Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [90]
"Well . . . not immediately. I'll have a better set of questions after this morning's investigations are complete. Just don't go anywhere."
Her glance at him silently inquired, Am I under house arrest? "At some point, I have to go get my son Nikolai. He was staying overnight at a friend's home. He hasn't been told anything about this yet. I don't want to tell him over the comconsole, and I don't want him to hear it first on the news."
"That won't happen," said Tuomonen grimly. "Not yet, anyway. Though I expect I'll have the information services badgering us soon enough. Someone is bound to notice that the most boring ImpSec post on Komarr is suddenly boiling with activity."
"I must either go get him, or call and arrange for him to stay longer."
"Which would you prefer?" Miles put in before Tuomonen could say anything.
"I . . . if you are going to do the interrogation here, today, I'd rather wait till its over with to get Nikki. I'll have to explain to his friend's mother something of the situation, at least that Tien was . . . killed in an accident last night."
"Have you bugged her comconsoles?" Miles asked Tuomonen bluntly.
Tuomonen's look queried this revelation, but he cleared his throat, and said, "Yes. You should be aware, Madame Vorsoisson, that ImpSec will be monitoring all calls in and out of here for a few days."
She looked blankly at him. "Why?"
"There is the possibility that someone, either from Soudha's group or some other connection we haven't yet discovered, not yet realizing the Administrator is dead, might try to communicate."
She accepted this with a slightly dubious nod. "Thank you for warning me."
"Speaking of calls," Miles added, "please have one of your people bring me a secured vid-link here. I have a few calls to make myself."
"Will you be staying here, my lord?" asked Tuomonen.
"For a while. Till after your interrogation, and until Lord Auditor Vorthys gets downside, as he will surely wish to do. That's the first call I want to make."
"Ah. Of course."
Miles looked around. His seizure stimulator, its case, and his mouthguard were still lying where they'd been dropped a few hours ago. Miles pointed. "And if you please, could you have your lab check my medical gear for any sign of tampering, then return it to me."
Tuomonen's brows rose. "Do you suspect it, my lord?"
"It was just a horrible thought. But I think it's going to be a very bad idea to underestimate either the intelligence or the subtlety of our adversaries in this thing, eh?"
"Do you need it urgently?"
"No." Not anymore.
"The data packet Foscol left on Administrator Vorsoisson's person—have you had a chance to look at it?" Miles went on. He managed to avoid glancing at Madame Vorsoisson.
"Just a quick scan," said Tuomonen. He did look at Madame Vorsoisson, and away, spoiling Miles's effort at delicacy. Her lips thinned only a little. "I turned it over to the ImpSec financial analyst—a colonel, no less—that HQ sent out to take charge of the financial part of the investigation."
"Oh, good. I was going to ask if HQ had sent you relief troops yet."
"Yes, everything you requested. The engineering team arrived on site at the experiment station about an hour ago. The packet Foscol left seems to be documentation of all the financial transactions relating to the, um, payments made by Soudha's group to the Administrator. If it's not all lies, it's going to be an amazing help in sorting out the whole embezzlement part of the mess. Which is really very odd, when you think about it."
"Foscol clearly had no love for Vorsoisson, but surely everything that incriminates him, incriminates the Komarrans equally. Quite odd, yes." If only his brain hadn't been turned to pulsing oatmeal, Miles felt, he could follow out some line of logic from this. Later.
An ImpSec tech wearing black fatigues emerged from the back of the apartment. He carried a black box identical to—in fact, possibly the same as—the one which Tuomonen had used at Madame Radovas's, and said to his superior, "I've finished all the comconsoles, sir."
"Thank you, Corporal.