Miles Errant - Lois McMaster Bujold [375]
"Oh, and about your father, I should mention—no, maybe that had better wait." Elena eyed him in worry.
"What about—" He was interrupted by a buzz from the comm link Iverson had given him as a courtesy. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Admiral Naismith, Baron Fell is here at the entrance. With a double-squad. He, ah . . . says he's here to collect his deceased half-brother's body, as next-of-kin."
Miles whistled soundlessly, and grinned. "Is he, now? Well. Tell you what. Let him come inside, with one bodyguard. And we'll talk. He may know something. Don't let his squad in yet, though."
"Do you think that's wise?"
How the hell should I know? "Sure."
In a few minutes, Baron Fell himself puffed in, escorted by one of Iverson's rental troopers and flanked by a big green-clad guard. Baron's Fell's round face was slightly pinker than usual with the exertion, otherwise he was the same plump, grandfatherly figure as ever, exuding the usual dangerously deceptive good cheer.
"Baron Fell." Miles nodded. "How good to see you again."
Fell nodded back. "Admiral. Yes, I imagine everything looks good to you just now. So, it really was you the Bharaputran sniper shot. Your clone-twin did an excellent job of pretending to be you, afterward, I must say, much to the confusion of an already very confused situation."
Argh! "Yes. And, ah, what brings you here?"
"Trade," stated Fell, Jacksonian short-hand for, You first.
Miles nodded. "The late Baron Ryoval had me brought me here in a lightflyer by two of his erstwhile bodyguards. We found things much as you see them. I, um, neutralized them at my first opportunity. How I came to be in their hands is a more complicated story." Meaning, That's all you get till I get some.
"There are some extraordinary rumors starting to circulate about my dear departed—he is departed, I trust?"
"Oh, yes. You can see in a moment."
"Thank you. My dear departed half-brother's death. I had one first-hand."
A former Ryoval employee from here fled directly to him as an informant. Right. "I hope his virtue was rewarded."
"It will be, as soon as I ascertain he was telling the truth."
"Well. Why don't you come look." He had to get up out of the station chair. He marshaled the effort with difficulty, and led the Baron into the living room, the House Fell bodyguard and the Dendarii following.
The big bodyguard shot a worried glance at Sergeant Taura, looming over him; she smiled back, her fangs gleaming. "Hi, there. You're kinda cute, you know?" she told him. He recoiled, and sidled closer to his master.
Fell hurried to the body, knelt by its right side, and held up the severed wrist. He hissed with disappointment. "Who has done this?"
"We don't know yet," said Miles. "That's how I found him."
"Exactly?" Fell shot him a sharp glance.
"Yes."
Fell traced the black holes across the corpse's forehead. "Whoever did this, knew what he was doing. I want to find the assassin."
"To . . . avenge your brother's death?" Elena asked cautiously.
"No. To offer him a job!" Fell laughed, a booming, jolly sound. "Do you realize how many people have been trying, for how many years, to accomplish this?"
"I've an idea," said Miles. "If you can help—"
In the next room, Ryoval's half-butchered comconsole chimed.
Fell looked up, eyes intent. "No one can call in here without the code-key," he stated, and heaved to his feet. Miles barely beat him back into the study, and slid into the station chair.
He activated the vid plate. "Yes?" And almost fell out of his seat again.
Mark's puffy face formed above the vid plate. He looked as if he'd just come out of a shower, face scrubbed, hair wet and slicked back. He was wearing gray knits like Miles's. Blue bruises, going greenish-yellow around the edges, made what skin Miles could see look like a patch-work quilt, but both eyes were open and very bright. His ears were still on. "Ah," he said cheerfully, "there you are. I thought you might be. Have you figured out who you are yet?"