Black Cat Weekly #35

By Fred Saberhagen, Eve Fisher, Sarah R. Shaber and 7 more

I mentioned to BCW's acquiring editor Michael Bracken that I was enjoying the mystery/science fiction crossover stories he had been selecting for BCW, many of them originals, and he confessed to challenging writers to come up with stories that mixed the two genres. I thought, Aha! So that’s where they have all been coming from! It’s a Good Thing in my opinion. And this issue we have another one—“For Blood,” by Eve Fisher, which works well as both science fiction and mystery. 
Another of our acquiring editors, Barb Goffman, was nominated for not one, but two Agatha Awards at the Malice Domestic mystery convention last weekend. It’s hard to win when you have two stories up at the same time in the same category, as she did. I kept my fingers crossed for a tie, so she’d have two Agatha Awards this year, but it wasn’t to be. Next year! The good news is, she affirmed her enthusiasm for editing for BCW, and this issue she has yet another great mystery story: “Death of a Bible Salesman,” by Sarah R. Shaber (who I suspect of watching Paper Moon in part for her inspiration. I have a fondness for stories about grifters and conmen.) And speaking of conmen, we have another rare tale by Christopher B. Booth featuring conman deluxe Mr. Amos Clackworthy. Plus mysteries by Hulbert Footner and Hal Charles (a solve-it-yourself puzzler). Plus a historical adventure by western author W.C. Tuttle.

On the science fiction front, we have Darrell Schweitzer’s 1979 interview with Fred Saberhagen. If you’re a fan of his Berserker series, there’s a lot here about it. Michael Swanwick returns to our pages with “The House of Dreams,” a fantasy tale selected by Cynthia Ward. Plus we have classics by Malcolm Jameson and Lester del Rey (both from the Golden Age of Astounding Science Fiction) plus a dark science fiction tale by Henry Kuttner from Weird Tales. This issue also has the final 3 episodes of Mel Gilden’s novel, The Case by Case Casebook of Emily Silverwood. Great Fun.
   Here’s the lineup:

Non-Fiction:

Speaking with Fred Saberhagen, an Interview by Darrell Schweitzer [interview]

Mysteries / Suspense / Adventure:

For Blood, by Eve Fisher [Michael Bracken Presents short story]

Booked For Murder, by Hal Charles [solve-it-yourself mystery]

Death of a Bible Salesman, by Sarah R. Shaber [Barb Goffman Presents short story]

The Case of Luke Darrow, by Hulbert Footner [novel]

When Mr. Clackworthy Needed a Bracer, by Christopher B. Booth [novelette]

Cinders, by W.C. Tuttle [short story]

Science Fiction & Fantasy:

For Blood, by Eve Fisher [Michael Bracken Presents short story]

The House of Dreams, by Michael Swanwick [Cynthia Ward Presents short story]

Tricky Tonnage, by Malcolm Jameson [short story]

Raider of the Spaceways, by Henry Kuttner [novelette]

The Renegade, by Lester del Rey [short story]

The Case by Case Casebook of Emily Silverwood, by Mel Gilden (Part 4 of 4) [Serial Novel]

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wildside Press
• Release date: May 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667601021

Book preview

Table of Contents

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

THE CAT’S MEOW

TEAM BLACK CAT

FOR BLOOD, by Eve Fisher

BOOKED FOR MURDER, by Hal Charles

DEATH OF A BIBLE SALESMAN, by Sarah R. Shaber

THE CASE OF LUKE DARROW, by Hulbert Footner

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

WHEN MR. CLACKWORTHY NEEDED A BRACER, by Christopher B. Booth

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CINDERS, by W.C. Tuttle

SPEAKING WITH FRED SABERHAGEN, an Interview by Darrell Schweitzer

THE HOUSE OF DREAMS, by Michael Swanwick

TRICKY TONNAGE, by Malcolm Jameson

RAIDER OF THE SPACEWAYS, by Henry Kuttner

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

THE RENEGADE, by Lester del Rey

THE CASE BY CASE CASEBOOK OF EMILY SILVERWOOD, by Mel Gilden

Case #10: They Meet By Night

Case #11: School For Grouches

Case #12: The Last Bus Out of Town

COPYRIGHT INFORMATION

Copyright © 2022 by Wildside Press LLC.

Published by Wildside Press, LLC.

wildsidepress.com | bcmystery.com

*

For Blood appears here for the first time and is copyright © 2022 by Eve Fisher.

