Cryoburn - Lois McMaster Bujold [86]
Roic's very firm tone of voice discouraged Miles from descanting on diplomatic immunity. He continued, "Now she's gone off. To call the police, I'm guessing. What did you two do to the fellow?"
Nothing was plainly not the right answer. "I'm not sure," Miles said. "Well, withdraw for now and rendezvous with Johannes."
"Understood."
Miles turned to Raven. "All right, we have maybe five minutes to go over the place here. You take downstairs, I'll take up."
"What are we looking for?"
"Whatever he's hiding."
Upstairs held a bedroom, a bedroom-turned-office, and a bathroom. An endearingly tame, by galactic standards, porn collection in the bedroom was out in plain sight, suggesting Leiber did not have a girlfriend at present. The closets held clothes and shoes, and a residue of old sporting equipment. Miles was just eyeing the comconsole in the next room in frustration-he likely didn't have time for a stealth download before the locals arrived, and besides the ImpSec devices that made such tasks a snap were back at the consulate-when Raven's voice came from his wristcom.
"Miles?"
"We've got to fly, Raven-I expect the police are on their way by now."
"I don't think he'll have called them, actually." An arresting remark, for all that it was delivered in an amused drawl.
"What have you found down there?"
"Come look."
Miles made his way down the stairs with rather more care than he'd pelted up them, collecting his cane on the way.
The lowest level-it was not quite a basement-of Leiber's townhouse was much as one might expect: a laundry area, the mechanical and electrical guts of the dwelling, a larger room left half-finished for dirty projects or whatever were the owner's needs. Leiber's need seemed to be for a great deal of junk stowage. Raven stood between a dusty exercise machine and a long shape covered with an old bedspread.
"Tah-dah!" he cried, and whisked off the bedspread. Revealing a portable cryochamber. Plugged into the house power. Running, and apparently occupied.
"Do we know what we're both thinking?" asked Raven.
"Yeah," said Miles, with proper admiration. "Although . . . could it be it normal to keep frozen people in your basement? Around here, I mean?"
"Don't know," said Raven, running his hands over the machine in a search for identifying marks. "You'd have to ask Johannes, or Vorlynkin. Or Jin. What I wonder is how he ever got it in here."
"Dark of night, at a guess."
"No, I mean how he got it down the stairs. It would never make the turn. There has to be-ah, garage door. That's better." Raven climbed over some junk, opened it, and stuck his head through. "Ooh, nice float bike."
Miles checked underneath the cryochamber. It was a less expensive model, without a built-in float pallet, but it was propped up on stacks of miscellaneous bricks, concrete blocks, and a wedge of squashed flimsies-the top one seemed to be a scientific paper-revealing where a float pallet had been slid out from underneath. No sign of the pallet in the other piles.
He raised his wristcom. "Johannes?"
"I just picked up Roic, sir," Johannes returned at once. "Should we swing around to get you now?"
"One question, first. Do you still have the float pallet on board that we used the other day?"
"Yes, sorry, I haven't had time to return it to the rental place yet."
"Excellent. Come around to the back of the row. There will be a sunken garage entry. We'll meet you there. I have some heavy lifting for you."
"On our way."
Raven raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that theft? Breaking and entering?"
"No, the homeowner let us in. Breaking and exiting, maybe. If it's theft, I'm guessing it's the second time around for this item. And while it's not true that you can't cheat an honest man, crooked men are less likely to complain to the authorities, afterward. I don't think Leiber will tell anyone." He went on, still peering underneath, "Did