Home: Murder By Earthlight -- 14/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
Only as she turned to push the door open, she heard the faintest scuff of a shoe on the carpet behind her and spun. The bathroom door was now open and, as she turned, bringing her hand light up, for a bare instant, the light flashed across a face as a man rushed at her, knocking her to the floor. There was a scrape as her door was wrenched open and a dark body hurtled through. Then he was gone.
Lori staggered to her feet and ran to the door, but whoever it had been had vanished. Instantly, she turned to look at the chair where she had dropped her purse and Edgar Johnson's satchel but both items were still in evidence. The intruder either hadn't seen the satchel or hadn't known its significance.
Whoever he had been had evidently been hiding in the bathroom, Lori thought -- but why? The only reason she could think of was that he must have been searching the room and had heard her opening the door, but why would anyone search her room? -- Unless, she thought, Talbot Grey -- or someone -- thought that she and Clark had the stolen information. Only that hadn't been Talbot Grey. She had caught only a glimpse of the face, not enough to identify it with any certainty, but it most definitely hadn't been Talbot Grey.
She looked again at the door. Probably she wasn't in any danger, but there was no way under the...Earth that she was going to stay in here without locking that door. She pushed it shut with one hand and fastened the chain lock, trying not to disturb any possible fingerprints and then turned to make her way across the room to the bathroom and stepped within.
There was something in the tub, a dark shadow in the shadowy room. Lori's breath caught and she flashed her hand light over it, already knowing what she would find.
Talbot Grey was huddled in the tub, but he wasn't moving. He was very dead, his throat cut from ear to ear.
**********
And now, Part 14:
The wrist talker on Clark's wrist beeped the tone that meant that Lori was calling him. He hadn't heard the peculiar ultrasonic tone from her earring alarm so it wasn't an emergency, but the fact that she was calling him at all while she knew he was operating as Superman meant that it was urgent. He lifted the device to his lips. "Superman."
"Superman, I need you right away." Lori's voice had a telltale quiver that he could tell that she was fighting to control. "I'm in Clark's and my hotel room."
"What's wrong?" he demanded sharply.
"Talbot Grey is dead in our bathtub," she said. "Please come quickly."
In a split instant, he was in the hallway outside the hotel room. He knocked sharply.
At once the lock clicked and the door slid open. Lori stood there, her face very pale in the illumination of her handlight. "Superman!" Her voice trembled. "Come in quick!"
He stepped inside and she slid the door shut, noticeably careful not to touch the manual handle. He looked her up and down with his enhanced vision and let out his breath when he saw that she was unhurt. He put his arms around her and realized that she was shaking. "Are you all right?"
She nodded against his chest. He consciously made his racing heart slow down, looked over her head into the bathroom and winced at the sight that met his eyes. Talbot Grey was certainly dead and blood was spattered everywhere. "What happened?"
"After you left, I decided the best thing I could do was check the Lost and Found departments at all the places Johnson had been -- and I found the bag," she explained. "It was at Heinlein's Cave. Then I came back here."
"Where's the bag?"
"Behind you on the chair," Lori said. "I haven't opened it. I figured I'd better wait until I had an unimpeachable witness for that. Anyway, a bellboy walked me down to the room, and I came in here. There was somebody here -- I didn't get a good look at him. He rushed at me and knocked me down and ran out. He'd been hiding in the bathroom, so I went to see if he'd left any clues about himself, and I saw Talbot."
"Did you touch anything?"
She shook her head. "No. Just the door to the hall, and I was careful not to touch it where he did."
"Good." He looked at her sharply and abruptly pushed her to a seat on the foot of their bed. "Sit down, honey. You look pretty shaken up."
"Well, I don't usually find acquaintances with their throats cut in my hotel bathroom," Lori said with an attempt at a smile. "What do we do now?"
"I'd say Superman had better call Hotel Security," he said, "and the police."
"Clark had better have an alibi, just in case," Lori said. "He doesn't, right now."
"Sure he does," Clark said. "He was across town a few minutes ago, when I pulled a Moon bike out from under somebody's car. I can testify to that, and Zeb will be perfectly willing to testify that Clark was present when he and I were cleaning up the mess in Shepherd Plaza an hour ago. That should pretty much cover it. Tal hasn't been dead for more than ten minutes at the most. He's still warm." He saw her shudder. "Sorry, honey. I didn't mean to --"
She drew a deep breath and he could see her trying to take control of herself. "It's all right. You'd better go ahead and call them."
Clark raised his wrist talker to his lips. "Hotel Security. This is Superman."
**********
It didn't take Clark long to realize that Hotel Security wasn't going to be of much use. The officer in charge had a stunned look on his face and his assistant seemed incapable of doing more than wringing his hands and muttering under his breath. Clark had to forcibly restrain him from entering the bathroom and disturbing the crime scene before the police arrived. Through it all, Lori sat still on the foot of the bed, watching the confusion in silence.
