The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [37]
“The salvage effort alone will bankrupt me.
All it brings me is the trouble of selling Maarc’s ship for scrap metal and the exorbitant expense of the crew’s funeral.”
“I think I’ve met his brother,” said Picard softly. “Perhaps we should leave before—” “Ah ha!” The Ferengi was staring directly at them. “The captain of the Enterprise has come to laugh at my defeat.”
“Too late, Jean-Luc,” said Miyakawa, as the bantamweight Ferengi bore down upon them as fast as his unsteady legs could carry him. His domed head and flaring ears had flushed a deep red from too much drink and an excess of rage.
“You were there, thief!” His finger jabbed repeatedly at Picard’s chest. “Return what is rightfully mine, what you stole from my brother!”
Before Picard could form a reply, a dark hand settled on the Ferengi’s shoulder. The woman’s grip was firm enough to choke off any further accusations.
“DaiMon Tork,” she said in a low voice. “I prefer my customers to conduct their private business with greater discretion and decorum.”
So this was Camenae.
Then the bar owner turned her attention to Picard, and he was struck by the intensity of her gaze. There was a familiar quality to her face that he couldn’t quite place.
“Welcome to the Due or Die, Captain Picard. My apologies for the disturbance.”
The Ferengi uttered a strangled squeak of protest.
“DaiMon Tork,” said Picard in a voice loud enough to carry to all corners of the bar.
“You have my word that we took nothing that belonged to the Ferengi off that ship.”
Camenae’s lips curved into a smile, and she released her hold on Tork.
“Just as I thought,” the DaiMon groaned, collapsing onto the floor. He rubbed gingerly at his sore shoulder. “Scrap metal and funeral expenses.”
With a snap of her fingers, Camenae signaled Tork’s companions to carry him away, and they scurried forward to do her bidding.
The sense of familiarity deepened. “Have we met before?”
“I’m disappointed, Captain Picard. I expected a more original opening line from you.”
En garde.
Perhaps she would respond to a direct approach. “Commander Miyakawa tells me you’re in the information business. I’d like to become one of your customers.”
“That’s a much better tactic,” she said.
“Unfortunately, Starfleet doesn’t have an account with me, and I’m not accepting new clients at the moment. If you like, I’ll put you on my waiting list.”
Lunge and parry.
“At the very least,” said Picard, “I’d like the opportunity to talk to you in private … about Thomas Grede.”
Camenae shook her head gently.
“I have nothing to say to you that can’t be discussed right here in the middle of the Due or Die. Private meetings with Starfleet officers are bad for my business reputation.” Touch`e. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Captain, I must get back to work.”
She glided away.
The memory of Camenae’s smoky eyes haunted Picard all the way back to the Enterprise. However, standing in his brightly illuminated ready room, Picard realized that his impressions of the Due or Die and its elusive owner would be impossible to convey in words. He restricted himself to relating the bare bones of his experience to his first officer.
“That’s it?” Riker rocked back in his chair so he could look Picard in the eye. “Grede was the victim of an accidental death under unknown circumstances?”
Picard’s hands gripped the back of his desk chair. He could not bring himself to sit down since at any moment he should receive a call that would pull him away. “I’m not comfortable with Miyakawa’s preliminary ruling either. However, I have a better appreciation for the difficulties of her situation now that I’ve actually visited Starbase 193.
The Federation’s control of this area is relatively recent and definitely precarious.”
Riker held up one hand and ticked off the points of contention across his fingertips. “So the Orions can’t be brought to justice because they were killed by the Ferengi, and the communications officer who leaked the information about the Heart has conveniently died so he can’t be charged, and the case of the murder of ten Vulcans is now closed.