A Jar of Charity is copyright © 2022 by Hal Blythe and Charlie Sweet. Reprinted by permission of the authors.

Death of a Bible Salesman is copyright © 2015 by Sarah R. Shaber. Originally published in Murder Under the Oaks: The 2015 Bouchercon Anthology. Reprinted by permission of the author.

When Mr. Clackworthy Needed a Bracer was originally published in Detective Story Magazine, January 21, 1922.

Cinders, by W.C. Tuttle, was originally published in Adventure,December 10, 1924.

Speaking with Fred Saberhagen is © 1979 by Darrell Schweitzer. Originally published in Thrust, Summer 1979. Reprinted by permission of the author.

The House of Dreams" is copyright © 2013 by Michael Swanwick. Originally published by Tor.com. Reprinted by permission of the author.

Tricky Tonnage is copyright © 1944 by Malcolm Jameson. Originally published in Astounding Science Fiction, December 1944.

The Renegade is copyright © 1943, 1971 by Lester del Rey. Originally published in Astounding, July 1943, under the pseudonym Marion Henry. Reprinted by permission of the author’s estate.

Raider of the Spaceways by Henry Kuttner originally appeared in Weird Tales, July 1937.

The Case by Case Casebook of Emily Silverwood (Part 4 of 4) is copyright © 2022 by Mel Gilden and appears here for the first time.

THE CAT’S MEOW

Welcome to Black Cat Weekly #35.

I had a great time at the Malice Domestic mystery convention last weekend. I got to spend time with our contributing editors Michael Bracken and Barb Goffman, meet many new friends, and sell copies of the convention book (Malice Domestic: Mystery Most Diabolical) in the dealer’s room. In the course of things, I mentioned to Michael Bracken that I was enjoying the mystery/science fiction crossover stories he had been acquiring for BCW, many of them originals, and he admitted that he had been challenging writers to come up with stories that mixed the two genres. I thought, Aha! So that’s where they have all been coming from! It’s a Good Thing in my opinion. And this issue we have another one—For Blood, by Eve Fisher, which works well as both science fiction and mystery.

Barb Goffman was nominated for not one, but two Agatha Awards at Malice Domestic. I joined her at her table at the awards ceremony. It’s hard to win when you have two stories up at the same time in the same category, as she did. I kept my fingers crossed for a tie, so she’d have two Agatha Awards this year, but it wasn’t to be. Next year! The good news is, she affirmed her enthusiasm for editing for BCW, and this issue she has yet another great mystery story: Death of a Bible Salesman, by Sarah R. Shaber (who I suspect of watching Paper Moon in part for her inspiration. I have a fondness for stories about grifters and conmen.) And speaking of conmen, we have another rare tale by Christopher B. Booth featuring conman deluxe Mr. Amos Clackworthy. Plus mysteries by Hulbert Footner and Hal Charles (a solve-it-yourself puzzler). Plus a historical adventure by western author W.C. Tuttle.

On the science fiction front, we have Darrell Schweitzer’s 1979 interview with Fred Saberhagen. If you’re a fan of his Berserker series, there’s a lot here about it. Michael Swanwick returns to our pages with The House of Dreams, a fantasy tale selected by Cynthia Ward. Plus we have classics by Malcolm Jameson and Lester del Rey (both from the Golden Age of Astounding Science Fiction) plus a dark science fiction tale by Henry Kuttner from Weird Tales. This issue also has the final 3 episodes of Mel Gilden’s novel, The Case by Case Casebook of Emily Silverwood. Great Fun.

Here’s the lineup:

Non-Fiction:

Speaking with Fred Saberhagen, an Interview by Darrell Schweitzer [interview]

Mysteries / Suspense / Adventure:

For Blood, by Eve Fisher [Michael Bracken Presents short story]

Booked For Murder, by Hal Charles [solve-it-yourself mystery]

Death of a Bible Salesman, by Sarah R. Shaber [Barb Goffman Presents short story]

The Case of Luke Darrow, by Hulbert Footner [novel]

When Mr. Clackworthy Needed a Bracer, by Christopher B. Booth [novelette]

Cinders, by W.C. Tuttle [short story]

Science Fiction & Fantasy:

For Blood, by Eve Fisher [Michael Bracken Presents short story]

The House of Dreams, by Michael Swanwick [Cynthia Ward Presents short story]

