“The patterns are here, Hoshi. They line up. I’d say their plan was brilliant. They were patient, careful, and deliberate, but there was an oversight. That’s all you need. An entire empire fell due to one oversight.”

  “I’m confused, Trev. Who and what are you talking about?”

  Fair enough. If Hoshi was to see the tapestry as he did, Trevor would have to start from the beginning. It would be a good test run. A verbal explanation would confirm the strengths and gaps in his theory.

  “Follow along. If I go too fast or ramble off the path, stop me and ask questions. Ready?”

  “Can’t wait.”

  He pulled forward the bundled interview logs from the students in Ulbrecht’s mentee group.

  “These students are smart, exhausted, but also bad liars.”

  “Is that why you told us not to reinterview them?”

  “Yep. Here we are: Eliza Hutton, Sil Mariputti, Jor Kerrindos, Freddie Lighthorne, and Ashraf Diep.” Their facial glyphs and official biographies accompanied the text of their interviews, recorded by Trevor’s wrist plate. “They agreed Ulbrecht was brilliant and spent his nights at Raison, and none of these people had the wherewithal to match his lifestyle. Sound right to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s start with Jor. His first reaction was to call Ulbrecht an idiot. He volunteered that they were incompatible lab partners but otherwise didn’t know him. Later, he said Ulbrecht had the energy for three people. He called it ‘some kind of magic.’

  “Next, there’s Sil. He claimed to have shared a few drinks with Ulbrecht at Raison, but Sil never stayed long.

  “Then there’s Freddie. Said they were ‘fair friends.’ He called Ulbrecht intense and said he spent one night at Raison with the guy, and that was enough. Following?”

  “I am. I assume you’re going somewhere with this.”

  “Oh, yes. Next is Ashraf. He said they had little in common but he admired the man.

  “Finally, Eliza. She had an immediate emotional reaction. Based on what she told us later, Eliza was shocked but not surprised by Ulbrecht’s death. She told us not to trust the others in the group – they were jealous of Ulbrecht. When we discussed Raison, she said he invited her many times, but she couldn’t manage that lifestyle.”

  Hoshi nodded. “I remember. She all but confessed to being in love with him.”

  “It went further. But let’s start with Raison.” Trevor pushed away the bundled biographies and reached for trend waves he created from LinkPass histories. “That club is the key. I filtered histories to focus on every time any of these five entered Raison. Watch carefully. I’m going to set Ulbrecht’s club entries beside theirs.”

  A series of horizontal bars illuminated the date and timestamps of Ulbrecht’s club appearances.

  “They were right about him,” Hoshi said in an astonished tone. “How many times is that?”

  “He visited on a hundred fifty-five standard days. Including same-day returns, a total of two hundred thirty entries. The man was a regular. But his fellow mentees were no slouches.”

  Trevor moved their bar charts into place, each with a different color scheme. Though none had as many bars, almost every visit corresponded with Ulbrecht.

  “Ninety-eight visits between the five. Sil and Freddie eighteen each. Jor twenty-one. Ashraf seventeen. Eliza? Twenty-nine! They arrived within ten minutes of Ulbrecht almost every time. Sil, Ashraf, and Eliza came as a threesome sixteen times. Jor and Freddie as a pair, but ten times. These people loved the club and Ulbrecht’s company.”

  Trevor gave her a moment to reach the inevitable conclusion.

  “They all lied,” she said, sounding naïve enough to be shocked.

  “Which begs the obvious question: Why?”

  “I assume you have an answer, Trev.”

  “Getting there. First, I want to back up. There’s a problem with Eliza. She claimed to have Bucher’s Syndrome. Yes?”

  “Sure. Eliza said it acted up when she was emotional.”

  “I fell for it. She mimicked the symptoms perfectly.”

  He yanked her dataflick from the bundle, flipped it around, and displayed a window topped by EXIGENT MEDICAL SUMMARY. Hoshi reacted as if a monster leaped out of the holo.

  “Trevor. What in ten hells are you doing? These are her medical records. We had authorization to open LinkPass history, not this. You could be fired if they ...”

  Oh, enough with the hysterics. Please.

