The Deadly Hunter

8

Obi-Wan had faced death before. He never got used to it. The way a spirit could fill a space, the life energy behind the eyes, and then… nothing.

“What happened?” Qui-Gon demanded.

“I don’t know,” Didi said, mopping his face with a napkin. “The Coruscant security force contacted me. They know Fligh is a friend. He was found in one of the alleyways around the Senate. The Lane of All Worlds is where he is lying like an animal.” Perspiration shone on Didi’s face. “Do you think this has anything to do with me?” he asked. His face betrayed how fearful he was to hear the answer.

“I’m afraid I do,” Qui-Gon said grimly. “We’d better talk to the security forces. Come on, Didi.”

“Me?” Didi squeaked. “Why do I have to go?”

“Because I think you should remain with us at all times now,” Qui-Gon said. “You aren’t safe here.”

“But I am!” Didi protested. “Astri will lock the front door so no other customers come. And this fancy party will go on for hours. No one will try to attack me while such distinguished guests are here. And besides,” he added in a low tone, “I’m too afraid and sad to move right now. I could not look upon my dead friend’s body. I am sorry.”

Qui-Gon exchanged a glance with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan hoped he was not going to suggest that he stay here with Didi while Qui-Gon investigated Fligh’s death. He did not want to stay behind to baby-sit Didi when there was work to do.

“All right,” Qui-Gon said reluctantly. “This shouldn’t take very long. Make sure every door and window is fastened tight, Didi. This bounty hunter can get through very small spaces.”

Didi nodded vigorously. “I have done so already, but I will double-check.”

“We’ll return soon,” Qui-Gon said. “We’ll knock at the back door. I don’t want to spoil Astri’s big evening.”

“So considerate of you, Qui-Gon,” Didi said fervently. “None of us want to spoil things for Astri. I will wait here. Can you… can you make sure that Fligh is… taken care of?” Didi’s eyes filled with tears. “Tell the security forces that I will pay for the funeral. I will pay for everything.”

Qui-Gon put a hand on Didi’s shoulder. “This is not your fault, my friend.”

“I hear your words,” Didi whispered. “Yet I do not feel them.”

Qui-Gon checked the doors and windows from the outside before they headed off. He did not trust the scattered Astri to remember to bolt the door. But everything was locked up tight.

It was fully dark when Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan arrived at the Lane of All Worlds. There was no moon, and the glare of the glow lamps threw harsh shadows.

The Coruscant security forces in their navy uniforms milled around Fligh’s fallen body, which was covered by a tarp.

“May I look?” Qui-Gon asked the officer in charge. His nameplate read CAPTAIN YUR T’AUG. He was a stocky Bothan with a flowing beard and glossy dark hair that hung to his shoulders.

The captain frowned, but all officers in the security force knew that Jedi requests must be honored.

“All right,” Captain Yur T’aug said. “Not a pleasant sight, though.”

“Stay here, Padawan,” Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan. This order Obi-Wan was glad to obey. He did not want to see Fligh’s body. He wanted to remember Fligh alive.

He watched as Qui-Gon, his back to him, crouched to lift a corner of the tarp. Although Qui-Gon did not flinch or shudder, Obi-Wan knew the sight had distressed him. There was something about how his Master did not move for several seconds, how his hand dropped the tarp with great gentleness.

Obi-Wan turned away with a shudder. Around the body, officers went about the business of death, tagging various items, searching the ground with glow rods, entering information in their data pads, talking in groups. It could be any being lying on that cold stone walkway. Fligh had ceased to matter. Only the manner of his death was important.

Obi-Wan looked up at the dark sky. Stars glittered with edges that looked hard enough to cut. Already he felt at times that he had seen too much death and cruelty. How did Qui-Gon, who had seen so much more, feel? It was the Jedi’s job to meet such things. To help. The helping was easy compared to this.

Will I ever get used to death? Obi-Wan wondered.

Obi-Wan saw something glitter in the dim shadows. He walked closer. It was a bright green stone. He leaned down to study it and realized it was Fligh’s prosthetic eye. It must have rolled away from the body. He pointed it out to Qui-Gon, who nodded.