Tricky Tonnage, by Malcolm Jameson [short story]

Raider of the Spaceways, by Henry Kuttner [novelette]

The Renegade, by Lester del Rey [short story]

The Case by Case Casebook of Emily Silverwood, by Mel Gilden (Part 4 of 4) [Serial Novel]

—John Betancourt

Editor, Black Cat Weekly

TEAM BLACK CAT

EDITOR

John Betancourt

ASSOCIATE EDITORS

Barb Goffman

Michael Bracken

Darrell Schweitzer

Cynthia M. Ward

PRODUCTION

Sam Hogan

Karl Wurf

FOR BLOOD,

by Eve Fisher

Vera walked into the sally port and locked the outside doors behind her. Bauer was looking at the video feed of visitors leaving the public chapel.

One hundred eighty-nine, he said. And none of them ever shut up.

They did when Mother Colonna prayed that they might all depart in peace, Vera replied with a twisted grin.

Why do they even come? Bauer asked. Why don’t they just stay home and hook in? Virtual’s the same as being here. What’s the point?

Well, there’s always the hope that something special will happen that only they will see, Vera said. Maybe we’ll let them into the hospice room. Maybe we’ll start screaming. Run amok and start killing each other with scalpels.

Bauer tensed, and Vera could have kicked herself. He was new, still in shock from his Medprot rejection, still far from being adjusted enough to determine if he would make a good community member. Or not. She patted him on the shoulder. Rejects were a pain in the ass.

Is it true Mother Miriam refused antibiotics? he asked.

Mm-hmm. She’s eighty-two, and she’s been frail for years. He stared at the empty chapel on screen as Vera set the guardians on the doors. She’s ready. You’ll see. Everyone who watches can see. That’s one of the reason we allow all this. Well, that and the money.

Is it true that you had your Medprot removed?

Yes.

How could you do it?

She looked down at her hands, the thinning skin, ropy veins, twisting knuckles. A long time ago, I read that ‘there comes a time when there is nothing left but time—nothing.’ One day, I saw what he meant.

Was that Benguiat?

Her eyes went cold. No. Come on.

She opened the door to the hospice room, and they surged onto the sensor screens of millions. Mother Colonna was holding one of Mother Miriam’s hands and Infirmarian Winifred was giving her a drink of water. All hospice patients were injected with internal sensors that allowed a full virtual experience of dying, and those with the right software could feel the water going down her throat. Mother Miriam, who had once been head of the community, had described it as A festering immortality sniffing its own sores. She had been much fiercer than she looked.

Alexa, assistant infirmarian, stood up and called Vera. She’s asking for you.

The assistants and other novices made room for Vera as she asked, How is it, Mother? (Audio and closed-captioning were also provided.)

It’s heavy on my chest, Mother Miriam said, in a low, tired voice, but it lightens to my soul. The Blessing.

The Blessing, Vera replied. Her cell rang, and she stepped back. With your permission.

Dr. Johnson here. I’m at the front gate. Let me in.

The doctor, Vera hissed to Mother Colonna.

Try to keep his entourage down.

Can I come? Bauer asked.

Mother Colonna inclined her head.

Come on, Vera sighed. As they went down the hallway, she added, No matter what, not a word of invitation.

What? Why?

Once invited, consent can be claimed. To anything. She tapped the control panel by the main entrance, opening the first window Bauer had ever seen in the community walls. She sighed at the crowd outside. Only Dr. Johnson, she said into the microphone. The long bargaining session ended with him being allowed to bring three in. If you must. Names and confirmation scans, please.

Bauer read the pop-ups:

Ladislaw Lad Johnson, MD, PhD in Applied Genetic Engineering, 2PhD in Semiotic Semantics, 3PhD…

…Weiss Joaquin, MD, PhD in Applied Genetic Engineering, 2Ph. Stathics, 12th year Medprot intern…

…Yang Guifei, PhD Criminal Justice, 2PhD Stathics, NSD agent…

…Sylfaen…

At which point the pop-ups went wild: but Sylfaen was so beautiful, so famous, so adored, her career had been so successful, so varied, so long, that there was only room for her latest highlights.

"I saw her on For Blood! Right before I came. Bauer hissed. What’s she doing here?"

Slumming, Vera replied, checking the door scanners. If you must, she said.

Dr. Johnson opened the door from the outside and stepped in. I sometimes think those are the only words you know.

