what else do you remember?”
“Well, when the guy he was waiting for showed, they talked and the blond guy there, he got agitated. He said he’d been robbed, then he took off like he’d stolen Vader’s cloak, you know?”
Glasc narrowed her eyes and glanced at Hal. “Whatever he had was lifted, you figure? The woman who set him on fire must have it. What did she look like?”
The pink tip of the manager’s tongue wormed its way over dry lips. “Well, she wasn’t that tall, and she had brown hair…”
Hal shook his head. “This is ridiculous. I have a holograph for you to look at.” He reached into his pocket and slipped a holograph from his wallet, then pulled it out. He ripped the blond man’s holograph from the manager’s forehead and tossed it to Glasc, then showed the other holo to the manager. “Was this her?”
The manager shook his head. “Never seen her before in my life.”
I should hope not. My wife wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this . Hal shrugged and slipped the holograph back into his pocket. “Thank you for your help. You’re free to go.”
The man scurried off as Glasc grabbed Hal’s shoulder and spun him toward her. “What do you mean dismissing him?”
“Forgive me for preempting your investigation, but you know this lead was a complete bust. We’re looking for the person who killed Bel Iblis, right? Well, what assassin sits around in some dump tapcaf like a jewel thief waiting for a fence? I’ve no doubt your pretty boy there is guilty of something, but he was a rank amateur if he got lifted the way he did. And a lifter that good has likely already put plenty of hyperspace between her butt and this rock.”
Trabler frowned. “The assassin was waiting to get paid.”
Hal rolled his eyes. “Then what was lifted? Proof he’d killed Bel Iblis? I would have thought the galaxywide broadcast of the state funeral on Corellia would have pretty much been taken as proof. Moreover, an assassin that good would have demanded at least partial payment up front, so he’d never have to dive to these depths again. We should be looking on some luxury resort world, not here.”
Hal watched Glasc and saw her eyes flicker back and forth for a moment. He expected panic to roll off her, but he caught none of it. Which means my Force reserves are absolutely gone, or she’s just that good at self-control . Her whole cover story, thought up on the fly as Trabler shot Moranda down, was falling apart, and Trabler’s spackle job had only pointed out how absurd it had been from the start. Whatever they were really here searching for had been brought to Darkknell by the blond and lifted by Moranda. The fact that these two reeked of Core World arrogance suggested to Hal that they were most likely Imperials.
Hal shook his head. And that means both Moranda—if she’s even alive—and I are in far deeper than we ever wanted to be .
Garm Bel Iblis looked around the threadbare apartment as Moranda gingerly shrugged on a new blouse and jacket. Her living quarters were little more than a box with a window and a small refresher station walled away toward the rear, right beside the closet in which she rooted about for clothes. He didn’t see much there that made him think this was a place she’d lived long-term—and before congratulating himself on his deductive ability, he did recall that a CorSec inspector had come looking for her, which meant she’d been on the run.
The room, he thus decided, was one of those places that was the underworld’s equivalent of a safe house. Governments used safe houses as places where they could hide a witness before a trial or house a spy during debriefing. There were little bits and pieces of stuff here—mismatched glowlamps, a half-dozen periodical datacards, a melange of sheets and blankets that covered a thin pad laid down out of sight of the window—that had probably been left behind by previous criminal tenants.
Now that I’m full into the
“Well, when the guy he was waiting for showed, they talked and the blond guy there, he got agitated. He said he’d been robbed, then he took off like he’d stolen Vader’s cloak, you know?”
Glasc narrowed her eyes and glanced at Hal. “Whatever he had was lifted, you figure? The woman who set him on fire must have it. What did she look like?”
The pink tip of the manager’s tongue wormed its way over dry lips. “Well, she wasn’t that tall, and she had brown hair…”
Hal shook his head. “This is ridiculous. I have a holograph for you to look at.” He reached into his pocket and slipped a holograph from his wallet, then pulled it out. He ripped the blond man’s holograph from the manager’s forehead and tossed it to Glasc, then showed the other holo to the manager. “Was this her?”
The manager shook his head. “Never seen her before in my life.”
I should hope not. My wife wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this . Hal shrugged and slipped the holograph back into his pocket. “Thank you for your help. You’re free to go.”
The man scurried off as Glasc grabbed Hal’s shoulder and spun him toward her. “What do you mean dismissing him?”
“Forgive me for preempting your investigation, but you know this lead was a complete bust. We’re looking for the person who killed Bel Iblis, right? Well, what assassin sits around in some dump tapcaf like a jewel thief waiting for a fence? I’ve no doubt your pretty boy there is guilty of something, but he was a rank amateur if he got lifted the way he did. And a lifter that good has likely already put plenty of hyperspace between her butt and this rock.”
Trabler frowned. “The assassin was waiting to get paid.”
Hal rolled his eyes. “Then what was lifted? Proof he’d killed Bel Iblis? I would have thought the galaxywide broadcast of the state funeral on Corellia would have pretty much been taken as proof. Moreover, an assassin that good would have demanded at least partial payment up front, so he’d never have to dive to these depths again. We should be looking on some luxury resort world, not here.”
Hal watched Glasc and saw her eyes flicker back and forth for a moment. He expected panic to roll off her, but he caught none of it. Which means my Force reserves are absolutely gone, or she’s just that good at self-control . Her whole cover story, thought up on the fly as Trabler shot Moranda down, was falling apart, and Trabler’s spackle job had only pointed out how absurd it had been from the start. Whatever they were really here searching for had been brought to Darkknell by the blond and lifted by Moranda. The fact that these two reeked of Core World arrogance suggested to Hal that they were most likely Imperials.
Hal shook his head. And that means both Moranda—if she’s even alive—and I are in far deeper than we ever wanted to be .
Garm Bel Iblis looked around the threadbare apartment as Moranda gingerly shrugged on a new blouse and jacket. Her living quarters were little more than a box with a window and a small refresher station walled away toward the rear, right beside the closet in which she rooted about for clothes. He didn’t see much there that made him think this was a place she’d lived long-term—and before congratulating himself on his deductive ability, he did recall that a CorSec inspector had come looking for her, which meant she’d been on the run.
The room, he thus decided, was one of those places that was the underworld’s equivalent of a safe house. Governments used safe houses as places where they could hide a witness before a trial or house a spy during debriefing. There were little bits and pieces of stuff here—mismatched glowlamps, a half-dozen periodical datacards, a melange of sheets and blankets that covered a thin pad laid down out of sight of the window—that had probably been left behind by previous criminal tenants.
Now that I’m full into the
Similar Books
