Part 4

  Glade followed the old butler through the hall toward the Colonel’s study. It was so early in the morning that he had been initially quite scared to wake everyone up. He wouldn’t have even come except that the Colonel had instructed him to bring any development in the murder investigation to his immediate attention.

  Will, the night shift boss, had woken Glade barely an hour before, rambling on about how Kiro had just been gunned down in the street.

  The Colonel was sitting behind his desk when the butler admitted the shaking Glade to the room.

  He looked up at the quivering lackey. “What is it?”

  Glade reported what he’d heard about Kiro’s death.

  The Colonel sighed. This had gotten out of hand. “We need to go see the sheriff.”

  *****

  Doc Mason returned to his office. He closed the door behind him as he passed into the lobby. It was getting dark and it had been a long day. He locked the door behind him and headed back to the room where he’d left the body of the young woman. There was a short counter at the back of the room where several instruments used for medical testing were strewn about.

  Doc selected one of them, it was basically a small box with a sample tray protruding from one side. There was a tiny display screen on the top. Doc pulled a sample tube from his satchel and dripped a bit of the contents he’d collected from the serape onto the tray. At the press of a button the sample tray slid into the box and a light on the display began to blink.

  Doc closed the container and placed it on the counter. He pulled the one stool in the room closer to the counter and sat down.

  He watched the light on his device blink more and more rapidly until it stopped flashing altogether. The display showed that the blood sample matched that obtained from the dead girl's blanket and was the same as a sample he’d previously taken from the dead girl herself.

  A scraping noise startled Doc and he spun around to face the door. He gasped in alarm and nearly cried out but was able to control himself when he recognized the man framed by the doorway. He leaned heavily on the counter. “Oh, Colonel, sir, you scared me half to death.” He chuckled weakly.

  The Colonel didn’t look as if he was in a humorous mood. “What's that?” he asked curtly.

  “Huh?” Mason looked confused for a moment and then he replied, “The sample from young Kiro’s serape. It’s a match for the girl's blood.” He nodded toward the covered corpse on the exam table in the center of the room.

  “Hmm,” the Colonel walked into the room and over to the counter. “You knew that it was her blood before you tested it though.”

  “What?“ Mason's confusion appeared to deepen. “I suspected of course but. . .”

  The Colonel cut him off, “You can stop the act. I’ve seen the picture.”

  “Picture?”

  The Colonel leaned so close that Mason leaned back away from him. He could see the fury in the Colonel’s eyes and his confusion rapidly gave way to fear.

  The Colonel pushed the knobby handle of his walking stick up under Mason's jaw. “The sheriff has a picture of you dumping this girl’s body in the power station.”

  Mason's fear became shock and genuine dread. “But I didn’t do. . .”

  The Colonel slapped Mason's face and jabbed the walking stick into his gut, forcing the air from his lungs. Mason dropped to his knees and the Colonel grasped a handful of the hair on his head, pulling his head back so the Doc had to look him in the eyes. “I saw your ring in the picture.”

  Mason, starting to sweat and shake, stammered, “No, no, no. That’s impossible.”

  The Colonel scoffed and backhanded him. The vicious strike sent him sprawling and the Colonel followed it by pushing him onto his back with the tip of his boot. The knob of the walking stick was pushed back under Mason’s chin, making him gag as he chafed against the pressure.

  The Colonel exhaled and lifted the shaken physician to his feet. He allowed Mason a few seconds to regain his composure. “Enough of the games.” He grabbed Mason’s naked right hand. “Where is the ring?” he demanded.

  He coughed weakly before replying, “The ring’s here, in my desk across the hall.”

  The Colonel raised his hand as if preparing another blow and Mason cringed preparing for it to fall.

  Instead the Colonel’s hand dropped to his side and shook his head. “You fool.” He pointed at the doorway. “Go! Get me that ring! Now!”

  Mason scrambled out of the door to his little office across the hall. The Colonel waited next to the covered body of the dead woman. He heard the scrape of the desk drawer which he then heard crash to the floor.

  Mason swore loudly and the Colonel heard him rifling through the contents that had landed on the floor apparently searching for the ring.

  Mason made a sudden exclamation and returned to the Colonel with quickness borne of fear that he might cause further disappointment. He presented the gaudy bauble and the Colonel swiped it from his grasp with a gloved hand before it disappeared into one of his pockets.

