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than possibly getting
him involved in something that got him killed. Hell, his murder could be just
what it looks like.”
    “You don’t believe that any more than I do.” Iaido
set down his beer and turned to face the fed. “You know I have to investigate
this? I owe it to my friend.”
    “I know.”
    “Are you going to get in my way?”
    “Mr. Spartan, the last place I want to be is in
your way. I value my life too much.”
    “You know who I am?”
    Finishing his beer, Special Agent Johnson set his
glass on the bar. “Yes and no; officially, your records are sealed. No one
below Council level clearance can access them but I have my suspicions.”
    “Which are?”
    “I know you were a member of Omega Squadron and
judging from your hunting record I would say you were advanced recon. Judging
from your movements, I would say you are highly trained in close combat. I know
you served time in New Leavenworth after Gilese. As to why you were sentenced
to there I don’t know…yet.”
    “Not bad for a Fed. You surprise me. I thought all
bureaucrats were closed minded and narrow thinkers.”
    “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or an
insult,” Special Agent Johnson said. “But I’ll take that as a compliment. Would
you like to fill in the gaps?”
    Iaido placed his empty mug on the counter and
turned back to the Fed.
    “Let me tell you an ancient parable. Before going
on a long journey a wealthy merchant took his life’s savings and entrusted it
to a friend for safekeeping; only the merchant and the friend know about this
transaction. However, the merchant was killed during the trip, leaving his
family penniless. The friend has four choices; he can keep the money since no one
knows of the transaction; covet the money for a short time until overcome by
guilt before giving the money to the widow; hoard the money for a time until
fear that someone knows of the transaction prompts him to give the money to the
widow; or give the money to the merchant’s widow outright.” Iaido stood up and asked,
“What is the moral of the story?”
    Special Agent Johnson shook his head. “I have no
idea. What the hell is it supposed to mean?”
    “When you discover that, then it will be time to
learn more.” As he left the bar, his comlink chimed. Tapping the receive button
he said, “Spartan.”
    “Hiya boss,” came Diana’s cheerful voice.
    Moving through the commuter traffic, Iaido scanned
the crowd out of habit. Mostly watching hands and hips; hands for weapons, hips
for concealed weapons or out of place movement.
    “What do you have for me, Diana?”
    “Two things; Sensei called to ask you to stop by.”
    “I am on my way there now.”
    “And I have that autopsy report for you, it took a
bit of creative hacking but I have it. I was impressed at the level of security
of the coroner. It was more elaborate than the Feds’ database.”
    Approaching the tram, Iaido flashed his bounty
hunter credentials to the clerk and bypassed the security station and the line
of waiting commuters.
    “Enlightening but what did you find?”
    “Well, according to the report the coroner did a
full battery of tests but found no trace of any known toxins or drugs. He also
did a cellular scan for any chemical or biological agents; none detected. Only two
strange findings, the wife had two small puncture wounds on the base of her neck
that don’t correspond to any known bite marks. And secondly, there seemed to be
less blood loss than normal considering her wounds.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Just one note about Amy’s wound; it was
self-inflicted and by the way, it was not a single stab wound as reported in
the Feds’ files. It was actually a single slash wound to her jugular vein; she
would’ve bled out in less than a minute. This was after she bound her legs
together with a towel.”
    “Jigai.”
    “What was that?”
    “Jigai was a form of seppuku, an ancient form of
ritual suicide from feudal Japan,” Iaido explained.