Chapter 30
Plormot Proposes Two Solutions
Before Zraevetsol's return, the Orion Express's captain poked his head in and announced that the phal had cleared sufficiently enough to grant him some limited communication to Pordd, and that Pordd had indeed sent a vessel to tow them to dock. Though they were en route, they wouldn't arrive until perhaps the early hours of the following morning. Upon Douqh's despairing look, Plormot took him aside and spoke in low tones.
"Fret not. As I say, I have the solutions ready and prepared for the Nivaluzian authorities. This case will be wrapped up in a matter of an hour or two."
The passengers came crowding into the restaurant quarters and took seats around the room. They all shared more or less similar expressions of tense expectancy. The denobulan lady, Finta, was still weeping, and Mrs. Valy'r ad risen to the occasion and now displayed uncharacteristic tenderness in comforting her.
"Calm yourself now. I'm right here and none of us will let anything happen to you."
Plormot stood and cleared his throat. Silence fell.
"Princess, Ladies and Gentlemen, I will speak in English since I think all of you understand and speak that language. We are here to investigate the death of Shaun Richard Evered, more famously known as Parisi.
"There are two possible solutions to this crime. I shall put both before you all, and my colleagues, Mr. Douqh and Dr. Suric here, will judge which solution is the right one.
"Now you all know by now the facts of the case. Mr. Evered was found stabbed this morning. He was last known to be alive at 12.37 last night when he spoke to the Orion Express's purser through the door. A watch in his pajama pocket was found to be broken, with the hands stopped at quarter past one. Dr. Suric examined the body and puts the time of death as somewhere from eleven at night and three in the morning, but likely more specifically between midnight and two. Half an hour after midnight, as you all know, the ship ran into a phal system and was stopped.
"With the discovery of the body, came also the discovery that the compartment's escape pod had been activated, and was gone. Other than the escape pods, it is impossible for anyone to leave the ship.
"Zraevetsol, who was traveling as a rotary belt salesman, revealed himself to be a member of an Earth detective agency-" Several heads turned towards Zraevetsol before returning their attention to Plormot. "And he had kept watch that night. No one could have passed his compartment at the end, without him seeing. The movements of the crew were accounted for. We were therefore forced to conclude that the murderer was among the passengers."
There was a brief pause while Plormot examined everyone in the room.
"At least, that was our theory."
"What?" Mr. Douqh cried out. Plormot ignored him.
"I will put before you an alternative theory. It is very simple:
"Evered had an enemy whom he feared. He had received threatening letters, some samples which his fastidious secretary, Mr. Qozz, kept. He hired Zraevetsol for additional protection and gave him a description of his enemy and told him the attempt, if made, would most likely be made on the second night out from St'aldor.
"It is clear, now, that Mr. Evered knew a good deal more than he told. The enemy, this assassin, as Mr. Evered expected, boarded the ship, possibly at Epuhled, or else Nondinsi by entering the ship after Lieutenant Keller and Mr. Qozz descended to the landing dock. He boarded wearing an Agate Inc uniform, bearing the patches of an Orion Express purser, over his regular clothes, and a pass-key which granted him access to Mr. Evered's compartment, despite it's locked state.
"Mr. Evered was under the influence of a sedative, which he commonly took while hopping the void. The assassin stabbed him a great number of times. He disposed of the knife by placing it into the escape pod and set it on a timer to eject after takeoff to confuse the authorities. He then left the compartment through the communicating door between Evered's and Mrs. Valy'r's compartment-"
"That's true," said Mrs. Valy'r, who nodded her head.
"He slipped out of the compartment and along the corridor. He removed his uniform and shoved it into a suitcase in an empty compartment. A few minutes later, dressed in his ordinary clothes, he left the ship before it launched, using the same hatch he used earlier, following Lieutenant Keller and Mr. Qozz. In this way, authorities will look for the culprit who escaped via an escape pod, rather than retracing events at the station in Nondinsi. The assassin is free to make good his escape."
A few people gasped.
"What about the watch?" Zraevetsol asked.
"Ah, it's quite simple. Mr. Evered forgot to put his watch back an hour as he should have at Xezympordd. His watch still registered Ragheft IV region time, which is one our ahead of Nivaluzian time during this period of orbital rotation. It was a quarter past midnight when Mr. Evered was stabbed – not a quarter past one."
For a moment, everyone seemed to quietly take stock of themselves.
"But that is absurd!" Mr. Douqh burst out. "What about the voice that spoke from the compartment at twenty-three minutes to one? It was either Mr. Evered, or his murderer speaking."
"Not necessarily. It might have been a third person. Perhaps another passenger who had gone into Evered's compartment to speak to him, who found him dead. Initially, they rang the bell to summon the purser, but then, a typical change of heart arises. Suddenly, they became afraid of being accused of the crime, and he spoke pretending to be Evered."
"I suppose it's possible," Douqh grudgingly admitted, though he didn't seem entirely convinced.
"Sir, do you think I forgot to put my watch back, too?" Mrs. Valy'r asked.
"No, Mrs. Valy'r, perhaps not. I think you heard the man pass through, but were still asleep. You were in that odd middle state between wakefulness and sleep, so you heard it subconsciously. Later, you had a nightmare of a man being in your compartment and woke up with a start and rang for the conductor."
"Well, I suppose that's possible," Mrs. Valy'r stammered. Princess Nehn's dark eyes bored into Plormot.
"How do you explain my maid's evidence, sir?"
"Very simply, Princess. Your maid encountered the man in the hallway, but earlier, while the ship was still stationed at Nondinsi. She is, as you say, very loyal. Once we began our investigation into the possibility of the murderer being among the passengers, she pretended to have seen him at a later hour, with the confused intention of giving you an air-tight alibi."
The princess's eyes continued to stare at him before she dipped her great head.
"You have thought of everything, Mr. Plormot. I – I admire you."
There was silence.
Everyone jumped as Dr. Suric struck the table in frustration. Plormot's empty teacup and saucer rattled.
