Infinity Beach - Jack McDevitt [95]
He leaned forward, opened a cabinet drawer, and took out a viewing lens. He held it over the images. “You really think so?” he said. The moroseness which had marked the conversation to this point was swept away by a wave of excitement.
“Yes. I think so. There’s no proof. Probably not even strong evidence. But yes, I think it happened.”
His eyes widened as he gazed at the mural. “Why,” he said, “that’s Emily.”
The Conciliar Medal of Valor glittered in the midday sun. Tora Kane held out her hand, took it from Kim, and studied it. She read her father’s name from the obverse. “Where did you get it?” she asked.
“In the Severin Valley.”
Tora’s mood visibly darkened. “You can’t leave it alone, can you?”
“I thought you’d want to have it.”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
They were standing on the beach at Wheeling Bay, at the same point where they’d talked before. Kim’s hands were pushed into her jacket pockets. The tide was out, and a few gulls patrolled the wet sand. “It depends on what else you have to tell me. When you’re done with all this poking around, are you going to be making accusations against my father?”
“Do you think he did anything wrong?”
“Look, Kim—” Her teeth bit down on the name. “Markis wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a short temper, and he wasn’t very tactful, and sometimes he forgot he had a daughter. But he was essentially a decent man, and I know he wouldn’t have been mixed up in anything ugly.”
“Did you ever see the inside of the villa?”
“The one in the valley? Sure.”
“Were you inside it at any time after the Mount Hope explosion?”
“Yes,” she said. “I visited my father from time to time. I lived there while I was growing up. When I came of age, my parents let the marriage lapse. But I went back when I could.”
“May I ask when that was?”
“I left the villa in 569. After that I visited occasionally, once or twice a year.”
“Did you happen to notice whether there was a mural in the den?”
“In the den? No, not that I recall.”
“Would you have seen it if there had been?”
“Of course. Listen, what’s this about?”
“There’s a mural there now.”
“So what?”
“The woman in it is my sister.”
“Oh.” She gazed briefly into the sun. “Well. It’s hard for me to see what inference can be drawn from that.”
“Dr. Kane, my understanding is that your father sealed off part of the house after the last Hunter mission. Did you know anything about that?”
“Part of the house?”
“The den.”
“That was his private space. There was nothing unusual about that.”
“Did you have access?”
Kim could see her considering her answer. “No,” she said at last. “Not in the later years. He kept it locked.”
“Did he say why?”
“No. I really didn’t concern myself with it. And I don’t see what business any of this is of yours anyway.”
Kim nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
“Now if you don’t mind—”
“I’m sorry,” said Kim. “Listen, I know you don’t approve of me very much.”
Tora remained silent.
“For what it’s worth, I admire your father.”
“Thanks.”
“I don’t think you need fear for his reputation.”
Tora took a deep breath and turned away.
Kim watched her walk. She was reasonably sure she believed what she had just said.
She had an afternoon engagement next day at the Mariners’ Club, which had nothing whatever to do with boating, but was rather a group of older citizens. The name referred to the members’ view of themselves as persons who had sailed through life, and who had now arrived at safe harbor, and who planned on enjoying the time they had left.
The club seal, displayed on a banner, depicted an anchor and five stars, one for each of the club’s guiding principles, and its motto Keep the Wind at Your Back. Kim had taken time to read the guiding principles and she wove them into her remarks. They were mundane feel-good truisms, like Always walk in the surf, and The only real failure is failing to try.
The Institute is a lot like the Mariners, she told them. “It’s about stretching horizons and splashing around in the cosmos. And