Chapter 30.2: Inspector Mokt

The three of them, and an entourage a short distance behind, headed back to the peacemaker headquarters Minkus and Penny had only just gotten free of. Concentrating, Penny worked hard to keep from fiddling with the pistol at her hip. That, she knew, would not be received well by this law-enforcement crowd.

Crossing the plaza, they passed once more through the huge, stone entryway and into the central foyer, as illumined and verdant as they’d left it not many minutes before. At the back of the broad chamber, they stepped into a surprisingly tall hallway, which Penny concluded had to have been built with golems in mind. Seeming to follow the echoes of their own footsteps down the long, sterile hallway, they passed several closed doors before approaching a little, bat-eared asura, standing to the side of the hall in the blue and gray that all the peacemakers wore. He pressed a hand to the pad of buttons beside him, and another of those stone doorways popped into the wall and slid open, revealing an equally sterile room just on the other side. One by one, they stepped through, in the same order they’d been in all the way across the plaza. Of course now Penny had to duck.

Just as it had seemed from her limited view from the outside, it was a cold room, and not just in terms of its temperature. It housed a single stonework table and a handful of those child-sized chairs Penny had so hoped she’d seen the last of. The light bars were dimmer and far fewer here than anywhere else in the facility. And the pair of shackles bolted to the center of the stone table spoke to more than just friendly conversations occurring here.

Penny gritted her teeth. Nothing was ever easy.

“Officer,” the inspector said to the peacemaker at the door, “please acquire another chair for us.”

“No, wait,” Penny said, stopping the little man before he made it past the door. She had no intention of getting herself stuck in one of those toy seats again. “I’ll just stand.”

“Excelsior,” the inspector said plainly, waving the other officer away. “Now,” the inspector said, turning to Minkus, Wepp, and Penny, “please explain to me the nature of your relationships with the suspect and victim.”

Minkus did most of the answering, as helpful as ever. Penny could only shake her head, astonished that they were in this place telling the same ridiculous, shameful story all over again.

For the most part, she let Minkus convey the story. She had only to clarify the duration of their time with Skixx and, despite her efforts to avoid it, the more precise details of her arrangement with him. It was perhaps the events in the room at the inn that Minkus was most accurate with, and though Penny was glad not to have to correct anything he said, she was also abashed at the retelling. She knew it shouldn’t bother her—what did it matter how she’d handled Wepp?—but she couldn’t seem to stop the guilty heat from rising in her cheeks. It was infuriating, which made her face redden all the more.

Finally, story time ended, and Penny leaned back against the wall. She hadn’t realized how tensely she’d been standing throughout it. The inspector only mused over the details, as they sat in silence, waiting.

“Look, that other guy freed us already,” Penny blurted, tightening her arms across her chest and shifting her weight. “We let Wepp loose, just like he told us. We’re square. And obviously we had nothing to do with what happened to Skixx and those other people out there. You can’t keep us here.”

“I am aware,” the inspector agreed, his eyes only just flitting past her. He set his attention on the two asura at the table instead. “I am not holding you for any crime, confirmed or assumed. In fact, I am not holding you at all; I’m requisitioning your voluntary assistance in a matter of justice for which you may hold pertinent knowledge, starting with this.” He drew a small card from the leather sleeve at his hip and laid it in the center of the table, thrusting it forward with a finger.

Minkus and Wepp leaned in to see, and despite herself, Penny moved closer as well. The little jerk was snubbing her, but that didn’t mean she was any less curious what the object was. She knew almost immediately that it was the thing the inspector had pulled off Skixx’s body back in the plaza, but she still didn’t know what it was. Rectangular and covered in those asuran glyphs she’d been copying for Minkus just the night before, it looked like nothing more than an information card of some sort, hardly the kind of thing that seemed to her to be of any importance.

Penny waited for any one of them to get to the question, but of course none of them did. “I don’t get it,” she finally said. “What is that thing?”

Minkus caught Penny’s eye, clearly as unaware as she was,  but the inspector ignored her, watching Wepp’s expression with great interest.

“Uh, yes,” Minkus said, echoing Penny’s curiosity as he turned his attention to the inspector again. “I don’t understand either. Is it a krewe tag? A club card? Something else?”

“Something,” the inspector said in a low voice. “It was found on your friend’s body.”

“Yeah, we saw you grab it,” Penny muttered. “Also, not our friend.”

The Inspector settled back in his little chair, and its steel feet squeaked gently against the polished stone floor. One by one, he eyed them each in turn, but his focus settled once more on Wepp. “I was hoping one of you could tell me more about this,” he said.

