Eros at Zenith: Book 2 of Tales of the Velvet Comet Read Free Page B

him?” he asked her.
    “Because you're probably going to have to spend some time in his company, and I felt you should be forewarned. After all, that's what friends are for—and you and I are going to be friends, Mr. Crane.”
    “Are we?”
    She nodded firmly. “Absolutely—unless you can think of some reason why we should be enemies.”
    “None.”
    “Then it's settled.” She looked across at him, studying his face. “You know,” she remarked after a moment, “you might be an attractive man if you would just smile occasionally.”
    “I'm not in a funny business,” he said.
    “Neither am I, when you get right down to it,” she replied. “Yet I smile all the time.”
    “I'll smile when I catch the murderer.”
    “Just how difficult do you expect that to be?” she asked seriously.
    “Well,” he said, “we've got a closed environment here, and a reasonably thorough security system. I'll check out the body and the area where the murder occurred, begin comparing alibis against the record, have the computer put together a history of the victim, and with a little hard work and a little luck I ought to be able to clear this thing up before too long.”
    He was right about the methodology, but wrong about the result.

Chapter 2

    Crane found his way back to the foyer with no difficulty, then took the escalator down to the tramway entrance. A small titanium gate barred his way, and he waited for the computer to check his retinagram.
    “I'm sorry, sir,” said a voice. “But the tramway is for use by Comet personnel only.”
    “Who is this?” demanded Crane.
    “Security guard Enoch Lyman, sir,” was the response.
    “I assume you're not in my immediate vicinity?”
    “That is correct.”
    “My name is Andrew Jackson Crane, I work for the Vainmill Syndicate, and I'm here on official business. You can check me out with either Paxton Oglevie or the Black Pearl.”
    “One moment, please.” There was a brief period of silence. “Mr. Oglevie has confirmed your identity, Mr. Crane. If you will step up to the computer once again, I will program it to recognize and respond to your retinagram.”
    Crane did as he was told, standing in front of the computer's scanning lens.
    “All right, sir,” said Lyman's voice. “You will have access to the tramway and the Home for the duration of your stay here.”
    The gate slid back, and Crane stepped through to a small platform, where he boarded the enclosed tramcar. He commanded it to start, felt a slight pressure due to the rapid acceleration, and got off when it stopped at the airlock some 80 seconds later.
    He took an escalator to the main level, found that it bypassed the airlock and let him off inside the Mall, and was shortly riding a slidewalk to the hospital.
    There was a rather small woman waiting for him outside the hospital door. She wore an austerely-tailored burgundy gown, sleeveless and high-collared, on which a dragon had been embroidered in metallic gold thread. It spiralled around her body, and the head seemed to insinuate its way over her left shoulder and come to rest across her breasts, glaring at the world with jeweled eyes.
    The woman herself had very short black hair that was touched with gray. She had managed to accumulate a few excess pounds over the years, but Crane could tell at a glance that she had once been quite beautiful. There was a hint of the Oriental about her face, though each of her features seemed Caucasian.
    Except for a small platinum-and-ruby ring she wore no jewelry of any kind, and kept her make-up to a minimum.
    “You're the Dragon Lady?” Crane asked.
    “And you must be Mr. Crane.”
    “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
    “Now, that's a cordial greeting,” she replied dryly.
    “It's better than the one you gave me,” said Crane.
    “Where were you?”
    “Busy.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Tightening the security in the Resort. We can assume that none of the patrons are in any danger, but we can't know