eye-lens measured no discernible increase in Bachchan's blink-rate and only a slightly elevated heart-rate as anyone would have under these conditions. Conclusion: Bachchan was telling the truth, or at least believed he was. The Ombudsman would no doubt come to the same conclusion. Unfortunate, that meant Akers' would have to stick around Agni longer than expected.
“So why were you in that chamber where Sri Darzi was killed?” Constable Jain demanded.
“I was not!” Bachchan retorted. “That digital record is a lie!”
Akers' cybernetic ear-drum couldn't detect a change in his voice-pitch, more evidence in favour of Bachchan. There was no way he was going to convict himself in front of the Ombudsman.
“So you did not see Sri Darzi down there then?” the constable continued.
“How could I, I was not there!” Bachchan repeated.
“If my father said he was not there, then he was not there!” Anantha stated. At least one person believed him.
“I've seen enough,” Akers stated as he turned to leave the holding cells.
“You have not even asked one question of him!” Constable Jain argued.
“What would I question him about? He wasn't there,” Akers replied. “We should talk to Darzi's wife. I understand she lives down here?”
“Yes, she lives in their apartment,” the constable stated. “But why question her? She is not a suspect.”
“Are there any other suspects?” Akers asked.
“Why would there be another suspect?” Constable Jain asked. “We have the video evidence of Sri Bachchan entering the chamber Sri Darzi was killed in.”
“So there are no other suspects?” Akers asked.
“No,” the constable confirmed defiantly, “but Shrimati Darzi's husband was just killed! She has been through-”
“I have to file a report on this,” Akers interrupted. “Now you have only one suspect and no witnesses. How am I supposed to file a report that states I only questioned the one suspect, who insisted he was innocent?”
“You did not even ask him any questions!” Constable Jain argued. “Maybe if you had-”
“I did,” Akers interrupted. “I asked him his name, and he answered very honestly. Now, are you going to tell me where the Darzi's apartment is? Or should I go ask people in the Chhatri?”
“I will escort you,” the constable decided quickly. “But if you upset Shrimati Darzi I will throw you out of Agni Station! You cannot upset the wife of such an important bureaucrat, especially with the eyes of the entire company on us.”
“I have no interest in upsetting her,” Akers stated. “Just some routine questions.”
“You will prove my father's innocence Mr. Holmes?” Anantha Bachchan stated as Akers stepped through the door into the MPD office.
Akers paused to look back at the young woman. She looked lost, maybe she doubted her father as well. “I'm sure the evidence will prove who the real killer is.”
A few minutes later Akers and Constable Jain were at the Darzi's apartment door. It wasn't a long walk, the Darzi apartment had an entrance on the Chhatri, with a greenhouse above the door. It was possibly the only greenhouse on Mars under a blue sky. Perhaps that was why the Darzis lived in this heat, Akers understood they were both from Earth. As they neared the Darzi's door, Justice Schwinghammer emerged.
“Hello Zeus, everything in order?” the constable asked they almost collided.
“Yes, I was just consoling Ms. Darzi over the loss of her husband,” the Justice answered. “Everything seems in order with the transfer of stock. I suppose Bharat Zirconium will send a new COO from Earth now?”
“I guess so,” Constable Jain replied. “I have not heard anything about that yet, but why would they tell me?”
“Right,” Zeus dismissed the issue. “Well I'll be at Cafetería Golguppa for the next hour or so if you're looking for me.”
“Did you want to talk to Sri Bachchan?” the constable Jain asked.
“The murderer?” Zeus enquired. “Why would I want to talk to him? He has nothing to do with the transfer of stock. I'll need to speak to the new COO when he or she arrives.”
“Of course, then I will see you later,” the constable stated turning to the door.
Susheela Darzi answered the door as soon as Constable Jain touched the door chime. She must have been waiting inside the door since Zeus left. At 25 degrees the interior of the Darzi's apartment seemed frigid compared to the almost 50 degrees outside. Clearly Ms. Darzi didn't like the heat, and she didn't want it getting in, she ushered them quickly into the apartment before the constable could introduce Akers.
“This is detective Sherlock Holmes from the Confederacy,” Constable Jain stated as soon as they were inside the apartment. “He's reviewing the evidence against Sri Bachchan for a report to the senate.”