  “Have a seat. This is Eliza’s IMER. OK? Intersystem Medical Emergency Referral. It’s primary data if she needed emergency treatment on any member world.”

  Hoshi groaned. “I know what an IMER is, Trev. But only authorized doctors or phasic techs can open it without approval.”

  “By the letter of the law, you’re right. But she had a medical emergency yesterday. As authorized officers of the court on site, we provided assistance. Synchwater. That’s our story.”

  He tried to lighten the tone with a mischievous lilt, but she wasn’t buying.

  “You better hope no one finds out about this.”

  “Doubt it, unless you intend to screw me over.”

  “Trev, I ...”

  “You wouldn’t be the first. Hoshi, listen. Bucher’s Syndrome is serious. Everyone is tested for it, especially from high-risk worlds. But it’s not listed on Eliza’s IMER.”

  “What?”

  “Not everyone from a high-gravity planet suffers from it. Nor does Eliza.” He scrolled down the page to a different diagnosis. “She’s pregnant.”

  Hoshi grabbed the flick and expanded the text, her jaw agape.

  “Fifty-one standard days! Why did she claim it was Bucher’s?”

  “Best guess? She’d compromise her status at Maynor. Abortions aren’t permitted on Amity, so she’d have to return home. I checked the student calendar. They have a short quarter break coming up. I ran down the manifests for outbound liners on those days. Guess who is booked for a quick jump to Hansen’s Landing?”

  Hoshi backed down and told Trevor to give her a moment.

  “Feeling all right?” He asked.

  “I’m fine. So, she’s pregnant. We assume Ulbrecht is the father.”

  “Oh, yeah. She never confirmed they slept together, but her LinkPass shows seven visits to his flat, the last one eight days ago, but the second was fifty-one days ago.”

  “Seems obvious enough, Trev. I understand why she lied to us about it. She’s trying to protect her place at Maynor. That’s all.”

  Dare he berate his Second for an obvious bias?

  “Doesn’t change a simple truth: She’s a liar. She visited Raison more than anyone outside of Ulbrecht. She’s a problem, Hoshi. A big one. That group is working together. They’re connected to Ulbrecht’s murder if not directly involved.”

  “What? How?”

  Time for the tricky bits. Was she open-minded enough?

  “Remember this morning when Devonshire was asked whether Black Star had infiltrated Amity? She said, ‘Almost certainly.’”

  He pointed to the five biographies, to which Hoshi responded with a dumbfounded stare. Somewhere deep down, Trevor assumed, she stifled laughter.

  “You cannot be serious. The students? Working for Black Star?”

  “Devonshire said they recruited people with no criminal record. Beyond reproach. She said we’d find the evidence in their accounts. A massive influx of UCVs.”

  “Trev, these students are in their early twenties. They have brilliant futures. Why would they take creds from Black Star?”

  It was a fair, predictable question.

  “They wouldn’t. But what if it was their only ticket into Maynor? A third party promises to guarantee selection and then support the student and his family. Simply repay the kindness with certain favors. An allegiance. If you don’t hold up your end, deal’s off. Everything goes away.”

  Hoshi wasn’t buying. She shook her head with vigorous disdain then smirked.

  “I just found a hole in your theory. Headmaster Thet picks the applicants. He said millions apply each year. What was the ratio for Yaniff? Three out of ...?”

  “Seventy-four thousand. Very exclusive. A man with that sort of power has remarkable leverage, don’t you think?”

  Trevor allowed her to mull the implication. She came to it slowly, with a growing awareness in flustered cheeks.

  “Thet? He’s taking bribes?”

  “Him or administrators close to him. A selection committee chooses the finalists. The application process is publicly listed on their stream, but the criteria for selecting winners is not.”

  Hoshi waved off the idea.

  “I can’t believe he’d do it. Why risk his stature?”

  “Hoshi, I spent nineteen years in Harmony. Corruption comes naturally to people who live on the mountaintop. Back home on Hokkaido, your people still revere President Aleksanyan. Yes?”

  “Of course.”