I am but the guardian at the threshold, she replied, as Yang released sensors and Weiss’s eyes went to Vera and Bauer’s throats. Sylfaen gave them all one cool look and took Dr. Johnson’s arm.

Follow me, the doctor said. I know my way around.

Vera sealed the entrance, then sealed them all inside the hospice room. Yang let more sensors fly, while the rest went with Dr. Johnson over to Mother Miriam.

What happened to her? Weiss asked.

Pneumonia, aggravated by age, Dr. Johnson replied. Your first encounter with biological aging?

I’ve done virtuals, but…

They all looked at Mother Miriam, dried to a wrinkled stick, the scars still showing from the fifty-year old Medprot removal. Sylfaen made a face. On her it looked sexy, but then everything did. It was what her face had been designed for.

How long does she have? Weiss asked.

Midnight, Dr. Johnson said. Maybe. You can tell by the way her breathing is starting to change, and, while it’s not particularly scientific, his eyes twinkled, playing for the sensors, over the last one hundred fifty years I’ve noticed that for some reason, when humans die naturally, they pluck at themselves, at their clothing, at their chest. I have no idea why, but it’s almost infallible. And there are a couple of other signs. He began to describe them, graphically, for the viewing audience.

* * * *

Two hours later, Mother Miriam was still gasping for air. The novices were posting each other, they thought surreptitiously, mostly of Sylfaen. Vera and the other seniors ignored it: it was as good a distraction as any from reality and fear.

Sylfaen drifted over to Dr. Johnson and whispered, I need to get out of here.

Sure. I’ve got to stay. Why don’t you go on back to the hotel?

By myself? I can’t do that. No, I’ll wait. But isn’t there somewhere here that I could go?

Dr. Johnson turned to Mother Colonna and whispered a request.

She can use one of the guest rooms, Mother Colonna said, glancing at Vera.

Vera got up. I’ll escort you.

Thank you.

Bauer leaped up to go with them, but Mother Colonna gestured him back. The two women walked down the hallway, sensors tagging along.

In here, Vera said, opening a door.

Inside, Sylfaen looked around and asked. How long have you been here?

Twenty years.

Sylfaen nodded. How old were you when you came?

I’d had a medical protection device for a hundred and ten years.

And you had it removed… Sylfaen eyed her throat, meditatively. I might have known you. Who were you?

No one as famous as you, Vera assured her.

Sylfaen smiled. Still…I’m sure we crossed paths at a party. Why didn’t you let that young man come along? He wanted to.

I thought you might be tired of fans.

Mmm. He’s a Reject, isn’t he? And the others, the young ones by the bed?

Some are. Some were born here. We have a transition house here, where rejects are given time to adjust. Make decisions.

So they can leave?

Any time they want. Anyone can.

Or they can stay. Sylfaen’s voice trailed away.

Yes. If everything’s suitable.

And if they stay, what happens?

They live, Vera said with a patience she did not feel. Normal lives. Work, family, art. Life.

And death.

Vera’s patience collapsed. Yes, but at least they won’t be growing spare parts in an RT lab. Now, is there anything you need before I get back?

Sylfaen glanced around the room again. It was clean, but not particularly enticing. No windows.

There’s a screen. Vera waved it on. Full access to anything you want. She pointed to the minibar, the bathroom. Food, drink, toilet, bath. Oh, and real books. Old fashioned but fun. Over here.

How lovely. I’m sure I’ll be fine.

There are also full sensors, Vera warned. And I monitor them. If you call your lord, or any outsider, I will come.

* * * *

Bauer looked disappointed when only Vera returned.

What’s she doing? he asked.

Probably throwing up, Vera replied.

Mother wants us to join in the prayers, Alexa said.

Time passed slowly. Weiss got in everyone’s way. The sensors were worse than flies. Agent Yang stood by the doorway, her orange eyes staring at nothing, like a cat’s. Bauer and the other newbies were restless. Everyone, including Dr. Johnson, went out for a break: bathroom, coffee, beer, maybe something stronger. They all took ages to return. Bauer wasn’t with them, and Vera got up to go look for him. As soon as she crossed the threshold she felt the cold.

Over the guest room door a red light was glowing. Her heart skipped a beat. She sent an intruder signal to Mother Colonna and slammed on all the lights. A shadow flickered and vanished. She grew colder every minute. The bitch. The stupid, thoughtless, senseless bitch…

The guest room door was open. For once she was glad of the sensors floating around her. Whatever happened would be recorded. Not that she was going to chase after a cloaked intruder. A red ribbon streamed from the door, darkening as it came. When she looked inside she started screaming, not in fear, but absolute bloody rage.

