Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [56]
Obviously, she did not believe Greyhorse was a viable murder suspect. The captain couldn’t exactly blame her.
“What about Simenon?” asked Data, who had remained silent almost from the time he sat down. No surprise, thought Picard. Matters of motivation were not exactly the android’s specialty.
“He would certainly have the expertise,” said Troi. “But does he have a motive?”
“The Gnalish and the Daa’Vit have never been best of friends,” Beverly remarked. “I remember Jack expressing some misgivings about Morgen and Simenon serving together.”
The captain looked at her. It was the first time she’d brought up Jack’s name since the Stargazer contingent came aboard.
“True,” he said. “On the other hand, there was never any violence between the two peoples—thanks to Federation intervention. Nor did those misgivings ever become material. In fact, Morgen and Simenon always had a healthy respect for each other.”
“What about the Daa’Vit angle?” suggested Riker. He looked at Picard. “We know that Morgen has opposition at home. Would his political enemies go so far as to hire an assassin?”
The captain mulled it over. “I suppose it is possible,” he conceded. “And the Daa’Vit are sufficiently spread out among the Federation for any one of our guests to have had contact with them.”
Riker looked to the intercom grid in the ceiling. “Computer—has anyone in Captain Morgen’s escort been to Daa’V?”
The computer responded instantly in a pleasant female voice. “Captain Ben Zoma, Commander Cadwallader, and Chief Joseph visited Daa’V one year ago on the Lexington.”
“Their purpose?” asked the first officer.
“To deliver medicines requested by the Daa’Vit government.”
Picard nodded. Pug on Daa’V, he thought. How could he help but read into the situation? Bitterness often made a man vulnerable. And if the proper incentive was offered into the bargain…
No. The captain would not prejudge Joseph any more than he would Idun. Pug had served him well on the Stargazer; he deserved better.
And yet, he could not allow his feelings to get in the way of his duty. Picard cleared his throat.
“I must say,” he told the others, “it is extremely difficult for me to believe that one of my former officers is capable of murder. I would have trusted any one of them with my life—exactly as I would trust one of you.” He considered the device on the table. “But one cannot ignore the facts. We have a dangerous individual aboard—and we must find that individual. Quickly—before he or she can strike again.”
“I’ll organize the security effort,” said Riker. “We’ll have each of them watched around the clock.”
“Good, Number One. But be discreet. Security personnel are not to discuss the matter in public—not even among themselves.” He turned to Geordi and then to Crusher. “That goes for engineering and medical personnel as well. I do not wish to put the assassin on guard.”
Assassin. The word seemed so out of place here on the Enterprise.
“Counselor Troi,” he said, addressing the empath in her turn. “Keep an eye on our visitors. Let me know if you sense any duplicity in them.”
Troi nodded. “Aye, sir.”
“In some cases, Counselor, you may have to seek them out. We may not have the time to carry on a passive investigation.”
She nodded again.
Picard turned to the ship’s doctor. “I trust Worf will be up and about soon?”
“I want to keep him—and Morgen as well—for observation overnight. Then they’re all yours. But I wouldn’t ask Worf to take on anything physically strenuous—not for a couple of days anyway.”
That was fine with the captain. What he needed now was the Klingon’s mind—his training in protecting the ship and its people from calculated harm.
“That will have to do,” he said. “When you release him, send him directly to me.”
Crusher promised that she would do that.
Morgen shook his head, stalking from one end of the captain’s ready room to the other. Dr. Crusher had done a good job; Picard would never have noticed his friend’s limp if he hadn’t been looking for it. “It is out of the question.”
Sitting behind his