  “And why not? She was a war hero, a founding member of Congress, her husband was High Admiral for years. She’d probably still be President if she wasn’t assassinated. Admirable, honorable, above reproach. Yes?”

  Taking Hoshi down this road was distasteful, but Trevor decided it had to be done.

  “Where are you going with this, Trev?”

  “I happen to believe she was the most corrupt President we’ve ever had. The inquest about her financial endeavors aside, I heard valid rumors from a close friend in SI that Aleksanyan kept a small unit of assassins on a secret payroll. They quietly eliminated problems for her. I’m not saying it’s true, Hoshi, but that friend died two weeks ago after he captured the man who invented Motif. He knew the Collectorate like few people.”

  Trevor tried to be supportive, laying a hand on her arm.

  “The people we most admire aren’t always bad. Some come as advertised, but others lose their way. There are things about Thet that worry me.”

  Hoshi sat up straight.

  “Like what?”

  “Indonesia Prime. His home world is base for Black Star’s largest operations. The five planets within the Perseus Cluster have seen the most violence related to Motif. Sil Mariputti is also from Indy Prime. Ashraf Diep is from New Bangkok, which is inside the Cluster.”

  “A coincidence. Thirty-eight planets are represented at Maynor. There’s no evidence of corruption, Trev.”

  “Not yet. I submitted a criminal probable cause order to the Interstellar Banking Exchange for an ROA on Thet, everyone in the mentee group – including Ulbrecht – and Orval Erdogan.”

  “ROA?”

  “Review of Assets. I asked for the past three years. It’s a small wealth estimate based on UCVs lodged in protected depositories. It won’t say where any of the credits came from, and it will take several days to push through the system. But here’s the thing: None of those students were born to wealthy families. Not even close. In fact, they’d be the perfect marks.”

  She studied him as if he was a stranger. Of course, they’d only known each other for two days, so it made sense.

  “I’m trying to believe in you, Trev. I really am.”

  “Fair enough. Then what d’ya say I push on through the rest, and then you can tell me I’ve lost my faculties.”

  Hoshi rubbed the back of her neck.

  “I’ll try. But I’m going to warn you now: If you present this to Dorrit, he’ll laugh you out of his office.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Trevor gathered Orval Erdogan’s profile. The young Turk’s glyph beamed with an energy not present in the guy Trevor interviewed.

  “Orval said he hadn’t visited Raison in months. The LinkPass history confirms his story, so it’s doubtful he had relations with Ulbrecht’s mentee group. But he did have a relationship with Ulbrecht, and that’s where he lied.”

  “What kind of relationship?”

  “They were business partners.”

  Her double-take returned on cue.

  “Wait. Your notes said he claimed Ulbrecht was a fraud. Ulbrecht threatened his life.”

  “Oh, sure. Ulbrecht was a fraud. No doubt. He cheated his way onto Amity. But he also skirted the Housing Authority to make sure his and Orval’s flats were nearby. Why? To keep his enemy close?” Trevor chuckled. “Not likely. Nor would he have told Orval about the phantom drill unless he trusted the man. They went into business together and started hunting for buyers. Think someone in Episteme with a deep account might see its value?”

  “Like who?”

  This was the part where uncertainty entered the fray. Too many potential options for Trevor’s taste, but he remained satisfied with his theory’s internal logic.

  “Difficult to say. But we know of six people who were obligated to pay back the kindness of a benefactor. Yes? And one of them slept with Ulbrecht.”

  “Whoa. Eliza Hutton? You think she ...”

  “Acted as a conduit. Aside from Orval, she’s the one person Ulbrecht would trust. He introduced her to the program, and she knew the right people to contact. Hoshi, I believe Ulbrecht sold the program weeks ago, but he betrayed his business partner. Orval realized he’d been cut out – that’s why they argued. When we spoke to Eliza, she played it down. Said it wasn’t important.

  “She had too much to lose if the truth were known. As for Orval, that guy was a mess when I spoke to him. Now I know why: With Ulbrecht dead, he lost his chance at seeing any UCVs from the sale.”

  Trevor gave her a moment to digest the latest twist.

  “If you’re right, then Orval wasn’t the killer.”

  “Nope.”

  “Who then?”

