Victimology

Posted on Mon 15th Jan, 2018 @ 5:27am by Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant JG Kellian Michaels
Edited on on Mon 28th May, 2018 @ 9:50pm

1,483 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: A Phaser as Deadly as a Candlestick
Location: Security Department, Deck 574
Timeline: 239311.02 0830 hours

Everyone in Security looked as busy as he was, Paul thought as he entered Security and glanced at the officers at their workstations. Most of them felt as if they were in deep concentration, except for the two or three who were craving coffee and seemed unable to concentrate on anything but that feeling. He paused at the door with Kellian Michaels' name on it and pressed the chime.

The doors slid open immediately, indicating to Paul that the door was closed just to block out noise and not to keep people away. Michaels was speaking into his combadge. He stood for a moment and gestured for Paul to come inside, which Paul did. The door slid closed again, and Paul swiftly glanced about Michaels' office as he took the seat that the acting security chief indicated. Michaels sat back down after Paul did.

There wasn't much to see--no personal effects aside from a small portrait that Paul glanced at with some interest, and a Rubik's Cube whose upper two layers were solved. Everything else was scarily tidy, except for what Michaels was currently working on--which consisted of a PADD or two and a stylus.

At last, Michaels ended his conversation and gave Paul his full attention. Paul wondered if his patients felt the same way when they came to visit him--as if they were being studied. Michaels wasn't obnoxious about it, but Paul did feel as if he was under Michaels' direct scrutiny for a few moments before the security officer's gaze or perhaps just his posture relaxed.

"Thank you for coming, Commander. I wanted to discuss your observations from the seance at Dr. Addams' Halloween party. We're trying to identify the victim who was found yesterday morning. Would you mind coming with me into one of our interview rooms?"

"So you can record the interview?" Paul asked.

"Yes, sir. Not that I think you'll be anything but truthful, but it's standard procedure."

Perhaps that was why the intense study, Paul realized. Not being an empath, Michaels had to rely solely on nonverbal cues to detect lies and emotions. An unaccountable feeling of relief filled him. I guess no one, no matter how innocent, likes talking to law enforcement in the midst of a crime investigation, he decided as he followed Michaels into another room that was even more boring than the man's office. It contained a table, three chairs, a large mirror, and nothing else. Michaels offered him a soft drink and brought him some water when Paul requested that, instead.

"Your interview room needs some nice wall art," he informed Michaels as they both sat down at the table.

Michaels snickered. "The difference between your profession and mine is that I don't want the people I interview to be distracted. Anyway...The purpose of this interview is to gain any insight you might have into the identity of the victim and his killer, and the circumstances of his death. I'm particularly interested in talking to you because you're an empath and because I've been told you fainted during the experience. Clearly, the event affected you more powerfully than it did the other guests. I hope that means you have more vivid impressions of the event. Could you please describe what happened just before you witnessed the crime and how you witnessed the crime?"

"We were all at Dr. Addams' Halloween party," Paul said. "it was 0000 hours when we all sat down at her dining room table around a crystal sphere in a decorative holder and clasped hands. Chlamydia began a recitation--some sort of invitation to any spirits of the dead wishing to visit to make themselves known. Apparently, it's an old custom of her family. Since no one present considered themselves a medium Chlamydia said that, if the spirits couldn't speak, to communicate through the crystal sphere--and so they did."

"Who was present at the seance?" Michaels asked.

"A surprisingly large number of people." Paul began listing names, which Michaels wrote down. He described where everyone was sitting in relation to him and described the room lighting and other details.

"I hope I get to go to her next party," Kellian said, "but I would have passed on attending the seance."

"I can well understand why you would feel that way," Paul said dryly. He knew that the security officer had once been a direct witness to a murder.

"What did you see in the crystal ball, sir?"

"The strangest thing--the victim's bare skull, first. Then it looked as if the skin and muscles of his face grew over it. The next thing I saw was him tied to a chair, looking at his killer's chest as she was bent over him, standing very close. I think she meant to distract the victim with her, ah, rather shapely appearance, which she succeeded in doing. He didn't realize that she truly meant to kill him until an instant before the knife went in."

"What did you feel from the victim?" Michaels asked.

Paul thought a moment. "Well...I felt cocksure arrogance covering fear, from him. I think he didn't want her to know how afraid he was, so he did his best to behave casually, in the hope of defusing the situation. He even said, in a rather dismissive tone, 'So what are you going to do, kill me for it?' or words similar," Paul said. "He was... purposely breathing slowly and keeping his body as relaxed as possible."

Michaels made a note of that. "And the murder itself?"

Paul grimaced, remembering. "It hurt like hell. A kidney stone might hurt worse, but that's a big 'might.' She just went straight in and right back out. It was over in an instant." He gestured, mimicking the movement and its speed. "But he felt every millimeter of the blade going in, until he couldn't breathe or feel anymore. Part of what caused me to collapse was that he couldn't hold his own body up, and so neither could I."

Michaels nodded. "That was corroborated by the autopsy findings. What was he thinking at the time of death?"

"Primarily, I got his emotions," Paul said. "I'm not much of a telepath with people I don't know well. The victim was desperate that someone know where he was. What I got from him was a torrent of information about his last moments--the size of the room he was in, its furnishings and occupants. Besides his killer there were two others standing behind where the victim was seated--muscle, I think. The victim really didn't think twice about them. His attention was mainly devoted to the woman who killed him--her perfume, a suggestion of hair. I never heard her speak, and I'm sure I wouldn't be able to recognize her perfume. It was a flowery scent, but nothing familiar to me."

"You got no sense of his identity?" Michaels asked.

Paul shook his head. "Identity is such a basic part of personality that we never think about it; we take it as a given. This man was more afraid of no one knowing where he was, than of no one knowing who he was. All I can tell you about the victim is that he was a self-assured, even competent, risk taker who thought he could handle even this situation until he abruptly realized he was in over his head."

"What about the killer? From your description of events, it seems clear to me that the victim knew her. He never thought of her name?"

"No," Paul replied. "I believe the psychic impression we received came just milliseconds before brain death--meaning he projected it after receiving the mortal wound. it was a last-ditch effort, more a psychic cry for help containing about as much useful information as the word itself. He was suffocating because she'd severed his spinal cord and pierced his trachea. He sent a lot of vivid information, but it wasn't facts and figures or names, just desperation and I'm HERE!"

Michaels sighed. "Well, that's a pisser. FFIS is taking a while--it always does--and I was hoping you could provide a short-cut."

Paul gave him a brief nod. "Was the news report correct, that he was found near Pale Moon Books on the same deck as Chlamydia's home?"

"Mm-hm," Michaels said.

"What is it they say about disease vectors--that the source is where the highest concentration of sick people is? Presuming the murderess and her two accomplices didn't have access to a transporter, my bet is that the victim was killed close to where he was found. It's hard to move a dead body around on a starbase unless you're medical personnel."

Michaels made a face at Paul. "Believe me, the possibility that he was beamed to Deck 1554 is part of what kept me awake last night."

 

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