Nemesis

‘It’s a ritual,’ said Daig, with a certainty that seemed to come from nowhere. ‘It can’t be anything else.’ He put the blade aside and gestured at the scattered files. As well as the tide of paperwork from the airdock murder, packets of fiche and other picts had arrived from a couple of the sub-precincts in the nearby arroyo territories, automatically flagged by the reports of the incident sent out on the planetwide watch-wire. There had been other deaths, and while the nature of them had not been exactly the same as Jaared Norte’s, elements of similar methodology were expressed in each. Daig had suggested that their killer was ‘maturing’ with each assault, growing more confident in what they wished to convey with their deeds.

This was not Iesta Veracrux’s first serial murder spree. But it seemed different from all the others that had gone before it, in a manner that Yosef could not yet fully articulate.

‘What I don’t fathom,’ began a voice from behind them, ‘is how in Stars the bugger got the poor fool up on the ceiling.’ Yosef and Daig turned to where Reeve Warden Berts Laimner stood, a fan of picts in his meaty paw. Laimner was a big man, dark-skinned and always smiling, even now in a small way at the sight of Norte’s grotesque death; but the warm expression was always a falsehood, masking a character that was self-serving and oily. ‘What do you think, Sabrat?’

Yosef framed a noncommittal answer. ‘We’re looking into that, Warden.’

Laimner gave a chuckle that set Yosef’s teeth on edge and discarded the images. ‘Well, I hope you’ve got a better reply than that up your sleeve.’ He pointed across the room to an entranceway. ‘The High-Reeve is just outside that door. She wants to weigh in on this.’

Daig actually let out a little groan, and Yosef felt himself sag inside. If the precinct commander was putting her hand on this case, then the investigators could be certain that their job was about to become twice as hard.

As if Laimner’s words had been a magical summons, the door opened and High-Reeve Kata Telemach entered the office with an assistant trailing her. Telemach’s appearance was like a shock going through the room, and every reeve and jager scrambled to look as if they were working hard and being diligent. She didn’t appear to notice, instead making a direct line for Yosef and Daig. The woman was wearing a well-pressed dress uniform, and around her neck was a gold rod with one single silver band around it.

‘I was just telling Reeves Sabrat and Segan of your interest, ma’am,’ said Laimner.

The commander seemed distracted. ‘Progress?’ she asked. The woman had a sharp face and hard eyes.

‘We’re building a solid foundation,’ offered Daig, equally as good at giving non-answers as his cohort was. He swallowed. ‘There are some matters of cross-jurisdictional circumstance that might become an issue later, however.’ He was about to say more, but Telemach shot Laimner a look as if to say Haven’t you dealt with this already?

‘That will not be a concern, Reeve. I have just returned from an audience with the Lord Marshal of the Adeptus Arbites.’

‘Oh?’ Yosef tried to keep any sarcasm out of his voice.

Telemach went on. ‘The Arbites have a lot of wine in their glass at the moment. They’re engaged in a few operations across the planet. This… case doesn’t need to be added to that workload.’

Operations. That seemed to be the current word of choice to describe the actions of the Arbites on Iesta Veracrux. A colourless, open term that belied the reality of what they were actually doing – which was quietly dredging the lower cities and the upper echelons alike for the slightest evidence of any anti-Imperial sedition and pro-Horus thinking, ruthlessly stamping out anything that might blossom into actual treason.

‘It’s only bodies,’ noted Laimner, in an off-hand manner.

‘Exactly,’ said the High-Reeve. ‘And quite frankly, the Sentine are better suited for this sort of police work. The Arbites are not native to this world, and we are. We know it better than they ever will.’

‘Just so,’ offered Yosef.

Telemach graced them with a tight smile. ‘I want to deal with this in a swift and firm manner. I think the Lord Marshal and his masters back on Terra could do with a reminder that we Iestans can deal with our own problems.’

Yosef nodded here, partly because he knew he was supposed to, and partly because Telemach had just confirmed for him her real reason for wanting the case closed quickly. It was no secret that the High-Reeve had designs on the rank of Landgrave, head of all Sentine forces across the planet; and for her to get that, the current incumbent – and so the rumours went, her lover – would need to rise to the only role open to him, the Imperial Governorship of the planet. The Landgrave’s only real competition for that posting was the Lord Marshal of the Arbites. Showing a decisive posture towards a crime like this one would count for a lot when the time for new installations was nigh.