To this point, Wepp had remained silent, except for the occasional sniff or whimper he still seemed unable to quash. Suddenly, though, he came alive, lunging to take the card. He inspected it closely, and with a huff, he pressed it back down onto the table between them and set his hands back in his lap. “That,” he said indignantly, “is not Skixx’s identification, as I expressed before.”

Mokt only nodded thoughtfully, letting his gaze pass on to Minkus as he stroked at his chin. “And you are certain you don’t recognize what this is?”

Minkus shook his head, giving that genuine uncertainty that was so very much him. “I suppose it’s an identification chip, from— somewhere?”

The inspector looked right past Penny before turning his attention back to Wepp.

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” Penny huffed under her breath. “Thanks for asking.”

“But you recognize it,” Mokt said, attending once more to Wepp. “Curious.”

For a moment, the word hung in the air, the inspector silently glaring at Wepp. Following the inspector’s gaze, Penny and Minkus both turned to Wepp also.

He must have felt their eyes, because with a light sigh, he finally said what the inspector wanted. “That is an Inquest identification chip.”

The inspector nodded, Minkus frowned, and Wepp retreated into his chair.

“And you know that absolutely?” Mokt asked.

Wepp nodded. “But it is not Skixx’s,” he went on, taking that defiant tone again. “I do not know who it belongs to, but it is not Skixx’s.”

“And how can you be certain of that?” the inspector asked, resting his elbows on the table. He glanced quickly at Penny and Minkus. “These two don’t have a skritt’s intuition what this is, but you know with certainty both what it is and to whom it did not belong? I trust you see how extraordinarily suspicious that is.”

This wasn’t Penny’s issue. She had no reason to care how any of this went down, as long as she and Minkus could get out of it unscathed and unincarcerated. Still, as she stood there, leaning against the wall at the far end of the table, she couldn’t shake her waxing curiosity. Why, amid the chaos outside, was this little card so damn important?

Before she could stop herself, the words bubbled out. “Someone want to catch up the stupid human in the room? What’s this Inquest thing?” Everyone’s attention shifted to her, and she squirmed. “Gods. It’s just a question.”

The inspector leaned back once more in his chair, his eyes shifting back and forth between Wepp and Penny. He sighed, clearly lowering himself to answer her question. “The Inquest is a megakrewe that espouses—at best—a fluid notion of ethics in research. At worst, they’re a monstrous organization, threatening everyone and everything that may be of benefit to their pursuits. Furthermore, unless I’ve gravely misinterpreted the data, which I have not, the Inquest is also the megakrewe to which the victim and Wepp belong as members.”

Penny let the dramatic silence hang a moment, but no one spoke. At least the inspector was talking to her now. “Fine,” she said, “So, a megakrewe is what, just a bigger-than-usual bunch of—”

Leaning as far from the table as he seemed capable of, Wepp interrupted, pointing at the card. “That is not Skixx’s chip. I can assure you of that.” The eggplantish asura sat upright in his chair, suddenly aggravated again. “You’ve already surmised more than I can convincingly deny, so it’s worthless to try. Inquest affiliation is entirely legal, so any effort on my part to push a ruse is doubly pointless.”

Mokt nodded. “So you admit you’re—”

“Yes,” Wepp interrupted again, continuing his thought. “I am an Inquest affiliate, as was Skixx, but that is not his identification chip. Not only does it have another operative’s number—I’ve memorized both my number and my partner’s—” he choked a little at the word. “But I know from innumerable points of personal experience that Skixx absolutely, unequivocally never took his identification chip on field assignments. Never. Suspicious as he was, my partner believed its potential discovery would raise more questions—of this exact nature, in fact—than having the chip outside an Inquest facility could possibly be worth.”

“Field missions, you say?” Mokt asked, squinting at Wepp. He picked up the card from the table and flipped it in his hand thoughtfully, raising it before his thick spectacles. “What sort of field missions are you referring to?”

“Again, Inspector, it is entirely legal to—”

“Yes,” Mokt agreed, “it is entirely legal to be a member of the Inquest. It is a council-recognized krewe just like any other, despite any persuasions the greater populace may hold about their ethical fiber.” He put the card once more on the table and stood from his chair, circling behind it. “So, if that chip wasn’t his, and Skixx didn’t want to be publicly recognized as Inquest, why do you surmise he had it?”

Wepp opened his mouth but refrained from speaking for a second again.

“I do not have all day to parry wits with you,” the inspector groaned.

