Chapter 2
Alice stepped out of the cab and straightened her uniform. She was wearing the grey jacket of a senior officer, which was the only one she'd managed to find in her size. The dark trousers were a bit long, but she'd rolled up the cuffs and they looked fine over the chunky black combat boots she was wearing. She would have liked a gun, but she hadn't found the combination for the case yet. Anyway, the burglary had taken place in a five star hotel, and it was unlikely she'd have to shoot anyone.
Alice put on her best Peace Force officer expression as she strode up the steps. She felt nervous as she entered the lobby, certain someone would notice a fifteen-year old inside the uniform, but the place was busy and nobody spared her a second glance.
She went to reception, where the girl behind the counter was busy making a booking. Once she was done, Alice showed her badge, keeping her thumb over the word 'Trainee'. "Detective Alice Walsh. I'm here about the burglary."
"Oh yes, Mr Thickett said he'd called the Peace Force. I'm not sure it was strictly necessary, but he's a permanent resident and we like to keep them happy."
"What do you mean, not necessary? Was his wallet stolen or not?"
"You'd better ask him about that." The woman pointed. "He's over there. The gentleman in the blue shirt."
Alice nodded her thanks, and strode over to the man in question. Mr Thickett looked about eighty, with tufts of white hair, piercing blue eyes and veiny hands which were grasping an ancient walking stick. "Mr Thickett?"
"By gum, lass. They start you young in the Peace Force, what?"
Alice nodded. "Would you show me the crime scene, please? I'd like to get started."
"Are you sure? Shouldn't we wait for someone more senior? I mean, my great-granddaughter must be older than you."
Alice drew herself up. "There are lots of people older than me, Mr Thickett, but they're not officers in the Force, are they? Now, the crime scene, if you please."
Thickett gave a short, barking laugh. Then he gestured at a nearby sofa. "I was having breakfast there. Turned round to get a cuppa, and my wallet was taken while I wasn't looking." He lowered his voice. "I think it was the waiter."
Alice glanced around the lobby. She could see three serving staff moving between the guests, but they were all robots. She supposed you could program a robot to lift wallets, but this seemed more like a casual theft. She was still thinking when Thickett stood up.
"Need to see a man about a dog. I'll be right back."
He walked off slowly, leaning on the cane, and Alice wondered what to do next. Review security footage, perhaps, or line up all the staff and question them. Maybe gather all the guests and pace up and down, accusing them in turn until one of them confessed.
Or she could check the sofa, in case the silly old duffer had lost his wallet down the back.
She sat down and felt along the cushion. Her fingers closed on the wallet immediately, and she shook her head with frustration. Some case this turned out to be!
When Thickett came back, she held out the wallet silently. Thickett stared at it, blinking in astonishment. "That was fast."
"Peace Force training. We're the best."
"I'm sorry, my dear. I underestimated you."
Alice touched a finger to her cap, the way she'd seen Harriet salute.
"Aren't you going to arrest the thief?"
"We'll be keeping tabs on them," said Alice. "They won't strike again, I'm sure."
"Capital. You'll go far, young lady."
Alice saluted again, then turned and left. Outside, she signalled a cab and got in.
"Please state your destination," said a metallic voice.
"Take me to the Dismolle Peace Force," replied Alice, and she sank back into her seat. As the cab set off, she felt in her breast pocket, which held a couple of hundred-credit tiles she'd slipped out of Thickett's wallet. Well, it wasn't like the old guy would notice, she reasoned, and even if he did, he'd assume the thief took the money.
He deserved it, anyway, for wasting her time.
— ♦ —
"You say you're her uncle?" Harriet held the photo, trying to keep her expression neutral. Alice once told her about the uncle who'd brought her up, but he was definitely dead. Alice had also given Harriet a few sketchy details about her unhappy childhood, about the merry-go-round of foster families she'd endured before finally running away to space. If she had any other family, she'd never mentioned them.
So, was this Smith really another uncle, or was he after Alice for another reason? Something about him was off, Harriet knew it, so she decided to pass his details on to Alice and let her decide what to do about him.
Then another thought hit her. Alice had gone off on some case or other, but she might walk in any second. Sure, she was much older than the girl in the photo, but Harriet had recognised her from the picture, so there was a good chance this Smith guy would as well. She had to get rid of him, and quickly! "Sorry, I don't know her," said Harriet, passing the photo back.
"You're sure?" Smith looked at her closely, perhaps noticing some change in her manner.
"She reminds me of someone I went to school with," lied Harriet. "Memories. You know."
The man studied her a few moments longer, then shrugged. "Keep the photo. I got copies."
"And … you say she's your niece?"
"Yeah. Raised her from a kid after her folks bought it."
Now Harriet knew for certain he was lying. "Well, she's not on Dismolle. Sorry I couldn't help."
"What about the report?"
"What report?"
"Missing persons. Got to fill in the form in case she shows up. You will tell me if she shows up, right?"
Harriet felt rising panic. She wanted him out of there, not sitting next to her desk while she laboriously filled out paperwork. "I have