  Trevor relished the question, even though the answer eluded him.

  24

  TREVOR SURVEYED THE DOZENS of dataflicks. Unmasking everything but the killer’s identity by the second day wasn’t bad at all. He felt buoyant. Trevor knew how to resolve the mystery, and where to find the answer. That last bit he kept under wraps for now.

  “A ghost,” he told Hoshi. “A ghost killed Ulbrecht Hann.”

  She didn’t laugh. Perhaps it was his somber tone.

  “Does the ghost have a name?”

  “From birth, I’d assume.”

  “Are you playing with my mind, Trev?”

  “Not at all. One part is simple: Ulbrecht’s killer owns the phantom drill. This person was the buyer or the buyer’s agent. He or she entered Flat 529 without detection, introduced him to a deadly pad of Motif, and left as quietly. The bigger question is: Who would be so audacious? That’s trickier.

  “By law, there are no secure cams inside residential properties. Only two verified residential crimes have taken place in the past ten years. They were quickly solved because of LinkPass. It’s brilliant security – unless someone can move about with impunity.”

  Hoshi shaded her eyes at the implication.

  “That’s frightening if true. Amity has always prided itself on being the safest place in the Collectorate.”

  “For the most part, it still is. Hoshi, I don’t believe the killer is in these dataflicks.”

  “OK. Explain.”

  Time to go down the conspiracy well.

  “Black Star has too much at stake. They expect a return on their investment. They need a way to monitor the students. To direct them. Make sure no one goes rogue. The students have a minder.”

  She paused to mull the idea.

  “Like an official contact or a watcher?”

  “Yes. It would also be someone of high repute. Slipped into the station without fanfare through the normal application process. That’s likely what happened with their agent in Customs.”

  Hoshi clapped her hands together in a moment of clarity.

  “The mentor! Mustafa Chait. He’s with them more than probably anyone. He could use their time together to receive updates or make new demands. It would be a perfect cover.”

  Under normal circumstances, Trevor would have congratulated her. OK, so it wasn’t the biggest leap. At least she was thinking along the proper lines.

  “He was my top suspect, until I saw this.”

  Trevor pulled up the man’s LinkPass history, academic schedule, and transport manifests from the Episteme Spaceport.

  “Chait teaches four classes and meets with his mentee group three times a week. Then, with regular precision, he takes a liner to Euphrates and stays for two days. He’s been doing this for more than a year. His biography lists a huge family. He spends a fortune jumping back and forth to be with them.

  “Here’s a vid of Chait disembarking the Dallaquin three hours before we discovered Ulbrecht’s body. He took a rifter directly to school. An hour later, his mentees reported in – except for Ulbrecht. That’s when Chait called in his absence. Chait lives on campus, along with some other faculty. He hasn’t traveled to Haven or Harmony in months. He’s not our guy.”

  Her shoulders sagged with the same frustration Trevor felt when he first ruled out Chait.

  “Perhaps you’re wrong, Trev. Perhaps there isn’t a minder.”

  “Oh, there is. It would be someone who feels free to travel between the sectors, meet with the students during off-hours, and have no fear of being outed. And now, with the phantom drill, feeling more confident than ever.”

  “But why kill Ulbrecht? He sold the program. He did his part.”

  “Ulbrecht learned the truth about his group’s benefactors. Eliza said he was afraid. I think she encouraged him to keep quiet. But the minder – or perhaps someone above this person – ordered his death. Black Star uses modified K3 as a weapon, so they smuggled it onboard through their Customs agent. The minder received it and finished the job. Might have worked, too, but they weren’t counting on me to show up at his door.”

  Trevor didn’t mind if that came across like braggadocio. Those other Haven deputies wouldn’t have dared to escalate the situation and enter the flat. Hoshi’s reticence proved as much.

  “You see, K3 is interesting. It decays slowly. Within a standard day, its blood concentration is barely noticeable. If he hadn’t been found in the morning, the levels would have been so low, we would have written it off as a standard MOD. That, I believe, was the plan all along. His killer stole the pom. By now, it’s likely off station or incinerated. And that is where we stand. Thoughts?”