Xenopath - [Bengal Station 02] by Eric Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

need it.”
     
    He took the pistol and strapped the holster under his jacket.
     
    “What’s happening?” he asked, as the taxi inserted itself into the flow of air traffic following colour-coded lanes high above the Station.
     
    “Big commission,” she said over her shoulder. “Biggest I’ve handled to date. Homicide is stretched as it is, and then this comes in. Guy got himself sliced up in the derelict amusement park in Kandalay. The commissioner got a Scene of Crime team in before realising they didn’t have enough detectives for the follow-up investigation.” She grunted. “Lucky us. It means all the groundwork will’ve been done by the time we get there. We just take the SoC’s collated information and do the footwork.”
     
    “Who’s the guy?”
     
    She shrugged. “That we’ll find out when we get there. All I know is what the Commissioner told me—a laser slaying in the park, and it’s a messy one. Hope you didn’t have a late breakfast.”
     
    He stared through the side window as the air-taxi whined in a tight arc, coming in low over the skeleton of an ancient big dipper and tumbledown amusement arcades.
     
    The taxi settled on a concrete apron between a broken-down starship simulation and the shell of a bankrupt McDonald’s franchise. Vaughan stepped out, staring across the apron to where a knot of SoC officers were kneeling beside a body in front of an old ghost train ride.
     
    Kapinsky introduced herself and Vaughan to the officer in charge, a big Sikh called K.J. Kulpa. As the SoC team wrapped up their work, dismantling cameras and laser-measuring apparatus, Kulpa gave Kapinsky the lowdown and Vaughan stared, despite himself, at the murder victim.
     
    The guy was Caucasian, in his fifties, dark haired and pale skinned. He wore a neat business suit and had died, Vaughan hoped, instantly. It was hard to tell, though. The killer had taken no chances, scoring a big X through the guy’s chest, joined at the top so that the loop had effectively decapitated his victim and dismembered the arms.
     
    Vaughan had seen the work of a laser before. A single, fraction of a second blast at long range was enough to halt a charging rhino: this gory elaboration was either the work of a sadist or someone who was taking no chances that his victim might survive.
     
    The SoC team boarded a police flier, leaving Kulpa and a corpse crew to mop up when the preliminary investigation was through.
     
    Kulpa handed Kapinsky a pin. “That should contain everything we have on the case, Linda. Call me if you need anything. Good luck.” He nodded to Vaughan and climbed into a private flier.
     
    Only the corpse team remained, kicking their heels while Kapinsky knelt and examined the body.
     
    Still crouching, she tossed Vaughan the pin and said, “Access that. The usual questions.”
     
    He slipped the pin into his handset and spoke into the mouthpiece. “Victim?”
     
    The program’s voice, female and Indian, answered, “ Robert Kormier, fifty-eight, male, South African. Victim employed by the Scheering-Lassiter Colonial Corporation. Position: Executive xenozoologist.”
     
    “Estimated time of death?” Vaughan said.
     
    “Midnight, plus or minus twelve minutes.”
     
    “Means of death?” It was always worth asking the seemingly obvious question in case the laser wounds were intended to cover the real cause of death, strangulation or some such.
     
    “Instantaneous laser laceration of right pulmonary ventricle.”
     
    “Weapon used?”
     
    “Kulatov MkII blaser, set at maximum burn.”
     
    “Estimated range of laser when fired?”
     
    “Between fifteen and twenty metres.”
     
    Vaughan looked around at the eerily deserted amusement park. “Witnesses?”
     
    “None.”
     
    Kapinsky stood. “Ask who discovered the body.”
     
    Vaughan relayed the question and the program responded with, “Night-watchman employed by Raja Amusements PLC. Alibi corroborated: at midnight he was in