The Pearl Crucible - A Dardana Fenek Mystery - SOLENE, THELUMENE, AND ALKIMILA (Part 3)
(Chapter 42 Part Three)
“We shall speak to the prisoner citizen Thelumene Testaferrata first. Miss Testaferrata, what is your role in this?”
She looked around, startled, and quavered, “I may speak?”
“Yes, speak.”
She swallowed, looked at me, and said to the prosecutor, “Sir, I have no role in this at all. This ungrateful thing kneeling by Efan—”
“You will not speak the brother’s name.”
“—by—by—by him was given to me when I was eight, and I have dealt very strictly with her, yet she persists in running away. My father indeed insisted he’d take my choice of a marriage from me if I did not get my private estate under control. The servants have been defiant for many months because that Io there ran away. I—I met Solene on the savano, she was with a hunting party, so was I, we all met … I told her about my troubles, and described my runaway, thinking she might have gone to Aulis and ended up whoring. Io went to Adrumentum first, and then Thyatira the second time, and used men to conceal herself, you see, the little slut. Solene knew her, and suggested I check my blocknumber’s use records,” she glared at me, “and I found the little whore had my blocknumber and had stolen information with it.”
“Did Zenithar offer to help you?”
“She did. She would get Io into my hands to deal with and would get that Barsina of hers back. Io should be hanged, sir! Hanged! Or crucified,” she added malevolently. “As was nearly done and should have been finished—”
“Prisoner will restrain her outbursts. The Io will be dealt with.”
“I am sorry, sir.” She looked more confident. “So that’s all.”
“All?” the cloth-of-gold man said. “How was this plan arranged?”
“Well,” Thelumene said. Solene looked at her sideways as Thelumene struggled. “I—I would bring her … something … from Helioshad … ” She trailed off.
“Something? A what?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It was wrapped in oilskin and tied. It—”
“Yes?”
“Small. Like a deck of cards. One of my men picked it up from a contact of hers, I certainly did not see him—”
“Did you have the painting known as, ah, hm, Meisje met de parel at your estate?”
She looked at him, to me, and to Efan. “N-no?” she said.
“You are not asking me a question.”
“It—it—it—no.”
“Young woman, there are militia from Helioshad commissariat interviewing your male servants right now, and they can testify and be believed, unlike your two girls here—but the girls can be questioned until they are quite unstrung and they will tell us what was there also. Are you so trusting of your servants’ tongues?”
I have had few entirely satisfactory moments with citizens in my life. Three of them had been in the past week with Efan, and one was right then in that cave. Thelumene looked here and there, and her lips shook, and she looked at me, and for once it was she who was filled with terror, not I.
I didn’t want to die, but if I did, I saw her broken first.
Her face crumpled, and tears ran down. Solene looked at her as though my Miss was the least kitchen skivvy. Alkimila was wide-eyed, but stopped staring at her when the prosecutor said from behind his mask, “Alkimila Fortunato.”
She jumped. “Sir.”
“You used a destructive device to break into the State Gallery.”
“I did not!”
“Your blood was found. You were seen to have an injury on your ankle by an officer of militia and by this girl known as Io—and by male servants at Miss Testaferrata’s estate. I am sure a medical examination will show a recently healed wound on your foot. The painting was found in Helioshad. The painting has been examined and found to have your fingerprints on it and Miss Testaferrata’s. Therefore the likely construction is that you killed your father and stole the key and the file on the painting that detailed statistical analysis about the girl Meisje’s face and genetic indicators for creation of same, proprietary data Miss Scyros and her team at the State Labor Facility in Helioshad have used to create human copies of the painting. You are suspected of attempting to poison him, and of trying to drive his ground-car into a wall by means of corrupted processing-core scripts.”
“I did no such thing!” she cried. “I have no idea what happened to his car! And where would I get a sonic?”
“Who said anything,” Efan said, “about a sonic?”
She froze. I could not help a slow smile creeping into my face, but not a person was looking at me, worthless worm on the floor that I was.
“Thank you, Brother Leono Sesa,” Deniz as the Patro said. “Excellent point. Miss Fortunato, explain yourself.”
Alkimila’s pale skin became entirely like snow, and Solene studied her as though she was a specimen on a slide. The Scyros women kept their faces cool and identical, but there was a definite glint in the younger one’s eyes. Orestia’s lips parted, and Herme, sensing her excitement, laid a hand on her.
“I don’t know what you are talking about!” she cried.