SYLFAEN MURDERED AT ST. LAZARUS!

…throat slashed…

…Medprot implant torn out…

…Reverend Robert Hartman: Only possible in aberrant community that rejects life…

Should St. Lazarus be shut down? Vote now!

NSD Chief Benguiat passed through the guardians on the doors as if they weren’t there, and for him, they weren’t. He looked at Sylfaen’s mutilated body on the bed, Bauer lying unconscious on the floor. Behind him, Dr. Johnson, who’d lunged towards Bauer, was in Assistant Parker’s efficient chokehold.

You don’t understand, Dr. Johnson gasped. He was—get away from me! But Parker’s grip was unbreakable. You don’t understand! Dr. Johnson repeated. "I’ve got to get out of here! I have official reports to make! I am expected," he hissed.

Nothing to me. Benguiat replied, and ordered: Put him in ES. Block all public access immediately to lazarus.xcls.org. Download everything on a secured feed. Add software as needed so we can get a clear video. Simultaneous download to me. A monitor flowered into existence, an image emerged: the hallway, eye-level, and into the Extern’s Office.

Audio? Parker shook her head. Of course. Everything here is outdated. Of course, download it. What do I have to do, send a requisition? Parker cleared her throat. What?

Parker glanced at Dr. Johnson.

Take him to the hospice room and lock him up with the rest.

I need to talk to you, Benguiat! Dr. Johnson cried.

Lad, I trust the sensors more than your tongue. I already have your download.

You need to know— Parker silenced him and frog-marched him out.

* * * *

In the hospice room, the residents and newbies were clustered around Mother Miriam’s body. Benguiat looked at all of them with distaste.

Mother Colonna got up and said, I would like to be with Bauer. In fact, I insist on it.

No, Benguiat replied. I do not trust your protective instincts.

May we at least prepare Mother Miriam for burial? she asked in an unsteady voice.

I’d say the sooner the better, Benguiat replied. He finally addressed Vera. Don’t you have anything to say?

Mother— Vera reached over just as Mother Colonna collapsed.

It’s not a heart attack, Winifred reported after examining her. She’s exhausted and hasn’t had enough to eat. She needs rest, food, and calm.

Vera nodded. She turned to Benguiat and asked, May we please transfer her back into the Community where she can rest and recover? Surely you can’t think she had anything to do with Sylfaen.

You’d be acting superior here?

Yes.

He shrugged.

Mother Miriam’s body—washed and shrouded—and Mother Colonna were both taken by the bodyguards, under agent/scanner supervision and the interns’ intense curiosity, to the Community door and handed over. The community members who remained were shaken, tearful and exhausted, even after protein bars and juice. The outsiders, fully recovered and calm thanks to the antidepressants and serotonins their Medprots had automatically delivered, went into an online trance and stayed there. Vera, more in spite than spirit, led the Lazareans in prayers, but kept an eye on the Hospice monitor. When the interns’ downloads were made available, they all quit praying and started watching.

Not that the downloads were that fascinating: all alike, no matter the POV. It was all in the hospice room, whispering, sitting, shifting, walking. They headed to go out to smoke, drink, talk, and Yang and another had a quickie against the back wall. Then they came back.

None of Sylfaen’s, Alexa said.

Security, probably. Try to breach it, would you? Vera asked.

You know, there’s something wrong about all of this, Winifred said. It reminds me of a story I read back in school, a very old murder mystery, where someone said a man had come to be killed. And it’s like, that’s what Sylfaen did. I mean, what was Sylfaen, of all people, doing here?

Doing Dr. Johnson, Alexa said. Check this out.

Dr. Johnson’s POV: glance at interns, out to the guest rooms.

Door opens: Bauer, curled up on the bed, rocking. I’m sorry.

Door closes.

Next door opens: Sylfaen, naked, stretching.

What took you so long?

I… Laughter. Focus on her breasts. Right now, I can’t remember.

This next part is graphic, Alexa whispered.

I’ve had sex, Vera whispered back, and watched as Dr. Johnson’s hands began moving down Sylfaen’s torso. Her body brought into an extreme close up; a dark-hollowed ocean of skin. Various movements of swollen flesh and then Dr. Johnson’s POV pulled back, focus on Sylfaen’s smiling face. Out the door, down the hallway, to the interns—

What do you think? Alexa asked.

