B18 Trophies (Patreon)

It's the holiday season, and I'm trying to make the most of my time.

Here's an Executioner's Gambit scene where Tori is running out of time before the commissioner's visit.

———

Tori and Sese’s path converged with Chief Tipohee’s at the intersection before Nija’s apartment. “You know this is a crap lead, don’t you, boss?” asked Tori.

“Of course, it’s a crap lead,” he gruffed. Pulling out his strand, the chief explained, “And if it was just another anonymous tip that said, ‘Asui is The Executioner,’ I would have ignored it. But this tip says, ‘Check the access panel in Asui’s bedroom for proof.’”

Tori rolled her eyes. “And you really think there’s going to be proof inside it?”

“No. There probably isn’t even an access panel in his bedroom,” said Tipohee. “But how can I not check? It’ll just take a moment. We don’t even have to inform Nija. We walk in, look, and leave.”

Tori opened her muzzle with a retort, but he cut her off before she could get the first word out, “Besides, what would happen to me if I ignored this tip, and it turned out that there really was evidence inside the panel? If Asui really is the killer—”

“He’s not,” interjected Tori.

“Probably not, but if he is, then ignoring the tip would end my career,” he spat. “I’d be lucky to score a job pushing trash into the recycler if I failed to act on such a straight-forward tip.”

At the door, Chief Tipohee typed a code into his strand, and the lock on Nija’s door clicked open without a delay. He pushed the door open, then paused, looking back over his shoulder to explain, “You two are my witnesses. I’ll check the lead and leave. If Nija wants to start shit with the captain, I’ll expect both of you to vouch that I did my duty without messing up any of her precious stuff.”

“Of course, Chief,” said Tori.

“Absolutely,” agreed Sese.

Sese directed her boss to the bedroom she’d searched earlier. Tori waited in the hallway, peeking in through the open door.

Sese shook her head. “I don’t see any panels.”

Tipohee nodded for a moment, then pointed to a poster taped up over Asui’s bed. “Anything behind that?”

Tori didn’t recognize the singer on the poster, but she truly was a gorgeous geroo—gleaming black fur, glowing with back-lit stage lighting. With her eyes closed and chin tilted back, the camera had captured her holding a high note.

Sese ran her pads across the poster, her ears dipping low in a frown. “Yeah, could be,” she said. “Feels like it covers more than just bare wall.” She peeled back the tape at the poster’s top and let the heavy paper curl forward.

Sese stepped to the side, revealing a bolted panel that was about a third of a meter wide and half a meter tall.

“Shit,” grumbled Tori. The other two nodded in silence. They’d be thinking it too.

Tipohee removed a slender multi-tool from the pouch in his strand holster and produced a pair of pliers. The bolts holding the panel in place must not have been particularly tight, because with only a little twist from the tool, the chief was able to unscrew all four with his fingertips.

He pulled the panel aside and laid it down against the bed’s headboard. In silence, the trio stared at the pipes, junctions, and valves buried inside the wall.

“The hells is that?” gruffed Tipohee. He reached between two pipes and plucked out the yellow plastic lid for a microwavable container. He flipped it over so he could inspect both sides. “This some kinda joke?”

Tori and Sese gasped in unison. When their boss turned a questioning eye their way, Sese explained, “The Executioner has been keeping trophies of his kills. One of them was the lid to a soup bowl.”

Tipohee stared at the plastic disc once more, then held it up for the other two to see. “This?”

“Could be,” said Tori, “one that looked like it, at least.”

“Anything else in there, Chief?” asked Sese.

Setting the lid aside, he enabled the light on his strand and knelt on the bed to take a closer look.

“A plastic bag of some sort… hanging from this valve,” he said. Tori couldn’t see around his broad back, but Sese turned on the light from her strand and tried to position it in a way that helped. “It’s snagged on something. I don’t want to rip it. If evidence spills out into the wall, we’ll have to bring workmen in here to tear it all out and recover it.”