“Sherlock Holmes?” Susheela repeated in amusement. “One of Shakespeare’s characters right? Your parents had quite a sense of humour.”
“They did indeed,” Akers agreed. He didn't clarify that Sherlock Holmes was the name of the company he worked for, that would lead him to stating his actual name. His parents had given him a family name, a name that had plagued his childhood. Sherlock Holmes had been a codename given to him by his first commander in the resistance. Now that commander was Prime-Admin of the Confederacy, and he was stuck with the name. He preferred Sherlock Holmes anyway. It sounded familiar, but few Martians seemed to know who Arthur Conan Doyle was. At least Ms. Darzi had guessed a British author, most guessed American authors.
“He just needs to record in his report that he spoke with you,” the constable continued.
“Of course, come up stairs,” Susheela Darzi stated. “We can sit in the garden, it is like being back on Earth.”
She seemed proud of that, Akers had never been to Earth. Few Mars-born had been to Earth. Between the cost of the trip, and dealing with the increased gravity, most didn't see the value. She led them up a set of stairs into a large glassed-in room with plants placed around the walls and a set of divans around a small pond in the centre. Above them was the eery blue pseudo-sky. Once they were sitting down there was no sign of Agni station, just plants and the blue sky, with little fish swimming around in the pond. So this was what Earth was like. It didn't seem that impressive. Akers was more impressed with Susheela, she was stunningly beautiful. She must have had a lot of cosmetic surgery. As Akers understood it, most of the corporate bureaucrats liked to have attractive husbands or wives that had little or no useful skills. It was some kind of strange Earth-prostitution that elevated one's status. Akers didn't really get it, he preferred useful woman, but had to admit she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen.
“So what can I do for you Mr. Holmes?” Susheela asked once they were seated.
“As Constable Jain said I just need to ask a few questions. There is just the one suspect, so everything seems in order,” Akers said. “Just routine, I'm sure you'll understand.”
“Of course, the bureaucrats like their routines and documentation,” Susheela observed as she turned on a cigarette and then looked at him as she placed it to her lips and sucked suggestively. Odd. He glanced over as Constable Jain, and noted look of surprised anger. Interesting, maybe useful.
Akers tuned back to Susheela, “Have you been married long, Mrs. Darzi?”
“Four wonderful years!” she replied in an almost automatic response.
“Happily married?” Akers continued.
“Aseem is the most wonderful man in the world!” Susheela replied again without a thought.
“Is?” Akers enquired.
“Excuse me?” Susheela asked suddenly confused.
“You said he is the most wonderful man in the world. Is, not was,” Akers clarified.
“Oh. Yes, he is dead now. He was, my husband, he worked here in Agni Station,” Susheela stammered.
Broken programming Akers surmised. She wasn't programmed for this eventuality. Clearly she was just programmed for Aseem's amusemen
t, now that he was dead it didn't matter what happened to her. If Akers' cybernetic eye wasn't confirming she was human, he would have assumed she was an android.
“Any children Mrs. Darzi?” Akers asked.
“Children, oh my no!” Susheela answered. “Aseem has been approved for three children, but we are waiting to return to Earth. We wouldn't want them to be born on Mars!”
Are waiting? She wasn't going to be useful to the court; she didn't seem to fully grasp reality. Too dysfunctional to be a suspect. A thought, “Are you planning to return to Earth?”
“Oh yes, Aseem and I can't wait to return to Earth!” Susheela replied immediately.
“Aseem is dead,” Akers stated bluntly. “What are you planing to do?”
“Oh, yes, Aseem is dead now,” Susheela seemed to realize again. “I, I live here.”
“I'm sure we will find you a nice place to live here in Agni Station,” Constable Jain stated. “Until you decide what you want to do.”
“Yes, Roshan is my friend!” Susheela stated. “She visits me every day!”
“I see,” Akers tuned back to the constable. “Who get's Mr. Darzi's stock in Bharat Zirconium?”
“His clone back on Earth,” Roshan Jain answered. “After he is of legal age of course, until then it is administrated by his perpetual fund manager.”
“Who'll be raising the clone?” Akers asked.