"No!" He cried. "No, it still does not fit! Mr. Plormot, surely you must see how inadequate your explanation is – you know very well that this crime could not have been committed as such."
Plormot regarded his new colleague. No one moved.
"I see that you are dissatisfied," he murmured. "Then, I will honor your curiosity and explain my second solution to this affair. But do not forget the first so hastily. You may later find you agree with it." He turned to the other passengers.
"The second solution is a simple one. I will take you through my process, so you may understand how I arrived at such an explanation.
"When I heard all of the evidence, I sat and closed my eyes and finally began to consider everything. There were several issues that I wrestled with and could not wrap my mind around until I had given them my full attention.
"First, there was something my dear friend Izu mentioned to me at lunch the first day of our travels together – before the murder. He mentioned how the company here, all of us passengers, were fascinating because of its diversity in persons from across classes, species and nationalities. So many people coming from so many corners of the galaxy for such a fleeting moment only to disperse upon arrival.
"This particular point stuck to my mind. I tried to imagine how many other instances could such a collection of people converge. Perhaps some intergalactic university, but those are often delineated by class and will be predominantly weighted towards the young and the learned. Perhaps also in places like the Belt, from where Zraevetsol originally hails; but again, such a place is primarily sought out by only very specific classes and species.
"And then the answer came to me. It was obvious, really. Only in the Federation, ratified within the past ten years. The Federation is a new institution still, it is true, but already, the results on intergalactic travel and trade is clear. Only in the Federation. In the Federation, there might be a corporation, and office, an exploration vessel and, indeed, a household, where such varied people might assemble.
"A space-born shuttle salesman, an academic linguist, a denobulan missionary, a betazoid lady's maid and so on. This led me to my plan of 'guessing' as Zraevetsol puts it. In other words, it was this very line of thought that helped me to 'cast' each person to play a certain role in the Archer Affair much the same as a director or producer casts a performance.
"In considering each person's interviews and comparing them to my separate knowledge, I came to some fascinating parallels. Take, for example, our Mr. Wroe'bex Qozz.
"My first interview with him was perfectly normal, and led me absolutely nowhere new. But the second interview brought something new. I told him that I had discovered a note in the dead man's compartment which mentioned the Archer Affair. He said, 'But surely-' and he stopped himself. 'I mean, that was careless of the old man.' Something to that affect.
"He had covered himself, but he had started to say something else. I posit that he meant to say something quite different, something closer to the words, 'But surely that note was destroyed.' If my suggestion is accurate, and I believe it is, it can only mean Qozz knew of the note and of the attempt to destroy it. He was therefore either the murderer or and accomplice to the murderer. Simple thus far.
"Now to the dead man's other employee, the antaran steward, Strophyr Zahn. He said his employer habitually took a sleeping aid, a sedative, when hopping the void. This may be so, but I had to ask myself whether the dead man would have taken one last night? The phase pistol under his pillow proved the lie to that idea easily enough.
"If one is in fear for their life, and bothers to place a weapon so near to their head while they sleep, it would only hinder them to take something deleterious to his defense. He full well meant to remain alert last night. Whatever he was given last night must have been against his knowledge. By whom? Well, I should say the obvious answer would be by Qozz or Zahn.
"Personally, I see Zahn as the more likely, between the two. For one thing, he is a steward by trade, and it would be normal for him to serve food and drink, among other duties. I see him as having the cool nerve to do such a deed with a certitude born of long experience under pressure.
"Zraevetsol, then. I immediately believed him when he told me of his identity and line of work. I just as instantly disregarded his account of his methods to guard Evered from harm. His story, his professed methods, they were nothing more than a pack of poor lies. Frankly, I was a little disappointed in his explanation of peeking from his door to watch a narrow slice of the hallway from the end of the passage. The only way to effectively protect someone in such a scenario would have been to either spend the night actually inside the compartment with the target, or else to remain immediately outside the door.
"The only thing Zraevetsol's evidence showed was that none of the other passengers on the Orion Express could possibly have murdered Evered. His evidence neatly absolved all other passengers of any suspicion. This in and of itself seemed rather fantastic to me, considering it came from a member of a detective agency. From someone who would presumably have some measure of curiosity in how one of the passengers might have done the deed. Detectives, private or not, are curious and cynical.
"Instead of offering so much as a single theory, his evidence prevented any opportunity for the passengers to have done it. This seemed oppositional to what I would expect, both from him and from the realities of the situation, so I put it aside for later. Suffice it to say, I was convinced that Zraevetsol was, indeed, who he said he was. I was convinced he told the truth, that he is a detective for a private company. Therefore, I was convinced he was lying, because no curious mind would sit back and remain content with such a baffling set of circumstances. But again, I will move on.
"By now, you have probably all heard of the partial conversation I overheard between Miss Lee and Lieutenant Keller. The interesting thing to my mind was the fact that the lieutenant called her darling and was clearly intimately known to her. But he was only supposed to have meet her a few days previously. Miss Lee said it best, of the lieutenant. 'I know the type.'
"Indeed, Lieutenant Keller is the type of human who, even if he had fallen in love with her at first sight, he would have gone about things slowly and with the upmost caution. He would not have rushed things and used terms of intimacy. He would have moved at a pace so slow as to make quarter impulse speed seem fast. My conclusion was obvious, then. Lieutenant Keller and Miss Lee were, in reality, well acquainted, yet were parading as strangers for some undisclosed reason.
"In addition to the suspicious nature of her travel companion, I noticed a drastic change in her disposition between two otherwise identical situations. I had initially viewed her as a cool, collected mind and personality. But upon a minor stoppage of a mere ten minutes or so, I watched as she unraveled into a mass of nerves and unsteadiness. She tried to play it off as a matter of compounding delays, but I was nonetheless aware of how scientific she has been under stress one moment, and scattered when pushed on certain points. When I proposed to her a series of explanations, she did not outright refuse the one I had offered as an easy out, a neurological issue. I will move on for the moment, however I will note my lingering curiosity over her inconsistency.