“Your girls can be questioned and will reveal that the girl kneeling there provided a package to you, and other things as well, as we may find.”
She reddened and her fingers flexed, spasmed. “He was a monster,” she shrieked finally. “All of you knew it! None of you did anything! And I did! And I am a criminal?
“And she,” she said, turning towards Miss Solene and pointing with her hands, “she arranged this! She obtained the sonic! Thelumene brought it to her, and this girl brought it to me! It is all your doing, you whore-peddling bitch!”
“You admit killing your father,” Deniz said.
“Yes,” she spat. “Yes, I did. I am guilty, and she is guilty, and she is guilty—but Solene here didn’t help because he was a filthy rapist, but because her panderess daughter was stupid enough to get herself crimped by whore Herme’s whore offspring. It was spite, revenge—and at least I did it for a reason, you—you arse-sticks!”
The men in the subterranean temple murmured. Deniz raised a hand. “Silence. Young woman, you will cease speaking.”
She made a choking noise.
“Solene Zenithar.”
“Yes?” she said, smiling at him.
“What have you to say?”
“I have nothing to say,” she told him pleasantly, lowering her eyes respectfully. “I do not know these women. I know nothing of this painting. I, at least, have never heard of a—a what, sir? A sonic?—whatever that is. And if I peddle whores—Miss Fortunato, is it?—it is an honest trade, which has been quite advantageous to me. Quite.”
“Brother Heliokuristo Tria, your opinion?”
“Patro, Miss Zenithar is free to go when our business is concluded.”
She curtseyed to him. Patro gestured,and Efan stepped forward to cut her hands free.
Alkimila sputtered. Miss Thelumene, to my delight, looked about to faint.
“The penalty for patricide is death by crucifixion,” Deniz said. “Brother Heliokuristo Tria?”
“It is appropriate,” he agreed. “But it cannot be public because of the scandal it would cause in this case, and avoiding scandal is why we’re here.” Alkimila began to make a wailing noise. “Silence her.”
Efan produced a cloth and gagged her with an interesting efficiency.
“Miss Scyros, is justice satisfied?”
“I have substantial research costs,” she replied, “which would have been lost if this scheme had fared better. I request a punitive assessment. The servants who were to be executed—I wish their contracts. And—Miss Fortunato’s contract and those of her maidservants as well, and perhaps Miss Thelumene’s as well, if you judge her punishable.”
Miss Thelumene fainted dead away now, or at least she collapsed, and Alkimila, whom Efan held by the arm, began struggling and making piping and hunhing noises into her gag.
“Sir,” Efan spoke up, tightening his grip on her, “the Testaferratas are a good Helioshad family, and it appears Miss Testaferrata was lured into this in hopes of recovering her property. It’s evident she did not commit the murder. I suggest she surrender her maidservants to Miss Scyros as a penalty and be sent home to her father.”
The Patro grunted. “So be it. Minimize the mess, anyway. Miss Scyros, the Fortunato girl is indentured over to you and all of her and her family’s girls in Aulis, and this Helioshadi woman’s two girls.”
“And what of the Barsina?” Solene spoke up languidly. “The Barsina is mine.”
“Silence. Whose girl is the Io?” the Patro asked.
“She belongs to one of the brothers,” Efan, Brother Leono Sesa, said. “By purchase.”
“And the Barsina?”
“He confined the Barsina in his residence in the past week. She has been out of the hands of Miss Solene for over a year and a day and is his by simple possession. He wishes the Barsina’s contract be confirmed to him. The Io is intelligent and useful, but much of her usefulness is in association with the Barsina.”
Solene looked surprised and then bitterly amused, but the master of the syndex promptly agreed. “So be it,” said Deniz’s voice. “No need to reward Miss Zenithar and no need to punish her. Brother Leono Sesa, give the Barsina to the brother in question and give the girl Alkimila to Miss Scyros.”
Efan forced the struggling girl to her knees. “Miss Scyros,” he said.
“Miss Scyros, she seems very unwilling,” Deniz said, dubious. “Do you think you can make anything of her?”
Herme Scyros smiled. “What do you think, Orestia dear? Would you like the opportunity?”
“Mother,” she said, taking Alkimila’s hair in her hand and giving it a hard yank, “I will break her.”
Alkimila wailed into her gag.
( … This way to Chapter Forty-two part 2 … ) ( … This way to Chapter Forty-three part 1 … )
… ( … This way to Chapter One part 1 … ) …
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