“Whoever he hired,” the constable answered. “There are several foster companies in the Singapore Conglomerate. I suppose he hired a firm in Uttar Pradesh or Maharashtra. Is it important?”
“Probably not,” Akers conceded. “Just seems strange to not leave anything to your wife.”
“Bureaucrats are not like us,” Roshan observed. “They only care about themselves.”
“Whereas you care about Mrs. Darzi?” Akers asked in a vaguely accusatory tone.
“We are well acquainted,” the constable replied.
“We're best of friends!” Susheela stated. “She visits me every day!”
“This is getting outside of your area of investigation,” Constable Jain observed. “Unless there are more questions related to the investigation, we should leave.”
“You're right, we should go,” Akers agreed, and stood up. His cybernetics had recorded more than enough evidence to establish a second suspect. This room was covered in fingerprints and DNA belonging to someone else with a motive to kill Aseem. Now he just had to prove it was possible.
“Aw already?” Susheela said standing up. “I was hoping we could be friends!”
“Afraid so,” Akers stated dismissively. “Lots to do, and I want to leave Agni as soon as possible. Most of it is a lot hotter than this garden of yours.”
“Yes, this planet is too hot,” Susheela agreed. She didn't seem to understand she was kilometres below the surface of a frozen world.
“This station is small, and Shrimati Darzi was quite isolated by her husband's status,” Constable Jain explained once they were outside.
“Good of you to look in on her,” Akers stated. “What did Bachchan have on him when you arrested him?”
“Not much,” the constable answered. “Come back to the station and I'll show you. There was a particle drill, some rocks, some forged security cards, an e-cigar. Of course I also found the gun he used to kill Sri Darzi when I searched his apartment.”
“I'd like to look at the gun,” Akers stated.
“Of course,” Constable Jain agreed. “It is a compelling piece of evidence. It must be in your report.”
A few minutes later he was looking at the gun, it was a compelling piece of evidence. An Ashok-Leyland solid-state laser-pistol. The reports of Aseem Darzi's burns were consistent with this weapon. Constable Jain took the pistol from the evidence locker and tried to hand it to Akers, but he refused to touch it, “I'm just here as an observer, I shouldn't handle the evidence. Did you find any DNA evidence of Bachchan handling the weapon?”
“No he had cleaned it,” Constable Jain reported.
“It looks brand new,” Akers observed.
“It is,” the constable replied. “The diagnostics report that only one shot has been fired.”
“So he just bought it to kill Darzi?” Akers suggested.
“It appears so,” Constable Jain agreed.
“Is there a record of him buying it?” Akers asked.
“No, but the CMZ does not require gun sales be registered,” the constable reported.
“When was it imported?” Akers asked.
“It was shipped in from Earth a few months ago,” Constable Jain replied. “To a gun shop up on the surface. I checked but they sold it months ago and don't have a video recording of the sale anymore.”
Good, the evidence was adding up for Akers' case. It was time to shake things up, and see what shook loose. “I don't think Bachchan did it.”
“What?” Constable Jain was dumbfounded. “But you've seen all the evidence! Who do you think did it?”
“Oh I'm pretty sure I know who did it,” Akers stated. “But I don't have enough evidence yet to make a case.”
“So that's it? You come down here and make vague accusations to discredit my case against Bachchan?” Constable Jain demanded. “Get out of Agni Station! Take the next elevator up to the surface! You have no jurisdiction here!”
“Jurisdiction no, but a legit reason to pursue this case yes,” Akers stated. “And we both know if you throw me out of here the bureaucrats back on Earth with want to know why. My report to the Confederate Senate would report my current belief that Bachchan is being framed, and that would cast more doubt on your case than my sticking around here and asking a few more questions. Unless of course, you are covering something up.”
“Me? How dare you?” Constable Jain stammered.
“I'll be sticking around until my case is closed!” Akers declared and then left the station before the constable could state another word. Akers grinned as he stepped out into the sweltering Chhatri. Constable Jain's confusion was understandable, her case was solid. The murder weapon found in the home of the only person who was with the murder victim according to the station access logs, and someone with ample cause to kill the victim. And what did he have? In truth, not much. But sometimes a weak hand needed a good bluff, and this was one of those times.
