“I have not, nor have my colleagues,” Givvrac repeated firmly. “Those of first class do not mingle with those of third while aboard the train.”
Bayta nudged me, and I looked over Givvrac’s shoulder to see that Kennrick had reappeared on our side of the car, a pair of drinks in hand. “Thank you for your openness and honesty,” l said to the Filly, inclining my head. “Perhaps we can speak now of the other possible motive for these horrific crimes, namely that of revenge. Can you think of any reason why someone would be carrying anger or hatred toward either Master Colix or Master Bofiv?”
“Here we go,” Kennrick said as he came up to the table. He set the drinks down and then resumed his seat beside Givvrac. “My apologies for the delay.”
“No apologies required,” Givvrac said. “As to your question, Mr. Compton, I believe it would be inappropriate for me to speak of another’s life after his voice is silenced.”
“I understand,” I said, suppressing a grimace. Was it inappropriate to gossip about the deceased at all, or was it only inappropriate because Kennrick was now back in the conversation? “In that case. I think that’s all I need for the moment, I thank you deeply for your time and wisdom, Usantra Givvrac.”
“You are welcome,” Givvrac said. “Feel free to approach me with further questions if you have the need. Will you also wish to speak with Esantra Worrbin, Asantra Muzzfor, or Asantra Dallilo?”
“Perhaps later,” I said. “If I do, I’ll be sure to obtain your permission first.”
“No need,” he said. “I hereby grant you open access to all Filiaelians under my authority aboard this train.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, inclining my head again. Fillies weren’t the obsessive sticklers for protocol that Juriani were, but they had definite ideas of rank and chain of command. Violating those rules would burn whatever goodwill I might have started with, and could conceivably get the whole crowd of them to clam up on me completely. With Givvrac’s carte blanche in hand, at least I didn’t have to worry about that.
“Then we take our leave.” Givvrac said, placing both hands on the table and carefully getting to his feet. “Perhaps, Mr. Kennrick, you’ll assist me back to the bar area?”
“Certainly,” Kennrick said, scrambling quickly to his feet and holding out a hand where the Filly could grab it if necessary. “Compton, could you give me a hand with the drinks? I can’t handle both of them and offer Usantra Givvrac assistance at the same time.”
“Certainly,” I said, standing up.
“No need,” Givvrac said, waving me down again. “My drink has lost its taste, and Mr. Kennrick can easily handle his own.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s no trouble, I assure you.”
“I’m sure,” Givvrac said. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Compton. Mr. Kennrick?”
“Ready,” Kennrick said, picking op his own drink. As I sat down again, they turned away and started across the dining room.
And then, two steps away, Givvrac paused and retraced his steps back to our table. “One other thing, Mr. Compton,” he said. “If I may be so bold as to offer you advice in your area of expertise.”
“In my area of expertise there’s always more to learn,” I assured him, gesturing to the chair he’d just vacated. “Please speak on.”
“Thank you,” he said, making no move to sit down. “You stated that the motives for murder were passion, profit, and revenge. In your place. I would consider two additional possibilities.”
“Those being?” I asked.
“The first is honor,” he said. “With Filiaelians and Shorshians alike, damage or endangerment to one’s honor can be reason to eliminate the one who presents that threat. I don’t know if Humans feel similar motivations.”
“We do, though perhaps to a different degree,” I told him.
“And to varying degrees within our species,” Kennrick added. “Certainly there are Earth cultures that hold honor very important.”
“True,” I said. “And the second motive, Usantra Givvrac?”
His eyes burned into me. “Insanity.”
For a moment the word hung in the air like a bubble of black in a dark gray silence. Then, Givvrac gave me a final nod. “Thank you for your time. Mr. Compton. Good day.”
“Good day, Usantra Givvrac,” I replied. “Good health to you.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “We shall see.”
He headed back across the dining area, Kennrick at his side. “What do you think?” I asked Bayta.
“I was just wondering if Mr. Kennrick has figured out who was on which side of the contract discussion,” she said, her voice thoughtful.
“If Mr. Kennrick is worth anywhere near his salt, one would certainly hope so,” I said.
“Could he want the contract enough to kill to make sure it went through?”
“Possibly.” I said. “The problem with that theory is that, at the moment, two-thirds of the poisoning victims were already on his side.”
“Unless he misread their intentions.”
“True,” I said. “But if we’re going down the profit side of the street, it would make more sense if the killer was on the other side of the deadlock.”
“Master Tririn?”
“He certainly shows promise,” I said. “He’s opposed to the contract, and he had easy access to two of the victims.”
“But not to the third,” Bayta pointed out. “Di-Master Strinni was in first class, where Master Tririn wouldn’t have been able to get to him.”
“Unless Strinni liked to go back and visit the others like Kennrick did,” I said. “Givvrac implied that he didn’t, but Givvrac may not know for sure. Or Tririn might have come up here if someone in first asked for him.”
Bayta frowned into space. “No one asked Master Tririn to come forward,” she said.
I shrugged. “It was a long shot. It’s not like Master Tririn’s been in high demand around the train the way Dr. Aronobal and Dr. Witherspoon have.”
“True,” Bayta agreed. “It also occurs to me that we only have Usantra Givvrac’s word that Master Tririn was actually opposed to the Pellorian contract.”
“Very good.” I said approvingly. “As I told Givvrac. investigations require questions and answers. But you don’t necessarily believe those answers. Any other thoughts?”
“Just this.” She pointed at Givvrac’s abandoned drink. “Do you know what this is?”
I picked it up and gave the contents a sniff. The concoction had a tangy, exotic aroma, but with no scent of alcohol that I could detect. “Not a clue,” I said.
“It’s miccrano,” she said. “A traditional Filiaelian remedy for serious stomach and digestive trouble.”
“Is it, now,” I said, eyeing the drink with new interest. “Sounds like he may be feeling more than just a bit delicate. Has he had a chat with either of our two doctors?”
Bayta’s eyes defocused as she again consulted with the Spiders. As she did so, the server appeared from the rear of the dining area with the meals we’d ordered before Kennrick first came to our table. I’d actually expected the food to show up during our conversation, which could have been a little awkward since Givvrac would certainly have insisted on a polite departure. Knowing Bayta, she’d probably telepathically instructed the Spider to hold the meals until we’d finished and our visitors had left.
Bayta’s eyes came back. “He had a conductor bring Dr. Aronobal up from third class about an hour ago,” she reported. “Dr. Aronobal is the one who recommended the miccrano to him.”
“Which also probably explains why Kennrick was here instead of in his compartment.” I said as the Spider set our plates in front of us. “Givvrac would have been in the bar, working through his tummy-soothers, when Kennrick passed by on his way to lie down. Do we know how many of them he had?”