Karl said. ‘How I see it, Investigator Gayle, you are assisting me.’

The cold wind had strengthened; Vic kept his head down as he crossed the short distance from the Land Rover to the door of his room. When he switched on the light, the man sitting on the edge of the bed said, ‘I think you should stay right where you are.’

Vic recognised him from the Hotel California’s CCTV footage: white, athletic build, cropped hair. He was dressed in tan slacks and a blue denim shirt, the left sleeve torn off. His bare arm was in a sling fashioned from the knotted sleeve; the bandage above his elbow was spotted with blood. He was holding a pistol in his right hand, some kind of Colt knock-off. It was the colour of old soap and it was aimed at Vic’s chest.

‘So what should I call you?’ Vic said. ‘David Parsons? Or are you going to tell me your real name?’

The man smiled. ‘I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind.’

Vic ignored that. ‘The guys who shot you — did you hit any of them?’

The man’s eyes widened slightly. Gotcha.

Vic said, ‘The local police found a bunch of cartridge cases near the place where the body of my partner was found. And don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about.’

‘Before we get into that, I need you to lose your gun.’

The man seemed very calm, but he had sweated through his shirt and the pistol’s muzzle was making small circles.

Vic took two steps into the room. ‘Why don’t I show you my ID, prove I’m one of the good guys?’

‘First lose the gun,’ the man said, and raised his pistol, re-centring it on Vic. They were just two metres apart now.

Vic used his thumb and forefinger to pull his pistol from the slide holster on his belt, laid it on the floor. He said, ‘I have to unzip my jacket to reach my badge, so don’t shoot me, okay?’

The man’s smile was there and gone. ‘I’ll do my best.’

Vic skimmed his badge case at the man’s face. The man reflexively batted at it with his gun hand, and Vic stepped sideways and caught the man’s wrist and bent it up and back. The man half-rose from the bed as he fought against the pressure, but he was one-handed and off-balance, and Vic had better leverage. The man fell back on the bed and dropped the pistol. Vic kicked it under the bed and stepped back and scooped up his own gun.

The man stared at him, white-faced, breathing hard. ‘That was quite a risk you took.’

‘You weren’t going to shoot me. You came here because you need my help.’

The man picked up the badge case and flipped it open. ‘How long have you been on the job, Investigator Gayle?’

‘Just about all my life. Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’re here?’

‘Chief Inspector Adam Nevers, Alien Technology Investigation Squad,’ the man said. ‘I can’t show you any ID, so I’m afraid you’ll have to take my word for it.’

‘Because you’re travelling under a false name. Like the guy killed near the shuttle terminal. Your friend John Redway.’

Nevers didn’t show any surprise. ‘His real name was Ellis Sinclair.’

‘Was he a policeman too?’

‘We have both lost our partners, Investigator Gayle.’

Vic sat in the armchair by the window, the gun resting in his lap. It had been a long day and it didn’t look like it was going to be over any time soon. ‘My partner, Skip Williams, was the primary in the investigation into Ellis Sinclair’s murder. He came here because he was following the prime suspects, Cal McBride and Danny Drury. Yeah, I can see those names mean something to you. I know you were there when Skip was killed. So why don’t you tell me what went down?’

‘Before we get into that, Investigator Gayle, I think we should discuss how we can help each other.’

‘You think I’m going to help you?’

‘We’re both chasing after the same people. I know things you need to know, you have resources I lack…Of course we can help each other.’

Nevers had the same air of natural-born superiority as Danny Drury. Private education, Oxbridge, fast-track promotions, the unexamined assumption that foot soldiers like Vic would knuckle their foreheads and jump when he said jump. Well screw that.

Vic said, ‘You’re a long way off your beat, Chief Inspector. You’re wounded and shit out of luck, which is why you came to me. You need my help to find the bad guys, but I don’t need yours. I know this is about three stowaways who smuggled themselves here in a shipping container, and an Elder Culture site excavated a while back by Sky Edge Holdings. A company once owned by Cal McBride, now run by Danny Drury. The two of them had a set-to outside town, and whoever was left standing has gone downriver, to that site. So here’s how it is. If you tell me what you know, maybe we can help each other out. But if you don’t, I’ll have the local law lock you up.’

‘On what charge?’

‘To begin with, you’re an accessory to two murders. I’m sure I can turn up some other stuff. Threatening a police officer, possession of an illegal firearm…I guarantee that you won’t be going back to Earth with whatever it is you came here to find. You’ll be in a prison work gang, making roads or picking fruit, for the next twenty years.’

‘That’s an impressive threat,’ Nevers said.

‘If you think any part of it isn’t true, now’s your chance to tell me.’

In the silence, Vic could hear the wind hunting at the window behind him.

Nevers said, ‘You don’t know who killed your partner, do you?’

‘I know it was either Cal McBride or Danny Drury. And I know where I can find them.’

‘I’ll give you an eyewitness statement, and I’ll help you catch them, too.’

‘You’re still trying to make a deal, but you can’t.’

‘I’m talking as one police officer to another. As someone who’s also lost his partner.’

‘Don’t you try to use that against me.’

‘We both want the same thing.’

‘I won’t bargain over my partner’s body to get it.’

Nevers didn’t say anything.

‘I want to do this the right way,’ Vic said. ‘So what I’m going to do now is call my friend Karl Schweda. The constable of this county. This mess has landed in his lap, and he deserves to know about it. We’ll get your gunshot wound treated, and you can tell us everything you know. The whole sorry story from beginning to end. And then, and only then, I’ll think about whether I need your help.’

‘That’s the best you can do?’

‘As far as you’re concerned? That’s it. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to tell me anything and you can stay here, in jail. Karl’s a good guy. I’m sure he’ll make you comfortable.’

‘Where you might leave me anyway, even if I tell you everything.’

‘It’s up to you. But, one police officer to another, I think you know that telling me everything is the right thing to do.’

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