He'd already spoken to everyone in this tiny community that he needed to speak to, but he needed to look at the murder scene before he closed his case. Perhaps he should have done that before alienating the constable. It was hot in the Chhatri, he looked around at the businesses. It was too hot to eat, he decided to return to his hotel room. It felt cool in the room, but was still around thirty above. He set the air conditioning to cool the room to 25 degrees, and lay down. The bed was too small to be comfortable, and he was clammy from sweating all afternoon. He took another shower and returned to his room. It was early evening, so he set his alarm wake him around midnight, and passed out. When he woke up he felt comfortable, a situation that ended as soon as he opened the door, and the heat rushed in. He walked back through the furnace of a hotel, and then opened the door to step out into the Chhatri and was hit again by a blast of heat. He wanted to leave, and then remembered it was going to get worse before it got better.
He walked over to Chicken Frankies, and ordered a chicken frankie and mango milk-shake, wondering if his sticking around was worth it. He could just send a report to the senate oversight committee agreeing with Constable Jain's conclusions. The evidence was good against Bachchan. He doubted it would result in a conflict with Singapore Conglomerate. The Asians had enough to worry about with the Vietnamese Uprising, they wouldn't want to engage in an interplanetary war over the murder of a minor corporate official. Clearly it had nothing to do with the Confederacy. Still...
“Senoir Sherlock?” a waitress asked, walking over to him.
“Sí,” Akers answered. She was the waitress serving the tables. Clearly he was sitting in the wrong area, because the bar waitress only spoke
Odia. The waitress explained in Spanish that a young woman had been in looking for him. At first he thought it was Susheela Darzi, but the waitress' face made it clear it wasn't Ms. Darzi, who had apparently never been in the place. The waitress did not have a message, or know who the woman was, just that she had been looking for him. From the blue-haired description he assumed it was Anantha Bachchan.
"Are you from Madhabani?" Akers continued in Spanish.
"Oh no! I'm from down here!" the waitress replied clearly viewing Agni Station as separate colony from the rest of the CMZ. "I've been up there but was too cold. I thought I would die!"
"You were born down here?" Akers asked.
"No, I was born up in Madhabani. Women are not allowed to give birth down here. But I have lived here since I was a baby. My parents lived here long before that. My father was a miner, and my mother owns this Chicken Frankies franchise. I would never live anywhere else."
"Your father doesn't mine anymore?" Akers enquired.
"He died," the waitress answered.
"Sorry," Akers stated compassionately, it was a common enough story. "The war?"
"No, is was a blow-out a few years ago," the waitress stated. "The north shaft blew out. Several hundred miners died."
"A blow out this deep?" Akers asked.
"They hit a deep cave," the waitress replied. "The outer atmosphere rushed in and filled the mine with higher pressure CO2 in minutes. Only a few miners got out before suffocating."
"What happened to that shaft?" Akers asked.
"They sealed it off, after getting the bodies out of course," the waitress answered.
"They didn't reopen it?" Akers asked.
"No, the vein was dead," the waitress reported. "It was mainly used to move equipment down to the lower levels where they are working now. But there are other elevators so they just sealed off the shaft."
That was interesting. Akers knew mines, especially deep mines. He'd run a drilling unit when he was younger, and knew enough about mines to know that a blown out shaft could be used to get around, provided one had the right gear. The chicken frankie had a strange flavor, he'd never eaten chicken before. He didn't like it, the flavor was too strong, and the texture stringy. He thought about tracking down Anantha Bachchan to see what she wanted, but decided it could wait. The night was going to be long enough, but if his hunch paid off, he could leave in the morning.
Given what he was about to do, the sooner he left the CMZ the better. This wasn't the first problem in a CMZ he'd been sent in to resolve. The problem with being trusted by the Prime-Admin and Senate was that they knew they could depend on him to get the job done, whatever the job. His war record proved that. He had been with Dalton and Rome when they captured Pickering colony, not many could say that. If the corporate bureaucrats figured out what he was doing in Agni, it would be best if he was already gone. If the Confederacy had to deny knowledge of his actions while he was in corporate custody, it would be the last time anyone would ever hear of him.
Akers was just finishing his milkshake when she came into Chicken Frankies.