I got the cuff in place around Smith's right jacket sleeve. "Ready," I said.
He punched the start button. There was a brief hum that shifted into a soft chugging sound as the respirator kicked in. "You know how to read this?" he asked, peering at the LifeGuard's display.
"Green is good; red is bad," I said. "For anything more complicated, we'll need a Spider."
He grunted. "I think they're all off hunting up a Human doctor," he said. "What's your name?"
"Compton," I said. "Yours?"
"Morse," he said. "What's your relationship with him?"
"Haven't got one," I said.
"Really?" Morse asked, turning his blue eyes on me again. "You were having a rather intense conversation earlier in the dining car."
"He invited himself to our table to offer me a job," I said.
"What kind of job?"
"Unspecified," I said. "Also unaccepted. End of story."
"Did he give you a name?"
"Smith."
Morse grunted. "So what happened here?"
"I heard a scream and found him bleeding in the corridor."
"Did you move him?"
"I rolled him onto his back to clear his windpipe," I said. "Nothing more."
Morse let out a hiss between his teeth and glanced over his shoulder at the vestibule. "Where the hell's that doctor?"
"They probably had to go all the way back to third to find one," I said. "Unless you know any working doctors who can afford first-class Quadrail seats."
"Not many, no," he conceded, his eyes shifting pointedly to my neat but hardly expensive suit. "Speaking of affording things, may I ask what you're doing up here?"
"Traveling legally and minding my own business," I said.
"Are you paying for your compartment yourself?"
"I have a rich uncle," I said, pointedly running my eyes down his own suit. "What's your excuse?"
He eyed me a moment as if wondering if he should challenge my conclusion. "I'm here on business," he said instead.
"You have one hell of a generous boss," I said. "You want to get Smith's wallet, or should I do it?"
Morse gave me a measuring look, then slipped a hand inside the bloodied suit coat, probing one side's pockets and then the other. "Not here," he said. "Hopefully, it's in his compartment and not in someone else's pocket."
The LifeGuard gave a soft beep, and the display lights went solid red. "Damn," I said.
"Keep it going," Morse said, pushing the start button again. "At least until the doctor gets here. What's your business in the Bellidosh Estates-General, Mr. Comp-ton?"
"What's your reason for asking?" I countered. Maybe a little too tartly, but my back was aching where I'd hit the floor and I was getting tired of the interrogation.
"I'm attempting to establish some facts," Morse said. "You were found here on the scene, remember."
"Your lady friend was here first," I reminded him.
"The lady couldn't have done this by herself."
"Maybe she had help."
"Maybe I'm looking at it," Morse said, letting his voice go deep and ominous.
The LifeGuard beeped, and again the red lights came on. "You want to try for three out of three?" I asked. "Or shall we let the grim reaper have him?"
Morse's answer was to hit the start button again.
Mentally, I shook my head. I knew the quality of the Spiders' medical equipment, and if the LifeGuard said the victim was dead, he was dead. All Morse was going to accomplish by running the cycle again was to cover his own rear in case of an inquiry. "No, by all means let's run it again," I said. "We don't want to look like we're doing nothing when the doctor gets here."
Morse's eyes narrowed. "I don't think I like your attitude. Mr. Compton."
"Then let me get it out of your face." I offered, standing up and starting back toward my compartment door.
Morse was faster, jumping to his feet and inserting his shoulder between me and the door. "Certainly," he said. "After I have a look inside."
He was half a head taller than I was, and probably better muscled. The mood I was rapidly sliding into, I didn't care. "When hell freezes over or the Spiders elect you king," I told him. "Get out of my way."
"I don't think so," Morse said, extending an arm across the doorway to block it. "The victim was definitely beaten in the privacy of a compartment. It's only an assumption that it was done in his compartment." He raised his eyebrows. "And we have only your word that you hadn't arranged an after-dinner meeting with him."
"All very true," I agreed. "Tell me again why that means I should let you grub around my compartment."
"Because I'm entitled," he said. Pulling out a wallet, he snapped it open to reveal the gold-and-platinum badge and matching ID card of the EuroUnion Security Service. "Special Agent Ackerley Morse, ESS," he said quietly, his voice gone suddenly very formal. "You, Mr. Compton, are under suspicion of murder."
There was only one Human doctor aboard, and the Spiders did indeed have to haul him all the way up from third class. By the time he arrived, I'd allowed Morse a quick look at my compartment.
Technically, I didn't have to. Inside a Quadrail Tube the only laws or regulations that applied were those of the Spiders. But Morse had clearly latched on to this theory that I'd enticed Smith to his doom, and letting him into my compartment seemed the simplest way of defusing it.
Sure enough, and to his obvious disappointment, he didn't find any bloodstains or other telltale signs of mayhem.
The doctor fussed over Smith's body a few minutes before pronouncing him dead. One of the conductor Spiders opened compartment eleven, and with his help Morse carried the body inside.
There we did find blood. Lots of it.
"Cause of death was massive trauma and internal bleeding," the doctor told Morse as he covered the dead man's bruised face with the bed's blanket. "There may have been an underlying heart problem, as well. No way to tell without a full autopsy."
"I'll see if the Spiders at Bellis Station can give you access to an examination room," Morse said. He'd found Smith's wallet in an evening jacket in the sonic cleaning rack and was sorting through it. a frown creasing his face.
"I'm sorry, but I won't be able to help you with that." the doctor said as he cleaned his hands. "I'm on my way to a conference on Bellis, and I'm already running late."
"I can order you to assist," Morse warned him.
"No, you can't," I said. "He hasn't committed any crime, except possibly to annoy you." I gestured the doctor toward the door. "Thanks for your help. Enjoy your conference."
"Thank you." he said, glowering briefly at Morse as he closed his bag. "I'll leave a report with one of the conductors before we reach Bellis."
He stepped to the doorway. The conductor standing watch from the corridor tapped his seven-legged way to the side to let him pass, then resumed his silent vigil. "Thank you so very much," Morse growled, unloading a standard-issue ESS glare at me with both barrels. "You have any idea how important a timely autopsy is in collecting and preserving evidence?"
"Absolutely," I assured him. "I also know it's no less important than a close examination of the crime scene. You probably aren't going to get that, either."
Morse looked around the room as if suddenly remembering where we were. "You're right. I'll need the Spiders to detach the car."
"Good luck." I said. "Unfortunately, this train has a schedule to keep, and that schedule includes a compartment car pulling out with the rest of it. If they've got a spare at Bellis they can throw in on the spur of the moment, you might get lucky. Otherwise, forget it."