  The Colonel pointed the knob of his stick at Mason once again. “The sheriff is expecting a report on this?” indicating the test that was still sitting on the counter. Mason nodded and the Colonel continued, “Now, you listen very carefully. After you deliver the results to the sheriff, you keep your mouth shut.”

  The Colonel reached out and grabbed Mason by a handful of his shirt to physically back up his next statement. “I’ll handle this from here. I’m through with your foolishness and your drunkenness.” He pulled the Doc closer and his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “I told you when you came here that there was to be none of your hunting here in town.”

  Mason stammered, “I, I, I. . . but it is dif. . . dif. . . difficult.”

  “Difficult? That’s the best explanation you can offer?”

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  “Sir, Colonel, I. . .”

  Doc Mason tried to continue but the Colonel was having none of it. “In fact I don’t want an explanation. I want your assurance that this will never happen again.”

  Hope lit up Mason’s eyes, suddenly thinking there was a chance he would survive this encounter. “Nev. . . never, sir, Colonel!”

  The Colonel gave a shallow nod. “Good. Because if you disappoint me again, you’ll wish you were as dead as she is.”

  *****

  Outside the sheriff's office not long after their conversation, Doc Mason and the Colonel met again. The Colonel stepped out of his speeder as the Doc was leaving the office. He’d delivered the results of his test as the Colonel had instructed. Fearing to provoke the Colonel’s ire, he’d proceeded to deliver the report with none of the lackadaisical attitude with which he usually conducted himself.

  As the door closed behind him the Doc briefly caught a stern glance from the Colonel causing him to pause for a split second mid-step. He seemed to receive an unspoken message before hurrying on his way with his eyes now fixed on his boots.

  Behind the Colonel came Glade, Will, and Vilnius also exiting the long, black speeder.

  Glade walked up to the door and opened it, allowing the others to pass inside. He closed the door, staying outside on the porch. He leaned on one of the support posts holding up the porch and lit a cigarillo before shaking the match out and flicking it into the street. He figured the conversation about to take place inside would take some time.

  Inside, Sheriff Ghor had been sitting behind her desk but she rose as the threesome entered, her hand going reflexively to the butt of her blaster.

  The Colonel noted the motion but seemed unperturbed as he slid a chair back from the desk and sat down. “Please, Sheriff, we’re here to talk.”

  Ghor did not sit and she eyed both Vilnius and Will with suspicion. “Talk?” She nodded toward the two still standing, “How about surrender?”

  “An excellent place to start,” said the Colonel as he motioned with two fingers toward the desk. Both Will and Vilnius carefully drew their blasters and placed them on the desk in front of her.

  The sheriff was surprised but kept it from showing in her face. Addressing them she said, “Perfect. Will, Vilnius, you’re under arrest.”

  Vilnius scoffed. “You want us to put ourselves in the cell?”

  Before Ghor could cut loose her acerbic response, the Colonel spoke, his voice cold and hard, “Your silence is all that’s required here, Vilnius.”

  The Ugnought sniffed but didn’t speak further.

  The Colonel pointed back at the sheriff’s chair, “Please sit, Sheriff.” His voice was back to its normal tone.

  Ghor sat down, picking up one of the surrendered weapons from the desk. “What do I owe for this thoughtful gift?”

  The Colonel planted the tip of his stick in the floor and leaned forward over the top of the knob. “I think it’s time to restore some peace, don’t you agree?”

  She merely nodded.

  The Colonel continued, “I happened to speak with Doc Mason earlier and he seemed to believe the medical evidence pointed towards the former deputy’s guilt.”

  Ghor gave a silent nod.

  “So with the apparent guilty party now deceased, justice had been served. We can focus on returning to normal.”

  The sheriff shook her head. “Unfortunately not. There is still the matter of how that justice was dispensed. Mobs don’t replace judges in this town.”

  The Colonel gave her a thin smile. “Agreed. We can’t have vigilante rule.” His expression became stern as he glanced back toward Will and Vilnius. “These two were the main instigators. They’ve told me as much. I suggest they should bear the punishment since they bear the responsibility.”

  Sheriff Ghor considered what the Colonel was saying. Punishing Will and Vilnius could certainly bring this matter to a swift close and should still maintain the authority of her office. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “The punishment would need to fit the severity of their crime.”

  Will’s eyes widened, realizing the implications of the sheriff's statement but kept quiet.

  Vilnius, on the other hand, stepped forward. “I ain’t going to jail!”