"There is the testimony of Mrs. Valy'r. She had told us that while she lay in her berth, she kept her eyes shut as a man became present in her compartment. Now, I will discuss the issue of time, for it coincides with Mrs. Valy'r's evidence. The dead man's watch was broken, and found in his pajama pocket. While it is possible he may have preferred to sleep with his watch inside his pajama pocket, it could easily fall out, and would most certainly be inconvenient and uncomfortable. There is a bedside table just next to his head, why not put it there? I was certain the broken watch was set to show the time as quarter past one deliberately.
"If the watch was a blind, and the crime was committed at some time other than quarter past one, then when was it committed? Was it earlier? I was awoken at twenty-three minutes to one by a loud yell. My friend, Mr. Douqh was positive that would have been the time, at 12.37.
"A sound conclusion, but for how impossible it is. If the victim were heavily drugged, he could not have yelled. And besides, if he had been able to cry out, he would have therefore been able to attempt to defend his life. Yet, there were no signs of a struggle.
"Mr. Qozz noted, more than once, and quite obviously, that Evered spoke no Axanarian. After all of this, it became clear to me that the business with the watch, the cry in the night, the many instances where all signs seemed to steer me to assigning a time to the murder was a concerted effort to mislead me. Anyone could see through the watch – it's a rather obvious blind that comes up often enough.
"But here is the genius – they assumed that I would see through it – they planned that I would see through it. They planned for me to feather my ego by spotting such a blind, and thereby steer me towards the assumption that since Evered spoke no Axanarian that the voice I heard at 12.37 would be someone else, and that Evered would be dead already. Through all of this, I strongly believe that at twenty-three minutes to one, at 12.37, Evered was still lying in his berth, asleep and drugged, but very much alive.
"But the plan's design was successful! I heard the cry in the night. The ruckus was enough that I got out of my berth and opened my door. I looked out. I heard the Axanarian phrase. Even if I were too tired or too fantastically dense to not realize the significance of the phrase, it can be brought to my attention. If necessary, Qozz could beat me over the head with it. He could tap my shoulder and explain that it couldn't have been Mr. Evered speaking, because he could not speak any Axanarian."
"Now, then. When was the crime committed then, if not at 12.37? And who killed him?"
"I have no way of verifying this, but it is my estimation that the crime was committed sometime around two in the morning.
"And as to who killed him..."
Plormot petered off, looking at those assembled. Only the passengers, Mr. Douqh, Dr. Suric and Plormot himself were present. All other attendants and crew had been barred entry. He had the full focus of every pair of eyes, locked onto him in rapt attention. The stillness was near absolute. He drew a careful breath and continued.
"I was intrigued by the extraordinary circumstances of having no easy person of interest in this case. In fact, it was fairly impossible to prove a case against any single person on this ship. Further, there was a curious pattern of randomization. I realize I have used two terms that are ordinarily used in opposition to one another. It seemed both random, these alibis, but there was a pattern to it, and it felt as though everything locked into a greater plan.
"In each interview, the testimony from everyone had the curious result of giving an alibi to another person who I would have described as seemingly random, or somehow unlikely. Mr. Qozz and Lieutenant Keller provided alibis for each other. Two people who seemed to have no connection, no particular interest in one another. Federate space is large, and Lieutenant Keller is career Starfleet, so there is no reason to assume he would have ever come across the young Qozz, especially as Keller made it clear he hadn't any 'use' for aliens.
"The same thing happened with the antaran steward and the human shuttle salesman, the denobulan missionary and the human academic. I thought to myself how extraordinary it all was.
"They cannot all be in on it!
"And that is when these many pieces fell into place. I finally saw the case as it was.
"They were all in on it.
"For so many people connected with the Archer case to be traveling in the same direction in the same region of space at the same time on the same ship all by a coincidence is not just unlikely. This was an occurrence brought about not by chance, but by design. I remembered Lieutenant Keller's opinion of a trial by jury.
"On Earth, a jury is composed of twelve people. Here, we had twelve passengers. Evered – well, we shall dispense with the falsities now – Parisi was stabbed twelve times. And finally, this imbalance that has confused this whole case, this varied and strange group of passengers traveling from St'aldor to Sioloc, and many going on through to Iser, is finally resolved. This time of year, passage is low. Again and again, both station attendants and my dear friend Izu exclaimed how incredible it was to have the Orion Express booked so solidly during such a slow time.
"Parisi had escaped justice on Earth. He had escaped justice in the Federation. There was no question of his guilt. It was easy for me to visualize a natural coming together of twelve people to serve as jurors. People, the only people remaining, who could condemn him to death and who would carry out the sentence. Upon this thought, the entire case fell into perfect, linear order.
"It all became beautifully neat and organized. Each person fulfilled a function, no matter how large or small. Everything was arranged so that if suspicion should fall on any single person, the evidence of one or more of the others would clear the accused person and confuse the case.
"Zraevetsol's evidence was necessary should some outsider be suspected of the crime and be unable to provide an alibi. The passengers were in no danger of this, and were insulated. Every detail, no matter how seemingly insignificant, no matter how minute, was planned and accounted for in advance.
"The entire affair was very carefully-planned so that anyone who discovered a new piece of information would further entangle themselves in confusion. As my friend, Izu remarked, this case seemed so impossible. But, that is precisely the intended outcome.
"Does this solution explain everything? Yes. The nature of the wounds – twelve of them, each inflicted by a different person. The artificial threatening letters, written only to provide to authorities and satisfy their questions. I have no doubt there are real letters, meant to terrorize Parisi in advance of his murder, which Qozz destroyed. Zraevetsol's story of being hired by Parisi was also, of course, a fabrication. The description of this mythical 'small dark man with a womanish voice' but no clue as to species, coloration, language… a convenient description, because it describes absolutely no one, and can therefore hurt no unfortunate bystander.
