No Bearskins, but...

Posted on Mon 19th Aug, 2019 @ 9:18am by Lieutenant JG Kellian Michaels

652 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Security Offices
Timeline: MD 6, 15:15

"Hey, Michaels," Muffet Langston said, stopping beside his desk. At least two of her eyes were focused on the investigation officer; the other four detail eyes seemed to be looking at something in her forehands.

"Hi, Muffet," Kellian said, looking up at her from the report he was writing. "Computer, music off." The low-volume recording of a woman's voice singing, "Ideo, gloria in excelsis Deo." abruptly went silent. "How's the interrogation thing going? They finally let you take a break?"

"Hmm? Yeah; I don't really know what I'm doing on the review panel, anyway. There's very little forensic evidence to examine." She handed over the folder in her hands. "Your favorite psychic sends you a drawing of Briggs' attacker. Looking at him, I had a thought."

"Purulence Addams brought us another one? I wonder what got her on the Briggs case?" Kellian opened the folder and actually flinched. "Talk about childhood nightmares," he muttered under his breath. "She makes it look like the guy is ready to lunge out of the page and stab you, doesn't she?" He shook his head. "What's your thought?"

"Stabbing, actually." Muffet grinned. "Remember the homicide in The Angry Targ? That was the first case you and I worked together, I think? Anyway, you remember I hypothesized the killer likely wasn't Klingon, because they'd left the knife? Nobody ever claimed it, by the bye. But not the point." She paused, grinned, waggling her upper pair of eyelids. "Knife... point... get it?"

"The point is this... Klingons like knives because they're flashy and scary and there's blood everywhere when you have a knife fight, but it's rarely fatal, except by accident." Muffet waved one of her hands, brushing something away. "I mean, yes; you get in a knife fight, and everybody gets cut. But that's the thing... there in the Targ, nobody did. One strike, boof, dead. Two more cuts, which Doctor Addams says were postmortem. One strike, one kill. That takes training. That takes practice. That takes muscle. You follow?"

"Yes. That's pretty much what we said at the time. I wouldn't even have called it a knife fight; I'd have called it a good, old-fashioned, Italian Renaissance assassination," Kellian said. "Not normal in the day and age of beam weapons. This guy here," he said, pointing to the sketch, "Looks more like he's on a revenge kick. Still, his attack would have killed Briggs from the pneumothorax alone, if the airlock alarm hadn't alerted help in time."

Muffet nodded. "That's what I'm saying. We've got an uncommon attack in each case. The same uncommon attack. I'm just wondering if maybe we should like this guy for the Targ thing."

"Hm. We could run a reconstructional analysis of the two attacks and see if the attacker's measurements match in both cases," Kellian said. "Do we have the report from Sickbay yet?"

Muffet drew her PADD from one of the pockets on her utility belt. "Survey says... yes!" She flipped the file through the local network to Kellian's PADD. "Here's a copy. I'll get my geeks, nerds, and dorks working on the reconstructions and analysis thereof."

"All right; I'll take a look." Kellian looked at Muffet. "Something weird about that image--That's not the way Purulence Addams worked, the first time. The first time she did art for us, she was looking at an image in a crystal ball during a seance. So how did she get this image, I wonder--especially considering Briggs' attacker was behind him?"

Muffet shrugged. "I only deal with physical evidence of clear provenance. The ways of the psychic are beyond me." She paused, though, and then, in a deep and creepy voice, "who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Addams knows!" She followed it with a classic wicked-witch cackle.

"She probably does," Kellian said with a laugh. "I hope they'll hold another Halloween party this year."

 

RSS Feed

Comments (1)