Update and B17 Food Inspector (Patreon)

Hey guys! Sorry that I've been quiet lately. Ky and I had been preparing for MFF, and I always find it hard to create before a big con. I'm too distracted.

But MFF has come and gone now, and I've taken some extra time off of work so that I'd have a chance to write. Yay!

MFF was a ton of fun this year, and I got to meet so many interesting people. Did you come? I hope you stopped by the table! I also gave a talk on "You Gotta' be Nuts to Publish Furry Fiction". I think everyone liked it a lot. I had a couple people tell me that they got a lot out of it.

Anyhow, on to Executioner's Gambit! Tori is running out of time as the commissioner arrives today!

———

Tori carefully warmed her palms on either side of the mug and took deep, calming breaths. Still too hot to drink.

Druka emerged from the bathroom, sniffing the air. “Tea?”

“Calming herbal tea,” said Tori. “I’m going to need it today. Want some?”

He shook his head and opened the cabinet where they kept the javea. “How long until the commissioner arrives?”

She glanced to her strand. “Three hours, give or take. Plenty of time to compose myself.”

Druka gave her a supportive smile and a nod. “You’ll do great, hon.”

“Thanks,” she said, but secretly, she wished she’d already downed a couple kettles of the piping hot tea. Her stomach roiled with worry.

He glanced back from the kitchen. “Do you want your sash? You look so pretty in it.”

But Tori shook her head. She hadn’t even smoothed down her fur this morning, and all the scars on her skin made the hairs stick up every which way. “I love the sash, but I’m not hiding behind it today. I want Troykintrassa to see me and to see how much I need his help.” She drew a deep breath through her nose and wished she could smell the tea. “Then, I just need to convince him how much the ship needs me and hope he has some of the compassion that his nephew does.”

Druka filled his mug and returned to the table, but as soon as he sat, the strand on Tori’s shoulder chimed. She let her head hang heavy from her neck. “Central market. Deck 19,” the message read. “Inspector poisoned during breakfast rush. Pandemonium. Come now!”

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath before slipping the strand back in its holster. “I guess the tea will have to wait.”

# # #

The market on nineteen was loud to the extreme. Officers blocked all the exits, and the diners trapped inside shouted about being kept late for work.

“In all likelihood,” Tori said in Sese’s ear, “the killer will have fled before security showed up—even if he stuck around to make sure the victim died. No one still here is our perp.”

“So, let everyone go?” Sese shouted over the roar.

Tori shook her head. “Spread the word,” she said, “check IDs on everyone before they go. I want names. I want addresses. I want a list of everyone who was here.”

“You don’t want to interview them first?” Sese shouted.

“Ask them if they saw anything suspicious before they go,” said Tori. “Otherwise, expect me to follow-up with them later.”

Sese gave her an informal salute before rushing off to spread the instructions, and Tori turned to a vendor who was still in tears over the event.

“I’m ruined!” bawled Vruka. “Ruined!”

“Just calm down,” Tori told the scruffy male. “Tell me what happened.”

“What happened?” shouted the cook. “The Executioner ruined me! That’s what happened. No one will ever buy my food again!” He rolled back on his tail and kicked his food cart, but instead of knocking it over, he only managed to slide it across the metal deck.

“Forget about that for the moment,” said Tori. “Tell me what happened this morning.”

“I don’t know,” Vruka groaned. “It was breakfast rush. That’s my busiest time. I have all the same customers every day. They line up all the way to the corridor, and I serve them as fast as I’m able. Almost everyone wants the same thing: a scoop of sausage hash, a cup of mixed fruit from the cooler, and to fill their cup with javea from the dispenser.”

“And you had only the usual customers today?” asked Tori, tapping notes on her strand. “No new faces?”

The cook shrugged. “I don’t know. So long as everyone is ordering the usual, I’m just cooking and tapping strands to take payments. I don’t even notice faces during rush unless someone has a special order.”