"The specific decision to use a knife and stab someone seemed curious to me at first, but ultimately fits. Anyone with opposable digits can grasp and therefore use a knife, whether they are strong or frail. It makes no noise. It is clear to me now. Each person in turn entered Parisi's darkened compartment through the communicating door of Mrs. Valy'r's room and struck. They themselves would never know who dealt which blow, nor which one actually killed him.
"The final letter which Parisi found in his compartment was destroyed. With nothing to indicate a relation to the Archer Affair, there would be no reason to suspect any of the passengers aboard the ship. Parisi would die under the name Evered, as anonymously as he tried to live, though ironically it would not help him. It would be assumed to be an outside job, and the 'small man with the womanish voice' would have been seen by a couple of the passengers leaving the ship at Pordd.
"But the meticulous plans were subjected to unforeseen events. The phal. I am not sure when the conspirators realized the extent of the phal drift, nor am I certain of what exactly happened between them when they realized what it meant for their plans. The stoppage cast much of their planning to the debris chute.
"I imagine there was a last-minute, hasty meeting. They determined to carry on and go through with it. The stoppage now meant that every passenger would certainly come under suspicion and investigation, but that possibility had been accounted for. Now, they needed to confuse the case. Testimony was given regarding the purser and red robed woman and additional 'clues' were discovered in the form of the uniform and the red robe. Other evidence, specifically the knife, was gotten rid of by way of the escape pod.
"The incriminating 'clue' of the uniform was discovered in the betazoid lady's maid's luggage. I suspect it was a move designed to cast additional suspicion upon her, given that her connection to the Archer family would probably be the most difficult to prove. Zraevetsol, I believe, was supposed to be one of my more reliable and believable sources of information. However, his cavalier disposition, I suspect also, was likely intended to have me come to suspect him instead of some of the other passengers, because I have a feeling his connection to the family would be similarly nebulous.
"To further muddy the waters, what is that phrase on Earth? To throw a red fish on a road? A 'red herring,' is it? A 'red herring' was added, the introduction of a mythical woman in a red robe. Here, I was invited into my role as a fellow witness through careful manipulation of my environment. Awoken by the cry in the night, the footsteps, the cacophony and a heavy bang at my door. I unwittingly oblige and look out in time to see the red robe disappearing down the passage. Several carefully chosen people, the purser, Lee and Qozz, have also seen her.
"This robe was not found amongst the belongings of any of the passengers. This robe might have pushed the boundaries of anyone's insulation of innocence. Instead, it was placed in my luggage while I conducted interviews. I may never know who came up with this idea, since they could have easily left it in one of the hallway toilets, but I have a strong feeling it was someone with both a sense of humor and a bold disregard for authority.
"Specifically where the red robe came from, I don't think I could ever prove, though I lean towards Countess Kyrth. She seems to be the type to me, who would have an extra one.
"And to the knife. A final attempt to throw confusion over this case. It was dumped into the escape pod. It was a blind of both creativeness and of simplicity. The pod would, of course, eventually be found, but by then the escapee would be assumed to be long gone, and the trail cold. Instead, however, it was brought back by spatial eddies of phal and discovered within hours.
"The chances of such a thing occurring are literally astronomical! It is almost too much to call it bad luck. I do not consider myself to be particularly prone to flights of fancy, but I do not think it a stretch to say it is a sign this operation was cursed, to some degree.
"Such a quick discovery of the escape pod, with the weapon, scuttled the possibility of saying it was an outside job. Such a quick discovery meant that I was obligated to investigate each and every passenger in great detail.
"When Qozz first learned that the chip containing the letter that had been so carefully abraded and destroyed had in part remained intact just enough, and that the remaining words included just enough of Daisy Archer's name, he must have at once relayed this news to the rest of the passengers.
"This development meant it was clear that Countess Kyrth's position was suddenly quite tenuous, so her husband took immediate steps to conceal her personal passport and provide only her diplomatic one, which does not display her former family name. Really, that the destroyed chip was so damaged that it revealed nothing, except for the key bit – such a horrid piece of bad luck, and the second bit of bad luck after the phal drift.
"It was decided that everyone would uniformly and completely deny any connection to the Archer or Hernandez family. Given the phal, they knew I had no means of verifying the truth, and given their planted evidence, they calculated that I would not necessarily dig into this particular angle unless I became suspicious of one specific person.
"I must mention here, a side note. A detail that kept surfacing. It became somewhat of a theme. Once the identity of the dead man became clear, there was general agreement - no great disservice had been done to society by removing this man. Interview after interview, each person said, in effect, that this was no great loss. I am inclined to agree on that front. But a murder has been committed, and I must investigate.
"But others seem to balk at my insistence to ask questions. I ask that they help me see justice done. I am met with the same response, whether it comes from royalty or nobility or even a shuttle salesman, who put me in my place. Time after time, I kept hearing it. Justice had been done. Justice had been done. And after I began to pick apart the many lies told to me. Justice had been done. For such a diverse crowd, there is an undeniable uniformity in the ideals of justice.
"Now there is another issue I had to address. Assuming my theory on this crime was the right one, and I am certain it is, then the Orion Express's purser must be in on it. But if that is true, I then had thirteen murderers. Perhaps a thirteenth person wanted in on the plot? But, no, this plot has been exactingly and meticulously planned and executed, and only twelve stab wounds exist, so a thirteenth murderer is incongruous.
"So now I was faced with the odd question of who was innocent? Who, out of all these persons of interest, is the one person who did not partake?
"I concluded that the person who had no part in the crime itself would be, conversely as it may seem, the one person who would be considered the most likely to do so. The person with the most motive, the most reason to kill Parisi is, of course, Countess Kyrth.
"Count Kyrth unabashedly lied to me again and again, and yet I fully believed him when he swore to me upon his honor that his wife had never left her bed that night. It would mean he, himself, took her place, and struck one of the blows that killed Parisi.