Qui-Gon showed it to Captain Yur T’aug. “It belonged to the victim,” he said.

The captain crouched to examine it. “Sergeant!” he called. “Tag this item.”

Another officer scurried over with a specimen bag and carefully picked up the eye with a tweezer device.

“What was the cause of death?” Qui-Gon asked quietly.

“Strangulation, we believe,” Captain Yur T’aug said shortly.

“I saw the marks,” Qui-Gon said. “It seems like a slender cord of some kind. Not hands.” The captain nodded.

“And the unusual… ah, pallor?” Qui-Gon asked.

“The body was drained of blood,” Captain Yur T’aug said. “He was killed elsewhere and then dropped off here.”

Obi-Wan looked back at the tarp and shuddered again.

Qui-Gon’s voice was calm. “Any suspects?”

The captain sighed, tapping his comlink with an impatient finger. “I should be investigating, not filling you in. You can read the report when I am done.”

Qui-Gon did not show his impatience, but Obi-Wan could feel it. “I do not have time to read your report,” he said, his voice as brittle as ice.

Captain Yur T’aug hesitated, then said, “No suspects yet. Nobody saw anything. But we know this Fligh character. He’s a well-known informant and petty thief. Could have a hundred enemies. Not to mention that he owes money all over town. I hear he has a major debt to the Tech Raiders.”

Qui-Gon studied the officer for a moment. “There is something else,” he said.

“This is not the first body we’ve found drained of blood,” Captain Yur T’aug said hesitantly. “Drifters, lowlifes—beings no one would miss. Over the past year, there have been a half dozen. Maybe more we haven’t found. Who knows? Coruscant can be a hard world. Many transients come here to scrounge a living.”

“If this is the case, the killer is most likely not someone Fligh owed money to,” Qui-Gon said.

Captain Yur T’aug shrugged. “Or else the killer copied the method to throw us off the track. It’s our job to find out.”

“You might want to check into a female bounty hunter,” Qui-Gon said. “She’s a Sorussian who might have had reason to dispose of Fligh. She’s been staying at the Soft Landings Inn.”

“Sure,” Captain Yur T’aug said. “Thanks for the tip.” His lack of interest was obvious.

“Good luck to you,” Qui-Gon said. “You should know that Didi Oddo will pay for the funeral. Fligh was not friendless. He will be missed.”

Qui-Gon motioned to Obi-Wan, and they walked past the officers back onto the main walkway that curved around the Senate.

“Are you all right, Padawan?” Qui-Gon asked him.

“Fligh wasn’t my friend,” Obi-Wan said. “I only spent a few minutes with him. There was something likeable about him, but I can’t say that I liked him. Yet I feel almost as sad as Didi.”

“I do as well,” Qui-Gon said.

They walked a few steps in silence. “Do you ever get used to death?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No,” Qui-Gon said. “That is how it should be.”

“Why do you think Fligh was killed?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think that he knew something important but didn’t realize it, like Didi?”

“Perhaps,” Qui-Gon said. “And remember that Fligh said he would try to help Didi. I wonder if he did try. No doubt it would be easy for him to discover where the bounty hunter was lodging.”

“You think that is what happened?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Let us swing by the inn on the way back to the café,” Qui-Gon suggested. “We should have another talk with this bounty hunter.”

They walked quickly through the streets until they reached the Soft Landings Inn. This time the front door was slightly ajar, so they were able to walk in without ringing the innkeeper. They quickly climbed the stairs to the third level. Qui-Gon knocked on the door, and it swung open. The room was empty.

“She’s gone.” The Togorian stood behind them with a bucket and vibro-mop. “Checked out. I have to clean. Get out of my way.”

They retreated down the stairs. “I don’t like this,” Qui-Gon murmured. “Let’s get back to Didi’s.”

They quickened their pace and began to run. Didi’s wasn’t far.

They swung around the corner. Ahead was the café. There was no spill of light from the windows, and the front door was shut tight.

“We are too late,” Qui-Gon said.