Sighing, Wepp considered his words. “Motive, I can’t speak to,” he said slowly. “Not with any empirical certainty, anyway. It’s possible Skixx carried that chip of his own accord. Maybe he had it to indict someone else for an assignment he was tasked with? I really have very little idea.”

The inspector’s brow rose above his glasses. “Are you implying he anticipated his own apprehension and wished to still be recognized as some other affiliate of the Inquest?” He leveled a searching gaze on Wepp, making careful study of his response.

That seemed to perplex him. It was an expression Penny didn’t recall seeing on his face at any point during their own interrogation.

“Well, no— yes,” Wepp said, “Perhaps? What I mean to say is— it is an unlikely scheme, even nonsensical, I admit. But my partner always had a propensity toward schemes I would have considered foolhardy.” The plump asura slumped forward a little in his seat, a grin touched the corner of his mouth. “He was quite odd.”

Penny shook her head in disgust. This little idiot really did like Skixx, though there was no possible way that was reciprocated. The murderer had likely done Wepp more of a service in dying than he ever had in life.

The inspector mused at what Wepp had said, tapping absently on the table. Wepp just stared off, and Minkus’ eyes flitted sadly from one person to the next around the room. Penny had wondered at the expressions Minkus sometimes wore, in places and situations that made no sense to her. This time, though, with these people and in this circumstance, she thought she felt a hint of his weight herself. But why, and at what, she had no idea. She shook it away uncomfortably.

“OK,” Penny said, cutting the silence, “so you’re saying these Inquest jerks throw each other to the ettins when it’s convenient?” As she said it, she heard her own words and scowled contemptuously. “Yeah, never mind. Skixx would absolutely do that.”

Wepp looked at her for an uncomfortably long moment, considering something. She glared back at him, but it had no affect. He wasn’t really paying her any mind at all; the little weirdo was somewhere else entirely.

“Let’s approach this from a new vector,” the inspector said. “You say you don’t know why Skixx was here in Rata Sum? Because he was supposed to be at a facility in—”

His words were cut short by the loud sound of stone grinding on steel. The four of them turned to see the stone door sliding open once more, admitting Peacemaker Hazz and a smaller female asura, the one who had forcefully interjected herself into the inspector’s investigation back at the crime scene. Beneath her dreadlocks, her face was pale, almost porcelain, and bright blue eyes leered with frustration at everyone in the room, just as they had earlier.

“Yes, Officer Hazz?” Mokt asked, acknowledging the interruption coldly. “What is it?”

Hazz looked sheepish. “You requested I bring the witnesses in for questioning. This is the first, Alena Maru. The others have been directed to holding.”

At the mention of this newcomer’s name, Penny noticed that all eyes focused on her. Even Minkus seemed particularly curious.

Penny had to admit that something about this asura was different. Though her height, weight, face, and hairstyle all appeared common enough, her walk didn’t. To one degree or another, every other asura she’d met had that same floppy stride Minkus did. This Alena Maru, though, walked sturdily: upright and dignified, clearly set on getting to where she intended.

That apparently wasn’t what anyone else had noticed, though. “A surname,” Mokt mused. “Quite uncommon.”

“Yeah, it is,” the female agreed, nosing around the peacemaker in the doorway. “But I really hope that’s not why you brought me here. My friend, if you recall, is dead.”

“Indeed he is.” Inspector Mokt put a hand to his temple. That seemed to put him back in his established rhythm. “Peacemaker Hazz, perhaps I should have been more specific in my instructions. Take Alena and the others all to holding, and I’ll send for them as needed. I assume there is much more information to gather from them, and I would prefer to do it in an orderly manner.”

“Oh. Apologies,” Hazz popped, bowing. “I misunderstood your intent.” Gesturing the witness to follow him, Hazz headed back into the brightly lit hall.

“Wait, Officer,” the inspector called. He passed a quick scan across the other faces in the room. “On subsequent consideration, please take these two as well.” He waved a hand at Minkus and Penny. “They’ve given me their backgrounds with the suspect, and that seems to be the sum of their knowledge on the issue.”

“So, we get to go now?” Penny asked.

The inspector shook his head, shifting his gaze from her to Minkus. “Not yet. If you’re agreeable to the notion, I would like to detain you in holding until I finish discussing with your friend here.”

“Not our friend,” she replied, glaring once more at Wepp. “And do we actually have a choice in this matter?”

Minkus stepped in front of her. “What Penny means to say,” he interjected, “is that we will— well, we are happy to help however we can.” It wasn’t what she’d meant, but for Minkus, she let it go.

Mokt nodded, gesturing them across the table toward Hazz. Together, they stepped back out into the hall, and the stone door slid shut between them and Wepp.