"If so, to circle back around, then Bael Kehrno, the purser, was definitely one of the twelve. This posed a new problem. How could I prove it? He was a decent man who had worked for Agate Incorporated for years, and his character was vouched for by Mr. Douqh as a reliable and good man. Not the sort to get caught up in a murder plot through corruption or the like. Therefore, Bael Kehrno must also be involved in the Archer Affair. But, that seemed so improbable. He has never been a resident of the Sol System, or indeed Federate space, and then I remembered.
"The dead au pair – the nanny to the family, was Xindi. Specifically, arboreal. She would have been about the right age to be his daughter or niece. It would explain, further, the decision to commit the crime aboard a vessel in transit. It meant he could ensure the proper staging of each passenger – the booking of a 'Mr. Harris,' whom I suspect is fictional. Obtaining a uniform and purser's passkey would be simple, and they could isolate the victim and prevent an innocent bystander from being railroaded.
"His complicity also meant I could explain the escape pod. For you see, it should not be possible to launch the escape pod without being inside of it. Even if they were to accomplish this specific feat, it would vent the compartment, killing whoever was inside. Yet the discovery of the empty pod mere hours later meant just that. It initially vexed me.
"The pod was supposed to be a blind, true enough. But accomplishing it's launch without launching with it spoke of someone with a great deal of technical know-how. If someone with an insider's knowledge of the Orion's workings could provide the necessary codes, then that person, or someone else with the skills to use them could indeed use those codes to gain administrative access at the compartment panel.
"It would be a simple matter to reprogram the escape pod's base functions and set it to launch on a timer, thereby avoiding the problem of venting the room whilst inside.
"Were there any other passengers whose parts were not yet explained, I needed to ask myself. Yes, several. While Countess Kyrth's relation eventually became known through her name, Talla Shran, and the young Wroe'bex Qozz explained readily enough his relation through his father's involvement as the prosecutor, the rest of the passengers were a bit more complicated." Here, Plormot took a brief reprieve and fixed the human lieutenant and linguist each with a look.
"It came to my attention the prevalence among humans of traveling under false documents.
"From the start, I knew this crime had to have been a crime of premeditation. A crime of design. Lee seemed to possess the meticulous hand needed to design such a crime. Once my suspicions were raised through her secretive conversations, it took only the realization that things were not as they appeared for me to zero in on her. And of course, the false documents.
"Hannah Lee was not Hannah Lee at all, but Hoshi Sato, a longtime friend and officer who served with Captain Archer for years. Countess Kyrth's attempts to describe a tall, busty woman to deflect suspicion away from Lee's true identity as Sato proved to me all the more that Hannah Lee and Hoshi Sato were one and the same. It would further explain odd moments where I would note how her attitude was reminiscent of a vulcan, and she would surprise me with an odd reaction of mirth when I commented on the similarity. Now, it is clear, because Sato would have had ample opportunity to learn such behaviors under the tutelage of her old mentor, the revered T'Pol.
"Regardless of what she called herself, she was intimately acquainted with Lieutenant Keller, and it stood to reason that if one of them was false, then the other should be, as well. Back to 'casting' my parts, Keller could only be reasonably cast as Malcolm Reed. Reed and Sato were longtime associates, and Reed was one of Captain Archer's highest ranking and most trusted friends, serving together through multiple wars and exploratory missions.
"As to my mystery over their conversation, it irked me. I knew the answer must be a simple one. I applied the explanation that her phrase: 'When it's done," referred to the murder. But if so, what was she putting off? Were they planning to court and marry? If so, why would coupling prevent their ability to commit this crime? If I could not explain the second part, I could not soundly apply the conversation to the murder. And then, I saw it. She mirrored our proud lieutenant, here.
"I had asked whether he was injured, early on, and he - what is the saying {masticated my head off?} and denied it outright. Later, he admitted to being injured on a 'job' of some sort, and was most displeased that I had reasoned it out. Indeed, Earth has fostered environments where showing weakness could spell death. Why should Sato be any different? She travels under a false identity to safeguard her career from her own injury, and it would only make sense for her to put off her appointments if there is risk involved. Did the appointments awaiting her make sense? Was she putting off her treatment until after the crime? I think the answer is yes. Quite simple really, once I'd taken a step back.
"Declan Stills, the shuttle salesman, was an obvious fake, once Reed and Sato were unmasked. After all, it seems to be a 'fad,' a 'popular' thing to do, for humans to sample passports and identities like a platter of hors d'oeuvres. Parisi was in disguise as Evered. Reed was in disguise as Keller. Sato was in disguise as Lee. Why should Stills be any more legitimate?
"Frankly, part of me would not be shocked – surprised, maybe, but not shocked – to find that I had booked passage aboard a ship comprised entirely of dead people.
"Yet Stills felt so real to me. But I needed to 'cast' him, as it were. A shuttle salesman? A bit unoriginal of me in my guess, but a perfect fit. He would have been the helmsman for one of the captains aboard their vessels, or perhaps on Earth.
"When I confronted him, he admitted he had been the pilot for Archer first, then for the family on Earth. And it all fell together so neatly. Of all of the members of the Archer household, I remembered Travis Mayweather vividly, though his name and face had receded into the depths of my memory. The news had latched onto the au pair, it was true, especially upon her suicide, but they had focused on the helmsman just as much until he was cleared.
"In fact, he was one of the people associated with the family who was most closely examined for any possible guilt in little Daisy's abduction. The young, happy-go-lucky pilot who took a special liking to the child and who often took her on joyrides in the shuttle was immediately suspected. He was terribly treated by the authorities and the press alike, and it is no wonder he traveled now under a different name.
"It was through Mayweather's distress that Strophyr Zahn's relation to the family was elicited. Steward to Captain Hernandez, going on to assist her while she was stationed on Earth. He grew attached to the family, and worked with Mayweather on a near-constant basis. It is no wonder he immediately came to me to reveal his connection when I unearthed Mayweather's identity. It is easy to see why the great Captain Hernandez so valued Zahn as a steward, for he has continually exhibited steadfast loyalty.
