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Dejah managed an approving smile. “Of all Ves’s clients, Baron Umber more than anyone deserves the honorific title of patron. Ves knew it, too.”

Their host performed an odd little sideways bow in her direction. “You honor me with your confidence, my dear.” Straightening, he looked back at Jax. “You have other questions? Perhaps you would like to search my domicile for a murder weapon, or signs of Ves’s DNA?”

“No, no.” Jax waved a hand. “I believe what you’ve told us.” He looked toward the couch. “Even more, I believe what Dejah has said about you. Coming here, meeting you in person, seeing how you feel about the artist’s work, I’m confident you had nothing to do with his demise.” Leaning slightly to his right, he peered past their host. “You’re not alone here, are you?”

Pivoting, Umber gestured to where a figure stood behind a fold of arch. “Come out, my dear, and meet our guests. Dejah is here.”

The Vindalian female was notably larger than her mate, though not unattractive. While sexual dimorphism was common among humanoid species, it was usually the male who was larger. Usually, but not always. In this case, the female who emerged from concealment not only massed more than the Baron, she was half a dozen centimeters taller as well.

“This is Kirma, my wife,” the Baron informed the visitors.

The Baroness was casually dressed in a sweeping spinner-silk gown that clung to her form and did little to conceal her bulk. Jax found it somewhat startling. What looked bad on one variety of humanoid, he reflected, was often considered immensely flattering on another. Not knowing anything about the species, he could only assume that, given the clingy nature of her attire, Vindalians found size attractive.

In addition to the gown, she wore a string of lightly polished green stones around her neck. No astrogeologist, Jax didn’t recognize them. It was the only jewelry on her person. Given the Baron’s status, he concluded that she was either being deliberately modest or else had not had adequate time to prepare herself to greet visitors. His gaze drifted back to Dejah, sitting alone on the couch. She wore no jewelry and the most basic and functional of attire, but to Jax she outshone the noble’s mate by several orders of magnitude.

“Dejah has engaged this gentleman,” Umber was saying, “in the hope of finding who killed Ves.” Yet again he failed to mention the presence of I-Five. This time, thankfully, the droid kept his indignation to himself. Instead, he was studying the new arrival intently.

“Dear Ves.” Kirma Umber blinked rapidly, which Jax assumed to be a sign of anguish among her kind. “Who would murder a harmless artist?”

I-Five had kept silent about as long as he was constitutionally able. “A serious critic.”

Kirma glanced at him, the droid’s sarcasm apparently—and fortunately—lost on her. “Are you having any luck in your investigation …?”

“Jax Pavan. We’ve only just begun. We’re trying to build a picture of Ves’s last moments by interviewing those who were closest to him.” He nodded in Dejah’s direction. “Since you’re the artist’s primary collectors, we came here first.”

“My husband is the one who is enamored of the light sculptures. Though I can certainly appreciate the skill that went into their construction.”

“You’re not upset at the artist’s death?” I-Five asked.

“What a thing to say!” Kirma Umber’s extensive lashes flared. “Ves Volette was a fascinating, devoted, and kind sentient. If he had been a lowly fashioner of cheap tourist trinkets, I would have been equally as fond of him. Of course,” she added tersely, “being a machine, I don’t expect you to comprehend such feelings.”

“Of course not,” I-Five said drily. He went silent again, for which Jax was profoundly grateful.

Kirma turned to Jax. “Aren’t you duplicating the work of the police?”

“Supplementing.” Jax smiled. “My friends and I can work outside official channels. You never know what you may find there.”

“You can see how upset we both are,” the Baron said. “If there’s anything I can do to facilitate your investigation,