The police arrived fifteen minutes later, a group headed by Detective Brown: the same police detective to whom they had spoken shortly after their discovery of Edgar Johnson's body, accompanied by a silent man with some sort of recording equipment. He surveyed the scene of the murder, in the illumination of several battery-powered floodlights, with an impassive expression and then turned to Clark, standing with his arms folded and his best heroically stern expression on his face. "What happened?" he inquired.
Clark inclined his head at Lori. "Ms. Lyons found him," he said. "She and I have worked together in the past and she knew I was in Luna City, so she called me."
Brown turned to Lori. "Ms. Lyons. This is the second murder you've discovered in two days. I don't believe in that kind of coincidence."
"Neither do I," Lori said.
"Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"All right," Lori said. She took a deep breath and began to speak, recounting what she had told Clark a short time before, her glance occasionally straying toward the sounds of the movement and muttered conversation of the men in the other room as they did whatever was necessary to gather evidence at the crime scene. When she finished, Brown didn't speak for several seconds.
"Why didn't you mention Johnson's bag before?" he inquired.
"We didn't know about it at the time," Lori said. "It was only later that we found out that it hadn't turned up."
"How did you discover that?"
"Clark and I saw Edgar Johnson when he checked in," Lori said. "Clark has an eidetic memory and saw the bags. Later, we discovered how many bags had been found, and that there was only one satchel. That meant that one was missing, and we started trying to figure out where it might be." She nodded at the satchel, lying on the chair. "I intended to bring it to you after the power was restored."
"And how did you find out how many pieces of luggage had been found?"
Lori glanced at Clark. "Someone in a position to know told me."
"Who?"
"I'm afraid that's confidential. I wouldn't have published it in any case."
Brown rolled his eyes. "Reporters. All right, let's hear the last part again. You say you got back to the hotel --"
"I came down to the lobby and talked to the desk clerk -- Gerard Patterson. I asked him if someone could walk me to my room. He asked a bellboy named Joey to walk me down."
"Joey?" Brown asked sharply. "You didn't mention who it was last time. What was his last name?"
"He said I couldn't pronounce it. He's an older man, and he told me he's a former policeman," Lori said.
Brown nodded. "All right," he said. "I know who he is. So then what happened?"
"I opened the door to the room, and stepped in here," Lori said. "Something struck me as wrong. I really can't say why, but I decided to wait in the hall until the lights came back on. But before I could leave, somebody rushed at me, knocked me down and ran out. I got up and went after him, but he was already gone. He'd come out of the bathroom, so I went to look and saw Mr. Grey." She shuddered slightly. "That was when I called Superman."
"Where is your husband?" Brown asked, casually, with apparent disinterest.
"He was across the city where I was working," Clark said. "That was just before Ms. Lyons called me."
"Could he have gotten from here to where you saw him in time to have had anything to do with this?" Brown asked.
Clark shook his head. "No normal human could have made it from here to the location where he was that fast," he said. "Besides, he'd been there for at least fifteen minutes. Grey hasn't been dead more than half an hour."
Brown nodded. "All right; I'll take your word for it," he said. "So do you have any idea, Ms. Lyons, why someone would murder this man in your room? I'll even take wild speculation, since you apparently are involved in this thing, somehow."
Lori bit her lip. "Not really," she said. "We told you, after we found Johnson's body, that Johnson and a partner may have been trying to frame a friend of ours for the theft of new technology from her place of employment, and that partner might have murdered Johnson to get rid of a witness." She paused. "We think Talbot Grey may have been that partner, but I have no idea who might have murdered him, unless --" She broke off, frowning. "Clark and I have someone tracing Tal's activities just before he came to Luna City," she said. "We'll let you know what we find out when we get the report, if you want."
"I certainly do," Brown said, "and I'll have a statement for you to sign later. But 'unless' what?"
"I was just thinking," Lori said. "Stephanie Brooke and Talbot were on the Rainbow Caverns tour, together, when the meteor hit. Clark and I were there at the same time -- but the person that ran at me here was a man, so I don't see how it could have been her."
"We'll have to speak with Ms. Brooke. Can you describe this intruder?"
Lori shook her head. "Not really. I only caught a glimpse of him. He was taller than me. He charged at me out of the dark, and my light flashed across his face, but it was awfully quick."
"Would you recognize him if you saw him again?"
Lori shook her head again. "I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe. It was over pretty fast."
Brown got to his feet. "All right. We'll get this written up and you can sign it later. I'll expect you to come by the Precinct this evening."
Lori gave him a strained smile. "Loonies have the strangest language. How can it be evening when it's day most of the time?"
Detective Brown raised an eyebrow and Clark was certain he was trying to hide a smile. "I just live here, Ms. Lyons. I didn't make up the rules -- but I can't imagine it getting dark every 24 hours. That seems pretty alien to me."
