Some people were just born stupid, and Councilor Trask turned out to be one of the top members of that group. He possessed nothing more than feral cunning and had bought a position high enough in Government to hide his secrets, at least for a while. The man did not plan his attacks, but only waited where he knew his prey must pass. On a world with a more significant policing force, he would have been caught sooner.
At least Patera, the head of the small local force, knew enough to quietly call for outside help.
Devlin realized the man's stupidity the moment he gave her a late report to tag and file, and which had to be done before she left the office. That task made certain Devlin would be delayed and likely alone when she headed home.
Devlin called home to say she would be late, which was a rule these days for everyone in the city. In fact, she and the local police force had set it up when she first arrived before taking this government job. Trask watched her make the call, and she cast him a quick smile, putting him off balance. He nodded and headed out of the room.
No more than a minute later, she saw someone accessing her work computer, no doubt making certain Devlin didn't send any other messages out. Devlin traced the link to Trask's pocketcomp, confirming what she had suspected.
Then Devlin took her time with the filing work, making the fool wait. The halls were empty when she sealed the door behind her, suspecting this would be the last day. Good. Devlin had never liked clerking.
Devlin spotted cleaning bots hard at work but found no people on her way out of the empty building. Workers from this area were quick to leave at night, and most often in groups. The little colony town on Tarkin had never suffered a serial killer before. They were careful -- but not careful enough. Seven women had disappeared. Four men and two more women more had been found murdered.
Trask stepped out of an alcove right at the far end of the passage leading to the transport station. The sound of his steps echoed oddly with hers, and she did look up with a start.
"Devlin." Trask smiled behind the beard that the man must have thought made him handsome. Instead, it made his mouth tiny while a few too many pastries made his eyes piggish behind rolls of fat. "What a joy to get you alone at last."
He put a hand on her arm, the palm sweaty. His eyes gleamed in the dull light.
"Take your hand off of me, or I'll break it," Devlin warned.
He didn't.
She did.
Trask leapt backward with a cry of pain that quickly changed to unreasoning rage. He held his injured hand against his chest, and with the other hand, he pulled a knife from his pocket -- one with a unique serrated edge. The local police had been looking for that blade for months.
"I was going to keep you with some of the others," he said, as though doing her a favor. "But now you'll die."
"I don't think so."
She took the knife away. By then, the local force -- who had rushed to take positions when she had called home -- had heard enough. They came in through the exit door a few feet away, grabbing Trask and taking him away so quickly that he hardly had time to protest.
Patera, head of the local policing force, took the knife from Devlin, putting it into a sealed case, and that went into her pocket.
"He'll tell us where the others are once the medtechs get the drug in him. Thank Epona for loaning you to us," Patera said. She didn't smile, though Devlin saw a look of gratitude on her face. "We knew the murders and disappearances were linked with the Government since over half of the people dead or missing worked in this building and the rest close by. We couldn't put in one of our own people without alerting the killer since we suspected his government connections. I wanted someone who could take care of herself if she did draw his attention, and I figured Inner Worlds Council Security could provide just what I needed. Nice moves, by the way."
"I did warn him about that hand," Devlin said. "People should take me seriously."
That did, finally, get a laugh from Patera. Devlin went to their offices and made out reports -- but at least she didn't have to file them.
By the time Devlin boarded the ship back to Mars and the Inner Worlds Council Headquarters, Patera had found five women still alive, and the colony had declared a holiday. Patera had asked Devlin to stay and celebrate.
"That's not part of what I do," Devlin said and tried not to show how nervous the idea of being on show made her. Even now, they met in a quiet room at the port, out of notice. "I couldn't do my work if I turned up too often in reports."
"I like to think we would have caught him," Patera admitted. "But --"
"But I was just a short cut. You placed me in a position to draw the killer out. I played along with him, just enough to get his attention. It worked -- and not because of me. You would have found someone."
"But you broke his hand." Patera grinned this time. "Good work, Devlin."
"Thank you."
It was enough.....
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