“And the food inspector? Inspector Rae?” asked Tori. “He was a regular customer of yours?”

That question triggered a pause in Vruka’s tears. He glared at Tori, seething. “Rae? He was a regular all right,” growled the cook. “But a customer? No, not so much.”

Tori’s ears perked. “How do you mean?”

“Every single morning, Inspector Rae showed up to inspect my cooking,” Vruka explained. “He didn’t even have the decency to wait in line with the others. He just cut right in and expected a free meal.”

Tori’s ears drooped. A ship official who abused his power for his own personal gain? Yeah, that was The Executioner’s favorite type.

“And if I didn’t move fast enough or if I said anything, he’d threaten to shut me down!”

Tori sighed. “I’m sorry he was victimizing you,” she said. “And he expected a free breakfast again today?”

Vruka nodded. “Yes, he was very punctual. I’d always know it was 0715 hours because there was Inspector Rae, cutting in the line.”

A creature of habit, huh? thought Tori. That would make him an easy target. She asked, “Did you see anything unusual when he got his food this morning?”

The cook fell back against a beam plastered with flyers and ads. He let his head hang low and shrugged. “I don’t know. There was a little shoving, a little outrage at him cutting in line. Many of my customers have grown accustomed to Rae jumping in front of them,” he explained, “but not all are so accepting. I’m in no position to say anything, but they don’t fear him. Why should they?”

Tori visualized the inspector cutting in line and other diners getting in his face. Such a distraction would have been a perfect opportunity to slip something into his cup or onto his plate. “And then?”

“And then nothing,” groaned Vruka. “He took his plate and left. I kept serving customers until someone started screaming about him being dead.”

Vruka spit on the deck. “Good riddance to him, but why did the killer have to ruin me to get to him?” he cried. “Everyone knew I hated him. Now, they’re all going to think I did it!”

“Okay, thank you for your help,” said Tori, taking a moment to pat his shoulder in a sympathetic way. “I’m sure it will be okay … eventually.”

As Tori walked away, she pulled up the application that Daskatoma had written for her and typed in 0715. A hundred or so names spooled by, and she dumped them to a file for later.

Meanwhile, a runabout had arrived at the scene, and some medics were preparing to move the corpse onto a stretcher for transport. Tori waved at Sese who was processing the last of her witnesses: logging IDs and asking if they’d seen anything suspicious. “Any luck?” asked the big officer over her shoulder.

“Yes, maybe,” said Tori. “I’ve got a list of who was probably present when the food or drink was poisoned, and if we mark off all the names you guys are collecting now, hopefully we can narrow this crime down to a reasonable list of suspects.”

“That is good news,” said Sese, but her ears raised in curiosity—for how Tori acquired such a list, no doubt. “And I’ve got good news as well.”

“Yeah?” asked the rusty red geroo, her ears perked.

“That was our ninth victim,” said Sese. “Our killer stole only nine pills, so unless he’s been cutting pills in half and gambling that it’d be enough, he could be done.”

“Thank goodness for that,” sighed Tori. “And the pharmacy has new regulations, so they’re taking better precautions too. Hopefully he can’t get any more.”

Sese’s strand beeped, and she paused her interviews to read it. When the big officer said nothing, Tori asked, hopefully, “More good news?”

“Chief Tipohee got another anonymous tip and is getting ready to search an apartment,” said Sese.

Tori frowned. “Do I need to ask whose?”

Sese shook her head. “It’s Asui again, Nija’s son.” She waved at another officer, beckoned him to take over for her. “But this time, Tipohee says the tip included where to look.”

“Aw, that poor cub,” groaned Tori. “I wish his classmates would just lay off of him.”

“Yup. I’m gonna go watch the chief’s back.” She pointed at the smaller geroo. “Want to come?”

Tori checked the time on her strand and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve still got time. Let’s go.”

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FtJMav8Z4eoQ5DLUHoWALeHsxL2-KBLNdeLRPTKvKWM/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?