"The maid, Tehf Toloe. I could not immediately guess her role, until it suddenly came to me. She, too, is loyal, and she is ever so organized. I felt an intangible sense that led me to believe she belonged amongst data entry stations, performing mainframe upkeep and administrative duties. She even slipped a little when I mentioned it, saying how her supervisors praised her for being an excellent administrator, a form of praise an Antaran lady's maid would be unlikely to ever receive. She struck me, also, of a woman who unfailingly keeps her finger on the pulse of the goings on around her. Not simply for her species as a betazoid, mind you. While I am sure she is as empathic as any other betazoid, I specifically get the impression that she is a personable and insightful individual.
"Perhaps now I am being fanciful, but I suspect Miss Toloe worked with Captain Hernandez, given her current employer is one of the captain's close friends. Remember, I fancy myself to be just imaginative enough to be good at 'casting' such a group of people. Miss Toloe is certainly someone who stands out as someone who could quite easily make a name for herself based on her professional skill and personal insight. I further imagine her demeanor of calm service is an act to cover self-recrimination and feelings of guilt. She exclaimed to me that she had nothing to do with the uniform. While I know that particular statement to be false, given that she agreed with her comrades to pack the uniform into her case, I believe her words. That she often checks and double-checks everything to make sure all is well.
"But what guilt could Miss Toloe possibly feel? Why is she included in such company? Sadness, anger, a multitude of feelings would make sense, of course. But as a passing colleague to the family, and with no direct responsibility over the child, or the welfare of anyone, what could possibly give her such a strong guilty conscience? And then I realized, she was the Starfleet administrator who worked with a plethora of Starfleet personnel in all manner of services.
"Any issue regarding benefits such as health care, retirement, pay and the like, that would have been Toloe's purview. She would have been the one to review placements of any help into the Archer-Hernandez household. She would have been the one to get to know Hernandez and her needs. She would have been the one to place Zia there. Is this enough to feel guilt? Certainly, if one is soulful enough, and I think she is. But I think there is yet more.
"It would have been Toloe's professional responsibility, after all, to occasionally check in on Zia. Is she fitting in? Is she adjusting well? Does she get along with the children and everyone else? It seemed obvious, all of a sudden. Her job is to connect people to resources and other people, and if a lonely newcomer to Earth needed someone to relate to, it would be the easiest thing in the world to connect her to another relative newcomer. Introducing her to someone of common experience would have been only natural, which brings me to Zraevetsol.
"Zraevetsol seemed to fit nowhere within the household, nor would he have worked as a colleague with any of them. He somehow knew offhand that the family didn't have a gardener, when I jokingly asked. This clearly told me he knew more of the family's structure and the people around it than he had led me to believe. So, he knew the household, but was not a part of it. And then it was obvious.
"He is currently in the employment of an investigative agency. Most agencies draw their employees from traditional lanes, such as the military, and more specifically, the police. Zraevetsol could easily have worked as a Federate-affiliated officer of some kind, and he just as easily could have been hired upon completion of his education. Regardless of which, I suggest that he did indeed gain his early work experience on Earth, which would have brought him into proximity with the Archers, and made him an obvious choice for Miss Toloe to make introductions.
"I tested the waters on this front with Zraevetsol. I mentioned what great companionship there can be had between different people of similar experiences, and he gave me the very reaction I sought. He tried to sell me some line about his eyes stinging from the light or some such nonsense, but it was clear to me then. He had grown close, perhaps even in love, with young Zia. Given his presence with such a cohort here, I suspect the latter.
"There is also the matter of our timid Finta. I was immediately struck, not by Finta herself, but by the other passengers and their regard to her. Upon receiving everyone's passports and documents, I reviewed them and found that Finta hails from Denobula, and that she is a missionary. She does work to heal the suffering of the unfortunate throughout the quadrant.
"And yet Mrs. Valy'r referred to her as a doctor. Another time, she mentioned she was a missionary, so perhaps it could be written off as Mrs. Valy'r being Mrs. Valy'r.
"What I could not simply dismiss, however, was how several supposedly unrelated people had all somehow decided she was a doctor. In my interviews, whenever Finta came up, I began to feign forgetfulness at her name and occupation, and people obligingly filled me in. Her name was Finta, they'd say. A doctor. She had introduced herself to me as a missionary. I asked whether she practiced medicine, and she said no, not for some time.
"Yet Reed called her a doctor. Sato called her a doctor. Mrs. Valy'r waffled between calling her a missionary one moment, and a doctor the next. Everyone, supposed strangers, called her a doctor, which means everyone knew her from the time when she was a doctor. Indeed, this detail is the detail that most bothered me.
"More than the escape pod, more than the mythical purser and red robed woman traipsing around the ship, moreover still than the timing of the murder. Everyone naturally thought of her as a doctor. It was the primary point that told me things were not what they seemed aboard this ship. It was only natural to conclude her role as little Daisy's pediatrician, and as Phlox's wife.
"The ever-loyal Talla answered me with a partial truth when I asked her for the name of Phlox's wife. Feezal, was the name she gave me. All well and correct, I am sure, but wholly inadequate when she knew very well I meant Phlox's wife, who was injured during the abduction that killed him. Besides, most everyone knows denobulans have several spouses each.
"For further confirmation, I thought it odd that Finta had such trouble in Common, but not so much in English. It wouldn't be unreasonabe for her to never need to learn English, but she certainly should have learned Common, if not as a doctor, then of course as a missionary. To test a theory, I commiserated with Finta regarding how difficult English can be for those who attempt to learn it, and she readily agreed.
"As you all know by now, I followed the details of the Archer Affair ravenously, and I remembered that during the abduction, it wasn't only that an unfortunate bystander had been killed, but another had been delivered a very grave injury to the head. I sense, sadly, that Sato is in good company when it comes to neurological injury, for Finta also seems to me to be someone dealing with the fallout from a head injury. She can no longer practice medicine, her trained profession. She struggles in certain non-native languages, which are processed in a different region in the denobulan brain than an innate, mother tongue.
