Chapter 104: ED : Chapter 102: Pricking of My Thumbs III
"There weren't any unusual occurrences after the curfew went into effect? It doesn't have to be anything that seems connected to the disappearances. Just something you'd consider out of the ordinary, if this had been a more normal month in the city," I pressed in response.
I didn't know what exactly I was looking for, but in my mind, I'd managed to establish a tenuous grip on the shape of Ravara's activities here. Now, my intuition was urging me to dig deeper.
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I felt a stab of disappointment as the grizzled cop started to shake his head, but then his dark brows furrowed in concentration. A moment went by, and then another, before he finally replied.
"I remember hearing a couple of the least-senior constables complaining about one of last night's calls in the locker room this morning.
I walked in on the back end of the conversation, but the gist of it seemed to be their dissatisfaction with having to remain at a scene for the district coroner last night, even after foul play was ruled out.
Normally, R.W.P.R.S; that's the Royal Wildlife Protection and Regulation Service, would be the ones to take over a scene where someone was injured or killed by an animal, so it would be their job to assist the coroner with the remains and secure the scene in the meantime, but what with more than two-thirds of the W.P.R.S field-agents being Gungan, it's fallen on the Constabulary to pick up the slack."
Feeling my interest continue to sharpen as the man continued with his explanation, I found myself rapidly lobbing questions his way the moment he'd finished speaking, "Who was the victim, where did this happen, and what was it that convinced the constabulary it was an animal attack?"
I couldn't have explained why I was so certain, but I was suddenly positive that there was a connection between the incident the constable had just described, and whatever was going on here. Unfortunately, that was the extent of my intuitive flash. There was no indication of what that connection was, or how I might go about acquiring that knowledge.
Caught off-guard by my sudden intensity, Constable Kiherri nevertheless recovered almost instantly. He had his datapad in hand before a couple more seconds passed, and in less than a minute's time, an answer for me.
"Let's see, the victim's name was Rolfe Ankar, age thirty-seven. Originally from Eriadu, he's been under investigation for some time, due to our suspicion that he's a prominent figure in the network of smugglers based somewhere in this swamp. Rolfe was the owner and proprietor of the Foggy Bog, a rather seedy bar and club that butts right up against the Sonic Deterrence Field marking the outermost edge of Moenia, and separating city from swamp.
The victim maintained a residence on the Foggy Bog's upper floor via a commercial exemption to the city ordinance forbidding residences within twelve hundred meters of the S.D.F boundary, and he was found less than twenty-five meters from the stairway running up the eastern outer wall of the building to his apartment.
The coroner's initial C.O.D was shock-induced heart failure, brought on by exsanguination via laceration of the gastric artery," The constable reported, reading from his datapad.
Looking up at me with a small frown, the short yet wiry cop offered a slight shrug, then concluded, "It looks like the smuggler was set upon by a rogue Narglatch that braved the S.D.F. There were shallow lacerations to the top of the right pectoral and the outside of the forearm on the same side.
Injuries consistent with wounds caused by a blow from a forepaw, as the victim was falling back and away from the beast, with much deeper wounds to the gut. The kind of injury you'd expect to see once the cat was atop him and setting to work with its rear paws to eviscerate prey. Ankar had a permit-of-necessity for an RSKF-44 Heavy Blaster, which was found at the scene beside the body.
The weapon's six-shot power cell had four two-bolt shots worth of charge remaining, so the conclusion was something tipped Ankar off to the predator's presence just before it pounced, he turned and flung up his off-arm to protect his throat, then went for his weapon.
Fired at the oncoming animal from point-blank range, an RSKF-44 packs enough of a punch to do an enormous amount of damage, but the minimal kinetic transfer on the part of the bolts wouldn't do anything to stop the Narglatch's forward progress. Ankar's first shot connects, maybe his second does as well, but he goes down under the beast as it slams into him, then gets gutted as soon as the beast settles atop him.
Finally realizing it's been hurt too badly to carry off a one hundred and forty kilo man, the Narglatch limps back into the swamp to lick its wounds and maybe die. Ankar, meanwhile, goes into shock and bleeds out at the scene. Not my idea of a good way to go, but I'm not seeing how this incident connects to, well, anything."
Closing my eyes, I slowed my breathing, shut out all sensory stimuli that might distract me, and considered what the constable just said. Abruptly, my thoughts were jerked back to my memory of the vision that came to me right before we arrived. It now seemed rather obvious that either Crissayel or his sister had been the first of the fading lights I'd Seen trapped in that wireframe prison of light, so the second trapped and fading light must be drawing near.
"That's my best guess, anyways," I couldn't help thinking, as I tried and failed to come up with an answer to the constable's implied question.
Thinking of barriers and traps, I found myself asking as my eyes opened, "Other than the injuries themselves, was there any direct evidence of a narglatch's involvement? Any hair on the victim's clothes, DNA in the wounds, or blood on the ground? An RSKF-44 should have burnt a hole the size of a Wookie's joined fists into anything organic at point-blank range, so even if we're only talking about a clump of charred hair or a bit of blood spatter, there should have been something."
The cop's lined and deeply tanned features took on a troubled cast at this observation, but other than returning his attention to whatever was presently displayed on his datapad, he didn't offer any reaction or response to my questions or comment, so I decided to press the point.
Before I got the chance, however, the captain of the repulsor-lift boat, a Sullustan named Runn Vel suddenly broke his journey-long silence to announce, "Five minutes to the southeasternmost edge of Lake Paonga. All of you need to be off my craft within one minute of arrival, as we agreed."
Watching Padme slip past me with a brief smile to handle the exceptionally nervous captain, I decided to just come out and tell the constable what I was thinking.
"To answer your question about why Ravara targeted people that would be missed immediately, Constable, I think she, or more accurately, whoever it was that sent her here, wanted to cause a public scare.
Scared people tend to alternate between keeping their heads down while minding their own business, and demanding the authorities put a stop to whatever's scaring them. Those are both behaviors that keep people's attention focused on the cause of their fear, and what they can do to avoid said cause.
I can't tell you why Ravara's CIS backers went to such lengths to focus the collective attention of the citizenry on the depredations of a mysterious killer, but I'm almost certain that Rolfe Ankar's death ties into all of this, somehow.
I'd consider it a personal favor, though, if you were to go over everything from the last time the man was seen alive. to ensuring the limits of forensic examination were brought to bear on his remains. If the coroner decided early on that it was an animal attack, I'd wager the usual budget-minded, cost-cutting measures leaped into action from that point onward."
Grimacing as he absorbed my request, the cop's lined features seemed even older as he spread his hands helplessly and replied, "I'm willing to take your word for it, Knight Skywalker, and I can probably call in a couple favors to get a Foreign Body Scan done on Ankar's remains, but I'd need the Lieutenant-Constable's authorization to push the Chief Coroner into treating the remains like they're a victim of the Shadow. Ahh, that's what the local Holo-Net's been killing the perpetrator of the abductions.
Moenia isn't Theed, and we definitely don't have the kind of budget their Constabulary has. I'm reminded of how over budget we are every time the Lieutenant-Constable sits in on the bi-weekly meeting of the senior Watch-leaders as it is. I'm sorry, but as far as your word goes on Naboo, it won't go as far as 'spurious scans draining an already overtaxed budget' with the Ell-Cee."
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