“Oh crap, be careful, Chief,” said Tori, venturing into the crowded room. “We don’t know what the killer took from every crime scene, but if these really are his trophies, I suspect there will be a label from a brandy bottle and a small figurine made of modeling clay.”

When Tipohee finally extracted the bag—intact, thankfully—he reached inside and pulled out a very ugly trinket. Handing it to Tori, he asked, “This?”

Tori’s heart leapt up into her throat and she turned the object over in her paws. As Runo’oa had described, it could have been a figure of a geroo, but she wasn’t certain. Whatever it was, the object seemed small enough that someone could have picked it up with a cabled grabber like Biiz had suggested.

But if these really were the killer’s trophies, then that would mean Asui… “Well, this could be it but it’s hardly proof,” she said, backing away from the conclusion she’d already reached. “After all, I’ve never seen a photo of the actual figurine, but I suppose that Runo’oa could verify—”

Tipohee reached in the bag again, producing a mostly intact label that was only a little torn at the edges. “Brandy label,” he said before reaching in the bag once more. “A receipt for aluminum ingots, a paper cup, the disabled list from a couple months back…”

“This can’t be right,” whined Tori as she flattened the crumpled brandy label out against the bedspread. “Asui? He’s just a cub. Cubs don’t murder people. They’re not serial killers!”

“A cub small enough to wriggle through an air vent, perhaps,” Sese reminded her. “And he’s got connections to Nija. She could have granted him access or covered up his entries in the door logs.”

“It just can’t be!” Tori repeated.

The chief whispered, “Oh wow,” as he pulled another item from the bag—a pill bottle. He read the label aloud, “Quinalbarbitone.”

All the blood drained for Tori’s ears. “No! No! No! This can’t be right.”

The chief shook the bottle and nothing rattled inside. “It’s empty—all nine pills are gone. That’s pretty definitive. Asui is our prime suspect.”

“Chief, no,” said Tori, putting her paw on Tipohee’s arm. “The cub’s been framed. Can’t you see that?”

“Framed by who?” he asked. “How many geroo even know the killer’s been taking trophies? And this—a bottle of quinalbarbitone tablets? There shouldn’t be a single one of these outside of the pharmacy.”

“Framed by The Executioner, obviously,” said Tori. “We know the killer can get through locked doors! He could have planted this evidence, then given you the tip.”

The chief remained motionless for a long moment. “Why?”

“To close the case, obviously!” groaned Tori. “He’s used up the last of his pills, and the pharmacy has locked down the rest. Even if he does have a trick that gets him past locked doors, he wouldn’t have a key to the secure cabinet where they keep the pills now. He’s done killing, and he knows we’re not going to stop looking for him until the courts have someone to toss into the recycler.”

She held the figurine up in front of the chief’s face. “Don’t you see? He can’t flee the ship—especially if we’re under a secret quarantine. Sooner or later, we’re bound to find him. The only way he’s getting away with this is to toss us a patsy.” She drew a breath and released it slowly. “Giving us Asui is his escape plan.”

Tipohee turned to Sese. “Pick up Asui from school, haul him down to court.”

“No, Chief!” cried Tori. “He’s innocent!”

“Based on what?” he shot. “Where’s your proof that he couldn’t have done this?”

“I don’t… I don’t…” whispered the injured geroo. “You have to give me time!”

“That’s not our job,” Tipohee reminded her. “It’s our job to identify and apprehend suspects, then to hand them over to the courts for trial. If you don’t think he did it, then tell the judge.”

Tori gasped. She looked to her strand. “I can’t! I have to… I have to talk to the commissioner! It’s my only chance, and he’s going to be here in under an hour!”

Tipohee shrugged. “We can’t let him walk. Only the courts can.” He turned back to the bigger gal. “Sese, go arrest him. He’s going to need a good lawyer. I’ll call Nija and warn her—”

From out in the hallway, an older female’s voice shouted, “Warn me what?”

———

Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1ZzgiM3cKbxzKsMxCwfO9RLzv17i3kLDoLE-bRJM65t4/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?