"And now there remains only Mrs. Valy'r. Mrs. Valy'r's role was more important than even my own as a witness, I should think. She served as the person more open to suspicion of the crime than any other passenger because she occupied the compartment which connected to the victim's via the communicating door. Therefore, she would not have a good alibi.
"To be certain, it seemed absurd she should even need an alibi. She was, by all accounts, an absurd woman. I knew of no risian with any connection to the Archer affair, nor the family. Did I need to reevaluate my theory of the twelve? Did both Count and Countess Kyrth participate in this crime, rather than this gregarious woman? But no, her compartment was key to this case. It could not have been done without her.
"And then it hit me. Once I accepted she must have been in on it, why then, I must cast her. And why not? Every human aboard this ship has traveled under an assumed identity. Why not an assumed species? The casting, then, was obvious, for only an artist could ever pull off such a performance. And there was an artist connected to the Archer family. The famed actress, Lillian Aldana, known across a hundred systems throughout the quadrant…"
He drew to a halt, allowing the room to breathe in silence for just a moment.
A reverberant voice spoke up softly, as in a dream.
"I had always imagined I'd do well in a comedic role." She sounded like a whole different person to the plaintive, slightly shrill Mrs. Valy'r.
"That slip about calling Finta a doctor, and also a missionary was silly. It just goes to show the value in proper rehearsal. Most of the details were planned while we were scattered across the quadrant, so it's no wonder a detail like that slipped through. Oh, don't blame yourself, Finta, I was supposed to give final eyes to the plan and I missed it. It was, as he says, so natural to think of you as I always have."
She dipped her head to her hand. When she straightened up, Plormot saw that she had removed the Risian forehead marking that had fooled him for so long. Such a simple sleight, yet so effective.
"You know it, now, Mr. Plormot. You're such a clever man, you've got such a vivid imagination. But even you can never understand what happened. The day we discovered Daisy gone, and Phlox and Finta just lying there – discovering them had Talla in a near-catatonic state. I was just crazy. So was everyone. And Malcolm somehow managed to get out of some training exercise to make it there.
"That first day, it wasn't so bad. We all knew what we would do. We would find her, we would bring her back. But time stretched on, and I'd never seen Erika quite like that before. I'll spare you the play by play of events, but that whole 'affair' as you like to call it took less than three months. But the four years since have been an eternity.
"When it was all over, when it was clear Parisi had escaped, we decided it together, then and there, that he couldn't be permitted to live. There were twelve of us – well, eleven – since Malcolm was still recovering from injuries Parisi had left him.
"First we thought we'd just pick one of us to do it, whoever was willing and able, but in the end we settled on this way. It was Travis to suggested it, actually. Since he'd gone through hell with the system he felt we should employ some semblance of it.
"Hoshi drew up the main plan and worked out all the details with Bael. She's made it her job for the last two years. Once Malcolm was up and about, he helped Zraevetsol track him down. They kept tabs on him. Wroe'bex was the one we knew without a doubt Parisi would have no way of suspecting any connection to the case, since he had never been covered in the news or tabloids. He had always adored Erika, so he volunteered to lure him out. Wroe'bex's father had been disgraced after Parisi threatened Wroe'bex's life and made his escape. He had taken some finance courses and he was quite good about figuring out and explaining to us exactly how Parisi's money and connections had helped him escape in the first place.
"It took a long time to perfect our plan. Mr. Plormot, you have no idea just what we've sacrificed since it all ended to get here. Tehf had been slated for a series of promotions, and she gave up her entire career to make amends for introducing Zia and Zraevetsol – not that she has anything to apologize for. But you see, Mr. Plormot, we've all be trapped in those three months for the past four years. Travis hasn't had the nerve to fly in years, Strophyr refuses to accept a new posting. Hoshi keeps putting off the procedures that could put her right again. Don't look at me like that, dear, it's long past time.
"All of this is to say it took time to make it all happen. We had to track Parisi down. Zraevetsol managed to finally pin down his exact location. Wroe'bex got into his employment, and helped to convince Parisi to hire Strophyr. Then we had to consult with Bael, Zia's father. Well, he was willing. She was his only child, after all. Wroe'bex finagled it so Parisi would be traveling this way during the slow season so we'd be assured the chance to book passage solid. With Bael actually working aboard, it was too good a chance to be missed. Besides, we weren't about to take a chance on incriminating anyone else.
"Talla's husband had to know, of course, and he insisted on coming with her. Wroe'bex managed it so that Parisi selected the right day for traveling so that Bael would be on duty. We had meant to book every compartment and every berth. But of course, there was the extra berth left empty, anyway. Malcolm managed to book the last one under 'Mr. Harris.' He's a real person, actually, a sketchy old man, if you know what I mean. Not fictional at all, like you thought. Malcolm worked with him a while back, and he helped us bring Parisi in the first time around. He was never supposed to come, of course, but we needed that berth empty, or else it would have made things difficult for Wroe'bex.
"And then, at the last minute, you came …"
She stopped.
"Well, you know everything now, Mr. Plormot. What are you going to do about it? If everything has to come out and be revealed, I'll take full responsibility alone. As clever as you are, you don't have much in the way of physical proof. I would have gladly stabbed that man a dozen times over. You see, we didn't do this solely for revenge. It wasn't just my daughter and her children, nor was it for Phlox or Zia or even Jon. There had been other children before Daisy, and there might have been others in the future. People like him don't change after a certain point.
"We only carried out the sentence that was long overdue. But if society needs a culprit to condemn, then let it be me. It's unnecessary to bring all the rest into it. These people, maybe they can't see it themselves, but they still have a lot to live for. Finta can still do good in the galaxy, even if she doesn't believe it yet. Travis might still fly now that one of his demons has been dealt with, and Hoshi and Malcolm, they love each other. And Talla might finally feel safe for once…"
Her voice was wonderful in the space, filling the room and soothing an otherwise dry, recycled atmosphere. It was her deep, emotive tones that had surely captured the souls of many across the sector.
