The Domino Pattern

food?”

“None,” the Modhri said firmly. “I’ve replayed the memory of the entire meal through my mind many times since then. Neither of the others could have done so.”

I nodded. I’d already come to the same conclusion, but it was good to have it verified by a fresh source. “Let’s move on to the rest of Colix’s evening. He finished dinner and …?”

“He returned immediately to his seat,” the Modhri said. “His stomach was starting to bother him.”

I frowned. “By the time he reached his seat?”

“Even sooner,” the Modhri said. “He was feeling the first twinges before the end of the meal.”

“Really,” I said, tapping my fingertips on the arm of my borrowed chair. Heavy-metal poisoning hit Shorshians quickly, but not that quickly. “Let’s back up a bit. Did anything unusual happen that afternoon?”

“And did he have his throat lozenges with him all afternoon?” Bayta added.

I threw a sideways look at her. As distasteful as it might be for her to have to deal with the Modhri, she was obviously intrigued by the chance to access one of the murder victims’ memories. “Including during dinner,” I added, looking back at Qiddicoj.

“Mr. Kennrick visited him briefly in the early afternoon,” the Modhri said. “They discussed the halfway- celebration meal Mr. Kennrick was planning.”

I nodded. Kennrick had already told me about that. “And the lozenges?”

“They were locked in his lower storage compartment the entire time, including during the sundown meal.” The Modhri considered. “Though Mr. Kennrick did handle them later that evening, when he retrieved Master Colix’s keepsake blanket for him.”

I sat up a little straighter. That meeting Kennrick hadn’t mentioned. “What exactly happened?”

“Mr. Kennrick stopped by to say good night,” the Modhri said. “Master Colix was feeling too ill to rise, and asked Mr. Kennrick to obtain his blanket and transfer his lozenges to the upper storage compartment.”

“Were either of Master Colix’s seatmates there at the time?” I asked.

“The Juri was absent,” the Modhri said. “The Human female was already beneath her privacy shield. I believe Master Tririn was absent as well.”

Which would explain why neither Tririn, Terese, nor the Juri in the window seat had mentioned the incident. “Did he lock the upper storage compartment after he got the blanket?”

A slight frown creased Qiddicoj’s face. “I’m not certain. Master Colix watched as he pulled out the blanket, placed the bag of lozenges in its place, then flipped the blanket open and draped it across Master Colix’s torso. Master Colix was looking at the blanket, adjusting its position, when Mr. Kennrick returned Master Colix’s ticket.”

“Where did Master Colix put the ticket?” I asked.

“In his tunic’s inside top pocket.”

Which was where Bayta and I had found it when we’d later examined the body. “Did anyone else go pocket- diving in his tunic between then and the time he was brought to the dispensary?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” the Modhri said, sounding frustrated. “Master Colix was so focused on his internal condition that he wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings.”

“And you weren’t either?”

“I have only my Eye’s senses to work with,” the Modhri reminded me. “If those senses are impaired, I’m as helpless as the Eye itself.”

“Let’s try a different angle,” I suggested. “Did Master Colix always keep the ticket in that pocket?”

“Yes.”

“Did his seatmates know that?”

“Most likely. Master Colix didn’t keep it a secret.”

“Master Tririn know it, too?”

“Again, most likely.”

I grimaced. In other words, whether Kennrick had locked the compartment or not, way too many people knew where to find the key.

“But Logra Emikai was the one we caught in the baggage car,” Bayta pointed out. “How would he have known where the ticket was?”

“Logra Emikai had Master Colix’s ticket?” the Modhri asked, sounding confused.

“Possibly,” I said. “We ran into him poking around the bodies a couple of days after the first deaths. He may have been returning the ticket, or he may have been up to something else he didn’t want to get caught at. No chance you were still hanging around the morgue, I suppose?”

Qiddicoj shook his head. “Both Master Colix’s and di-Master Strinni’s colonies were dead soon after their bodies were taken there,” the Modhri said. “Yet you told me Logra Emikai was not connected to the murders.”

“I said that was my gut feeling,” I corrected. “But that was largely based on the fact that I didn’t have a motive for him, barring some deep, dark connection with either the victims or Pellorian Medical that we didn’t know about. Now that we know there’s at least a tenuous connection between him and Witherspoon via Terese, I may have to put him back on the list.”

“At least as an accomplice,” Bayta murmured. “He couldn’t have created last night’s situation by himself.”

“Agreed,” I said. “All that having been said, he still doesn’t feel right for the job.”

“I had hoped for more from you than mere intuition,” the Modhri said with a hint of disapproval.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get more,” I said, standing up. “Thank you for your assistance. We’ll be in touch.”

Qiddicoj nodded. “If I can be of further assistance, merely ask.”

“I will,” I said. “One other thing. One of your walkers shares a car with the three Fillies on the contract team. Have you seen any of them disappear for long periods, or head back toward third class?”

“No,” the Modhri said without hesitation. “They leave for meals and hygienic needs, but that’s all. All other time is spent sleeping, reading, or playing games together.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Good afternoon, Modhri.”

“Good afternoon, Compton.” Qiddicoj took an extra-deep breath, and the skin of his face tightened subtly as the Modhri disappeared back under his rock.

Bayta and I returned our borrowed chairs to their original places, then headed forward toward our compartments. “There, now,” I said as we passed through the vestibule into the next car. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“He’s a monster,” Bayta said shortly.

“That he is,” I agreed. “But sometimes in investigative work you have to deal with one monster in order to bring down another.”

She was silent another half coach length. “Did we at least learn anything useful?” she asked at last.

“Oh, yes,” I said softly. “For starters, we learned that Kennrick lied to us. Let’s go find out why.”

EIGHTEEN

Kennrick was right where I’d expected to find him: sitting in the bar in earnest conversation with Asantra Muzzfor. Both of them looked up as Bayta and I approached, and neither looked especially happy to see us. “Compton,” Kennrick greeted me perfunctorily as we got within conversation distance. “Sorry, but this is a private meeting.”

“This’ll only take a minute,” I promised. “I just want to know why you lied to me.”

That got his full attention. “What?” he asked, frowning. “When?”

“Perhaps we should step out into the corridor for a moment?” I suggested, inclining my head microscopically toward Muzzfor.

“No,” Muzzfor said firmly. “I wish to hear this. Bring a chair for yourself and your companion, Mr. Compton.”