"I guess it would," Lori said. "No offence, Detective."
"None taken," Brown assured her. "I'm sure this all seems very strange to you, but you seem to have adapted to Luna City pretty well for a --"
"For a groundhog," Lori said with a faint smile.
"Well, yes. And I have to take into account that Superman trusts you."
"So does Eclipse," Clark said. "Ms. Lyons is an old friend of mine."
"Exactly," Brown said, with a respectful nod to Clark. "I trust you'll bring anything else you find to my attention."
Lori nodded. "We'll tell you anything we're fairly sure of -- that's a promise. And if I think of anything else, I'll call you. Is there some way I can reach you?"
Brown reached into an inner pocket and produced a business card. "My talker number is on it but if you call, make sure it's important."
"I will," Lori said.
Brown regarded her for several seconds. "If I were your husband, I suspect I'd worry a lot." He looked at Clark.
Clark kept his face straight with an effort. "He does," he said.
"Now," Brown said, "let's see what's in that bag. Since you found it, it only seems fair that you be present, but I'd appreciate it if you won't report on this without permission."
"Of course not," Lori said.
"Good. You and Superman can be the witnesses." Brown picked up the bag and Lori kept her eyes focused on him as a pair of men dressed in white decontamination suits guided an anti-grav litter bearing a large, sheet-covered object past them and out the door. As it closed behind them, the room's lights flickered and came on.
Brown produced an object from a pocket and pressed a button. The object gave out a series of soft tones, and without fuss the lock on the satchel came quietly undone.
The contents didn't seem all that remarkable at first. There was a full change of clothing, a manual toothbrush and paste, a set of identification and a small, plastic box of the type that was normally used to store microchips. Brown removed the clothing, methodically checked the pockets and laid it aside. The identification showed a holographic image of Johnson's face, but the name displayed was Robert Reid. Brown raised his eyebrows but laid the little card back in the satchel. Then he picked up the plastic case.
The case came open easily, to reveal two tiny chips inside. Lori extended her palm computer. "Here."
Brown glanced at her and then selected a chip and slipped it into the correct slot.
The tiny screen lit up almost at once, displaying a title page, and the logo of Genie Electronics. Brown flipped through the document quickly, displaying mathematical formulae and diagrams that meant nothing to any of the three. Finally, he closed the display and removed the chip. "I think this is the information you were telling me about," he said. "Let's see what's on the other one."
The second chip was more of the same, with emphasis on diagrams. At last, Brown shut off the display and returned the chip to its protective case. Methodically, he replaced the contents in the satchel, closed and locked it. He glanced at his silent assistant. "You recorded all that?"
The man nodded.
"Make sure Ms. Lyons and Superman both have statements to sign later."
Again the man nodded. Brown stood up. "You realize that you'll need to change rooms."
"Yes," Lori said. "May I bring along my clothes, and Clark's?"
"As soon as we check them over, certainly," Brown said. "We'll also be interviewing the persons you named and others who might have seen something. In the meantime, gather up what you and your husband need for tonight. I'll have the hotel move you to another room."
**********
During the ensuing transfer, Clark and Detective Brown disappeared together and Lori found herself settled in another room with a change of clothing for herself and Clark, as well as their night gear. After the police had finally departed, she sank down on the foot of the king-sized bed and drew a deep breath.
The case had suddenly gotten a lot more complicated. Who would have wanted Talbot Grey dead? What could possibly be behind it?
The shock of what had happened was beginning to wear off and Lori found herself beginning to think analytically once more. Assuming that Grey was indeed the man who had planned the theft from Genie Electronics, what if there had been two accomplices instead of one? That hadn't occurred to her before but now she began to seriously consider the possibility.
What if there were a second confederate, and what if this other person was the real murderer? Or, alternately, suppose he had realized why Johnson had been killed and figured that he could very well be next?
But who could this mystery person be? Who else could have had any connection with Talbot Grey and Edgar Johnson? And why? In an enterprise like this, the fewer persons involved, the better. Unless they needed someone with some kind of special skills or access. Maybe that had been Johnson's actual role -- recruiting someone that Tal needed to accomplish his goal. She had been wondering how someone could have gotten access to Marilyn's security information. Maybe that was how. What if the other person was involved in company security?
Abruptly, she began to wonder where Jason Decker had been in the last twenty-four hours or so. If she had thought much about it, she would have assumed that he was trying to locate the missing bag, just like she and Clark were -- but he might not have had the same clues that they had, unless his skills at computer hacking were considerably above the average citizen's. But what if he had figured that Tal had it?
There were plenty of gaps in the reasoning, she knew. But whoever the person in her room had been, he knew that she had seen him. Her light had flashed across his face for an instant before he had fled, and it was unlikely that he would be willing to risk the possibility that her glimpse had been too brief for her to identify him. If he had committed one murder, what was to stop him from committing two?
**********
tbc
