Chapter 14

Perhaps Willem Abramson is right, thought Brown as he watched Kostopoulos feed a camera cable into the open vent while he watched its footage on a padd. Starfleet could learn to trust automation. He couldn't help feeling that a drone could do this work better.

His instincts had led them back to Bird's quarters and the small vent in the corner, near the ceiling. It had struck him as the perfect hiding place for the elusive laser pistol - if indeed it was the murder weapon.

Starfleet used camera cables to inspect tight spaces like this, and Kostopoulos was familiar with them from her ordnance training, so she had recommended such a device. Standing on a chair, she looked down at him.

"Anything?" she asked.

Brown regarded the padd's display: It showed only the barren passageway of the vent shaft, illuminated by the camera's light.

He shook his head. "There's a corner coming up though; see if you can turn it."

Kostopoulos manipulated the cable so that the end flexed and bent around the corner, continuing to feed it into the vent.

The camera then showed a cylindrical object nearly as long as the shaft was wide.

"There!" Brown shouted. "Got something."

"Use the claws," Kostopoulos said.

He pressed the control she had shown him earlier, and retractable claws - used for minor maintenance work - emerged from the end of the cable, ensnaring the mystery object.

"Withdraw. Slowly," he said.

Kostopoulos started to do so, dragging their quarry along the shaft until it eventually reached the room.

Wearing gloves, Kostopoulos gingerly withdrew the object from the claws and they both now saw that it was unmistakably the clunky black laser pistol in question. Brown had seen Lennoc demonstrate this very weapon two days ago at the expo.

As Kostopoulos stepped down off the chair, Brown took out his scanner and ran it over the pistol.

He frowned. "No DNA traces. Figures."

"We can have it analysed further," Kostopoulos said as she placed the pistol into a clear evidence bag. "There's no doubt its our smoking gun now."

"Just need to attach it to someone…" And figure out how they got in here in the first place, he added silently.

"Why didn't initial sweeps of the room find it?"

Brown sighed. "My people are good, but they're still new to hardcore crimes like this. Probably just scanned the immediate area around the quarters. Guess us Starfleeters are too soft, eh?"

Kostopoulos gave a wry smirk. "Don't worry; when we're all one big, happy service, us MACOs can teach you all a thing or two."

Brown just kept staring at the open vent. Something about it still bothered him.

"The shaft connects to Keenan's quarters, right?" he asked.

The colonel nodded. "Yeah, and about a dozen other points too though. And it's obviously much too small for a humanoid to get through. The murderer likely just tossed the weapon in there, hoping it'd never be found."

Brown stroked his stubbled chin, absently reminding himself to shave and shower when he was less preoccupied.

"If anything," he said, "this only raises more questions…"

Back in the Security Centre, Brown ordered his staff to scan the area around Bird's quarters more thoroughly, paying attention to all connecting points, as well as go over internal sensor logs to see if any vents or hatches were opened by people they shouldn't have been accessed by. He was a little aggressive in his orders, being somewhat annoyed that this hadn't been done in the first place, costing valuable time.

Kostopoulos had taken the laser pistol to one of the science labs for analysis, so he took the opportunity to retire to his office for a few minutes, to let his head rest.

It didn't work out that way though. Thoughts of the case swirled in his head like ships caught in the Antares Maelstrom.

Reena Bird.

Artificial heart.

Locked room.

Laser.

Vent.

T'Ves.

How did it all add up?

To soothe his addled brain, he called up some Kasseelian opera on the computer and leaned back in his chair, eyes shut, as he took in the singer's vibrant tones.

He reflected on the tragedy of Kasseelian prima donnas. They trained their entire lives for just one performance, committing ritual suicide on stage at its conclusion. It was as macabre as the plot of most operas themselves, but some found a nobility in it. That one could never achieve a greater perfection, and so living further was meaningless. The completion of a literal life's work.

Bringing himself back to the case, he wondered if Reena Bird felt like her own work towards a better future had been worthwhile enough to provide some solace despite its premature completion. He doubted that it would provide any comfort.

Then he considered his own zeal to solve the murder. Was he trying to delay the 'death' that was completion, as both North and Sal had suggested? Did he, deep down, crave these twists and turns that complicated the case?

He told himself that justice for Reena is what motivated him, but he could not deny that, on some level, he found this mystery as captivating as it was frustrating.

He couldn't let another killer go free - Heliopolis still burned his guts - but was he perhaps subconsciously overlooking something simple in search of something more 'exciting'?

The intercom interrupted his introspection.

"Doctor T'Ling to Lieutenant Commander Brown."

He switched off the opera and hit the button on his desk. "Go ahead, Doctor."

"Please report to the Infirmary immediately." T'Ling swiftly closed the channel with nothing further.

It was difficult to tell, but she had sounded urgent.

The receptionist in the Infirmary directed Brown to T'Ling's office, where he found her stood behind her desk, looking more sombre than usual. Captain Thorpe and Colonel Kostopoulos were also present, doing good impressions of the doctor.

Sensing the grave air in the room, he asked "What's up?" with trepidation.

Thorpe nodded to T'Ling, who spoke in impassive tones. "I have completed the analysis of all DNA samples recovered from the crime scene."

"Oh?" said Brown, still wary. "What did you find?"

"I have identified the DNA belonging to Ms. Bird herself, as well as the forensics team," said T'Ling. "There was also DNA belonging to Mr. Rasmussen, Mr. Wrigley, and T'Ves. There is only one sample that I was unable to link to anyone."

Brown folded his arms, curious. "Probably Zrae's. The Trill woman. She didn't provide a baseline sample because her culture forbids it."

"That is what I speculated. However, to eliminate all doubt, I had it analysed further. As we could not verify that it belonged to Ms. Zrae, there was no violation of cultural beliefs."

Brown smirked. "Pretty fine line." No one else was smiling. "What did the analysis show?"

"The unidentified DNA," said T'Ling, "is Suliban."