I think I’ve had better sex than that, Winifred said.

So have I. And it’s ridiculous. He just left? Vera replied.

They all turned to look at Dr. Johnson, earbudded and smiling.

Good point, Alexa said, and restarted the video.

Allow me, Yang said. She analyzed the upload, and :Corrupted: showed up before and after every door. Patched.

Alexa turned and called out, "Hey, doc! Where did you nail her?" He didn’t even blink.

Vera marched over and touched him. He flushed. What? What is it?

We just saw the download of you and Sylfaen screwing. Why did you post a fake? What’s—

What are you talking about? I haven’t posted anything!

The agents parted to let in Benguiat. What’s going on now?

Dr. Johnson posted corrupt files of fake fornication, Yang said.

Benguiat started laughing.

With Sylfaen, Vera said. Show him. I’m sure there’s a profit motive somewhere.

I’ll make a note of it for future charges, Benguiat said.

I said I didn’t have anything to do with that! the doctor declared.

Shut up, Lad, Benguiat ordered.

Why don’t you tell her to shut up? Dr. Johnson barked back. Don’t you have any control over her anymore?

No, Benguiat replied, and something in his expression made Dr. Johnson sit back down.

Benguiat turned back to Vera. We need to talk now. He called down a privacy screen and continued, Sylfaen’s throat was cut, her Medprot removed. Bauer Cartwright had time to do it. He was bloody when we found him. He had, of course, no sensors to give us a download, and he is currently noncommunicative. I would like you to give him to me.

What do you mean, give him to you? Vera asked. You can take him without asking my permission.

"Technically, I can’t. According to treaty, St. Lazarus is an independent state under the absolute authority of its Abba. No one can remove a member of your community without your permission. Even a novice. That was settled seventy-five years ago in State v. Francis Two Bulls. The Supreme Court ruled that novices are to be considered as full members of the community, at the Abbatial command of St. Lazarus."

I’m aware of the precedent, but Francis Two Bulls wasn’t suspected of murder, and I’m not the Abba.

You are in command here, today, right now. I am going strictly by the rules on this one. I can build a good case against Bauer. You know he’s a Medprot failure?

Of course I do. Most of our members are.

Do you know what his major was? Vera shook her head. It was applied genetic engineering, with a DPhil in implant surgery. He would have known exactly where—

"We all know where—" she interrupted.

Her Medprot was and how to remove it quickly. Of course, you could have killed her.

Me? Why would I? And I’d be covered in blood if I had.

He half-closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Mmm. Nothing but your own. That sweet, sweet smell… And you were never homicidal. A bit controlling— Vera shook her head. Anyway, your Bauer is a Medprot failure, with—I am certain—the accompanying bitterness, resentment, fear, anger, aberrant behavior, the whole nine yards. You agree, I take him away, and everything’s back to normal.

No, Vera protested. I want proof that he did anything other than walk into hell.

Who else could have done it?

What about her lord?

What about him? Benguiat asked.

He’s here. We had an intruder alert, and I saw him. His shadow.

Of course he’s here. His protégé was murdered. She called for him as she died. I’d do as much for you and we haven’t been linked for…

Twenty years.

It shows, Benguiat said.

She ignored him. Perhaps he killed her.

Motive?

Perhaps she came here to escape him. Who is he?

Benguiat let out a deep breath. Corbel.

A man well-tuned to darkness, Vera said. Tell me, did she fight for her life?

No, Benguiat replied. "But she might not have known she needed to. She might have thought it was For Blood! It’s a new show. A screen flowered, and an episode ran. Vera didn’t tell him that she’d already heard about it from many Rejects. She’d even seen some of the clips. It’s an endurance contest. People volunteer to see how much physical damage they can take. Beatings, burnings, knives. Sylfaen was on last year. Sylfaen, fighting another agile woman, both with machetes. Vera winced in spite of herself. Very popular."

Vera raised her hand. The image stopped on a young man with a sledgehammer. What about the murder weapon?

Another screen flowered. Scalpel. Fully analyzed. Sharp enough, long enough, Sylfaen’s blood confirmed. Diagram, showing projected trajectory as it was dropped or thrown and skittered under the desk.

Vera stepped out of the privacy screen. "Alexa—check our scalpel count, would you? But scan for