Read Online Tunnels 05 - Spiral by Roderick Gordon - Free Book Online
Authors: Roderick Gordon
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policeman. An uncle on the Board of Governors had propelled him up the ranks, and for that he was universally disliked by his fellow officers.
The Second Officer was the first to admit that he wasn’t the brightest orb in the Colony, but he had what his sister called “Earth Smarts” — he was streetwise and shrewd enough to get by. And he’d been promoted to his current rank based on his determination and years of sheer hard graft.
The Third Officer was mumbling again.
“Shush a minute,” the Second Officer silenced him, moving on to the next corpse. “Grayson . . . a stonemason,” he said. As he rolled the body over to inspect the gunshot wound in it, the ace of hearts slid from where it had been concealed in the man’s sleeve.
Clutching his forehead, the Third Officer had staggered to his feet and was pointing at the last of the bodies. “And Cresswell’s cousin, Walsh,” he said.
“Yes, so I see. Another precise shot to the neck,” the Second Officer observed. It was indeed Heraldo Walsh, a heavily muscled, squat man with a distinctive red scarf tied around his neck. The Second Officer scratched his chin as he pieced the scene together. “So Cresswell and Grayson were playing cards . . . gambling with these packs of tobacco as the stakes,” he said, inclining his head at the foil packets lying among the scattered cards. “They argued, probably because Grayson was trying to bamboozle him, then Walsh came to his cousin’s aid.”
“When I stepped in to break up the fight, all three started on me instead,” the Third Officer said. “And a mob had formed — I thought they were going to lynch me.”
The Second Officer blew through his lips. “These days people have no respect for the law,” he said, knowing there was a single and rather crucial piece of the puzzle still missing. He thought he knew the answer, but he had to ask the question. “And who fired the sh —?” He clammed up immediately as he became aware of the Limiter. The soldier had materialized behind him like a ghost, his rifle at his shoulder. This was no great surprise in itself; it was general knowledge that Limiters had been drafted to stop pilfering from the penny bun fields deeper in the cavern.
And the Limiter’s presence explained how the men had been killed with such extreme precision, but the Second Officer was still more than a little bemused by one of the deaths. It was generally known that Heraldo Walsh had been in the pay of the Styx, snooping on Colonists for them and occasionally stirring things up when it suited them. Not exactly a model citizen, Walsh had led a charmed life until this moment, getting away with far more than most Colonists because of the latitude the Styx granted him.
“Took your time getting here,” the Limiter snarled in a low voice. The Second Officer was about to explain that he’d traveled all the way down from the Quarter, when the Limiter kicked Heraldo Walsh’s head.
The Second Officer didn’t have much cause to deal with Limiters, and quite frankly, they terrified the living daylights out of him. He steeled himself to say something, because he would need to know all the facts for his report on the incident.
“Although they assaulted a policeman, I don’t see any weapons on these men. Was it necessary to shoot them?”
The Limiter snapped his head toward the Second Officer, bringing the full force of his eyes on him. They were like two points of fire set deep in the man’s grizzled and scarred face. The Second Officer was a seasoned policeman, and he’d seen some truly horrible things in his time, but now he shivered. It was as though he were peering through twin windows into hell itself.
“It’s up to you to take care of your own,” the Limiter growled. “You weren’t here.”
The Second Officer swallowed a “Yes,” then looked away from the soldier. He knew he should remain silent, but he continued nervously, “There’ll need to be an inquiry. We’ll move the
The Second Officer was the first to admit that he wasn’t the brightest orb in the Colony, but he had what his sister called “Earth Smarts” — he was streetwise and shrewd enough to get by. And he’d been promoted to his current rank based on his determination and years of sheer hard graft.
The Third Officer was mumbling again.
“Shush a minute,” the Second Officer silenced him, moving on to the next corpse. “Grayson . . . a stonemason,” he said. As he rolled the body over to inspect the gunshot wound in it, the ace of hearts slid from where it had been concealed in the man’s sleeve.
Clutching his forehead, the Third Officer had staggered to his feet and was pointing at the last of the bodies. “And Cresswell’s cousin, Walsh,” he said.
“Yes, so I see. Another precise shot to the neck,” the Second Officer observed. It was indeed Heraldo Walsh, a heavily muscled, squat man with a distinctive red scarf tied around his neck. The Second Officer scratched his chin as he pieced the scene together. “So Cresswell and Grayson were playing cards . . . gambling with these packs of tobacco as the stakes,” he said, inclining his head at the foil packets lying among the scattered cards. “They argued, probably because Grayson was trying to bamboozle him, then Walsh came to his cousin’s aid.”
“When I stepped in to break up the fight, all three started on me instead,” the Third Officer said. “And a mob had formed — I thought they were going to lynch me.”
The Second Officer blew through his lips. “These days people have no respect for the law,” he said, knowing there was a single and rather crucial piece of the puzzle still missing. He thought he knew the answer, but he had to ask the question. “And who fired the sh —?” He clammed up immediately as he became aware of the Limiter. The soldier had materialized behind him like a ghost, his rifle at his shoulder. This was no great surprise in itself; it was general knowledge that Limiters had been drafted to stop pilfering from the penny bun fields deeper in the cavern.
And the Limiter’s presence explained how the men had been killed with such extreme precision, but the Second Officer was still more than a little bemused by one of the deaths. It was generally known that Heraldo Walsh had been in the pay of the Styx, snooping on Colonists for them and occasionally stirring things up when it suited them. Not exactly a model citizen, Walsh had led a charmed life until this moment, getting away with far more than most Colonists because of the latitude the Styx granted him.
“Took your time getting here,” the Limiter snarled in a low voice. The Second Officer was about to explain that he’d traveled all the way down from the Quarter, when the Limiter kicked Heraldo Walsh’s head.
The Second Officer didn’t have much cause to deal with Limiters, and quite frankly, they terrified the living daylights out of him. He steeled himself to say something, because he would need to know all the facts for his report on the incident.
“Although they assaulted a policeman, I don’t see any weapons on these men. Was it necessary to shoot them?”
The Limiter snapped his head toward the Second Officer, bringing the full force of his eyes on him. They were like two points of fire set deep in the man’s grizzled and scarred face. The Second Officer was a seasoned policeman, and he’d seen some truly horrible things in his time, but now he shivered. It was as though he were peering through twin windows into hell itself.
“It’s up to you to take care of your own,” the Limiter growled. “You weren’t here.”
The Second Officer swallowed a “Yes,” then looked away from the soldier. He knew he should remain silent, but he continued nervously, “There’ll need to be an inquiry. We’ll move the
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