Plormot looked over to his friend.
"You are the director of Agate Incorporated, Mr. Douqh. What do you say?"
Mr. Douqh cleared his throat.
"It is my opinion," he coughed. "That the first theory you outlined is the right one. I think the Nivaluzian authorities would find everything to be just as you describe it to them, upon our arrival."
"And you, Dr. Suric?"
The doctor was wiping a suspicious bit of dust from his eye.
"I agree, of course. It is all well and good."
"What of your medical estimations regarding the dead body? And the holes you mention in the first theory?" Plormot pressed.
"Ah, well. I admit I perhaps became a bit overexcited in my hypotheses."
Another silence stretched.
"Well," Plormot gave a final pat to the passports before him. "I have done what I said. I have proposed my solution before you all, and will now close this case."
Author's Note:
The story title is a pun that I couldn't resist.
I named the transportation company Agate Incorporated after Agatha Christie.
Those of you familiar with Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express will have realized early on that I changed some of the details of the story and kept some others. For the sake of thoroughness, and to ensure Christie gets all the credit possible, I'll outline them here.
I made several changes to the Armstrong/Archer case. In the Armstrong case, Armstrong, his wife and stillborn child, Daisy, and the maid are the primary victims mentioned in the canon story, not including Cassetti's prior kidnappings/child murders.
In the Archer case, I decided a couple of things:
A) There's no way Phlox, Trip and T'Pol would all sit this story out if given the option.
B) But I also couldn't have the entire main cast/bridge crew traipsing around on the Orion Express.
For one thing, I think it's more dynamic to have a more eclectic collection of alien species. The shear diversity of nationalities, backgrounds and classes in cannon Orient Express is a big part of the draw for me. The entire bridge crew and main cast, which consists of one vulcan, one denobulan, a dog, and the rest human, seemed a little too uniform to achieve that goal. Even in this final version here, there were more humans on board than I liked.
For another, even though anyone at all familiar with Murder on the Orient Express won't be remotely surprised with the reveal, I wanted some sense that we get to meet some Star Trek versions of the culprits and get to hear some of their stories and grievances.
We've seen Trip grieving, angry and out for revenge after the Xindi attack, so I figured that ground had been covered and I killed him off. Similarly, we've seen T'Pol explore her own child arc, so she had to go, too. (Ever so briefly, I considered sparing them so they could raise their not-dead child somewhere far off, but immediately scrapped that. One of them might sit it out, given the danger, but both? No, so I offed both of them.)
For a bit, I played around with having Phlox join the story instead of Dr. Suric, because a revenge-driven Phlox was a cool idea to me, but I opted instead to have his (non-Feezal) wife fill in, because I needed to fill in more female characters. It also seemed a bit too far of a stretch to have him take part in an organized conspiracy planned over the course of multiple years to kill a man using subterfuge rather than capturing him and ensuring he be held on trial for his many, many murders, abductions, bribery, etc. If not on Earth, then on Denobula, or the Federation. I also thought Finta could use a little spotlight as a formerly well-balanced, successful doctor and scientist, but now changed into a jittery shadow of herself, who now embraces strict religion for comfort and structure.
To put it plainly, I needed to kill off more of the bridge crew to round out the collection of characters aboard the Orion Express.
As an aside, it felt somewhat fitting, though admittedly unoriginal, to have Trip die while trying to save the abducted child of a friend/colleague. This time, though, he gets to die for Jon's kid instead of Talla Shran.
I decided to honor the format of the story. I altered a couple of chapters, and cut one of them because it was no longer applicable to my story, based on changes I had made. I kept the template, and the order of each interview, etc, the same.
The berth booked under the name 'Mr. Harris' is actually a detail I kept from the original book. It seemed too good an opportunity to pass up, since Section 31 is headed by someone known as Harris, so I had Reed make the booking under the name Harris as a symbolic way to stick it to his former boss a final time. As much as I see Reed as a professional who wouldn't be swayed by personal feelings, I also think he's exactly the type who might make an exception in operating procedures if it meant he could well and truly cut ties from Section 31.
Once I designed the details of the Daisy Archer kidnapping case, I was momentarily very tempted to write in a bunch of flashback scenes. I managed to limit myself to the prologue, since a ton of flashbacks would have undercut the spirit of a Christie mystery.
I did briefly consider writing an entire appendix of scenes to show the abduction with Phlox's stumbling into the abduction and being killed for it. Then, perhaps a scene or two showing Talla's point of view of discovering everything and of Parisi getting away. After, everyone frantically careening around the system tracking down leads and coming up short, meanwhile while the police are terrorizing Travis and the poor Arboreal Xindi nanny, Zia. And then to have Daisy's body discovered, and Erika Hernandez miscarrying and dying. Trip, T'Pol and Malcolm taking off on a suicide mission to find Parisi, and things go wrong. Malcom coming back with a dead Trip and T'Pol but captured Parisi. Only to have Parisi threaten the DA's kid and get a sweetheart deal and disappear, and then have Jon take his life and everyone left wondering what just happened.
You might think: 'But, BetaBass, reading a depressing grief train of a series of horrific events would be awful!' Think I'm mean now? I was seriously trying to decide whether to have Parisi kill Porthos during the kidnapping, too, or whether to have Porthos die of old age/depression right before/after Archer's suicide. In the end, I decided I couldn't pull off a John Wick style revenge plot satisfying enough for mistreating Porthos. See? I do have boundaries …
Finally: I realize this story is a little niche and somewhat pigeon-holed, given that it's primarily designed for people who enjoy both Star Trek: Enterprise and Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. I mainly wrote it for my own entertainment, but I'm glad if it gives even a couple of people a good read, especially with so many people going stir-crazy from sheltering in place. Thanks for sticking it out!