  He was about to say more but the tip of the Colonel’s walking stick suddenly came down with sharpness on the top of his left foot. Vilnius let out an involuntary squeal of pain, but took the hint and backed up.

  Sheriff Ghor normally would not have tolerated such a thing in her office but after the previous night she was still angry with him. She let it pass.

  The Colonel continued, “What kind of sentence would you think appropriate?”

  The Sheriff set the blaster back on the desk. Leaning back in her chair, she steepled her fingers in a conscious imitation of a gesture she’d previously seen the Colonel use. “For incitement to violence leading to someone’s death they should be sent up to district jail in Eden, probably for at least twenty years.”

  At the suggested twenty year sentence, Will started coughing, literally choking on the sudden possibility that he’d be taken from his family.

  Vilnius stepped forward again with a sharp intake of breath, but was consigned to silence by the sharp crack of the walking stick striking the wooden floor.

  The Colonel’s voice remained even as he spoke again, “We can’t be without our head maintenance technician for twenty years and we could make a good argument that Will and the others were in temporary loss of their faculties.”

  Even in her anger, Ghor could see the Colonel’s point. “What do you suggest?”

  The Colonel’s face widened into a cruel smile. “I’m thinking of twenty years of community service. When they’re not at work, they need to be actively engaged in significant community improvement projects, starting with a new school house.”

  Ghor started to consider. There were a lot of areas where Vilnius’ and Will’s talents could be put to use but neither of them had actually pulled the trigger so Kiro’s actual killers would still go unpunished. That part that was still distasteful to her.

  She thought back to what the Doc had said about the blood on the serape. The evidence against Kiro had been circumstantial and then there was the matter of the ring they’d seen on the killer’s hand. A ring that had still been yet to be found. If she found that ring she would likely find Lexa’s real killer. Then it occurred to her that if she could find the real murderer that person would bear the real responsibility for Kiro’s death.

  Ghor looked across the desk at the Colonel and with some measure of satisfaction she said, “I’ll recommend it to the judge.”

  The Colonel left the sheriff office with Will and Vilnius in tow. When they reached the speeder, Glade opened the door and the Colonel paused before getting inside. He turned, “You two have work to do.”

  Will nodded and Vilnius snorted.

  “I expect the sheriff will have your next project for you when you finish the new school. And if she doesn’t, I’m sure I can come up with something.”

  The Colonel got into the speeder. Glade followed suit and the speeder left Will and Vilnius standing in the side of the street both sincere in the hope that the sheriff would not run out of ideas.

  *****

  The sun was almost at its zenith when a small procession left the Utopia for the tiny cemetery on a nearby hill. It was led by the pallbearers, six of them, supporting the plain wooden casket with the remains of Lexa inside. The small group behind was led by Holly, the girl’s best friend in life.

  They passed through the wrought iron archway that marked the entry to the shabby graveyard. The stones marking the graves were poorly carved and many of them were weatherbeaten to the point of being illegible. They were arranged in rows that were not at all straight.

  A grave had previously been dug in the dry, dusty earth and a pair of shovels protruded from the pile of dirt that had been removed from the hole.

  With little ceremony the casket was lowered with a pair of ropes into the ground. Once it rested at the bottom, the ropes were withdrawn making a ripping sound against the corners of the wooden box.

  Each member of the somber party filed past the open grave and with solemnity, cast in a handful of dirt.

  Holly was last in the line, tears streaking down her face, as she let the earth in her hand fall.

  Will stepped up next to her and tenderly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She let her head down against his arm and sobbed.

  *****

  Later that same day, on the edge of the desert above her garden, Lucy stood with Walt and Anga. They had made the steep climb to the top of the embankment and had reached the top just as the sun was starting to sink below the horizon far across the wide desolation in front of them.

  Walt sat in his hovering chair cradling an earthen jar containing the ashes of his grandson, Kiro. A single tear ran down his grizzled face into his unkempt, gray beard. Lucy dabbed the tears away from her own eyes, her thoughts dwelling on the young man whom she had once believed to be the bright future of their little town. Her mind reeled at his life tragically cut short.

  Anga rested one supportive hand on Walt’s shoulder and used her other to pull her shawl to the top of her head.

  Walt gave the hand an appreciative pat. His expression seemed to show a tangle of regrets.

  Walt sighed and opened the jar. Without fanfare he scattered the ashes which were caught by the warm, late afternoon breeze and were borne away across the dunes.