Chapter 26 - A Witness Who Wasn’t Dead

Examiner Marret read Kaito’s statement without interrupting. That made it difficult to watch.

She did not react when she reached the account of the animal at the door. Did not look up at the warning from across the river.

At the final page, she stopped.

“The lamp.”

“He retained the one he used,” I said. “The surrendered item was a spare.”

“Then the equipment count is still wrong.”

“Yes.”

She drew the commercial return closer.

Senn stood beside the desk. Berden waited downstairs under escort. Aoi sat beside me with both hands around a cup she had not touched.

Marret read the lamp inventory again.

“One field lamp. Two station lamps.”

Her finger moved.

“Return: one field lamp. One damaged shutter. Stove. Oil vessels.”

Senn leaned forward.

“Vale called it a field lamp.”

“Was he qualified to distinguish the issue?”

“No.”

“Did anyone inspect the serial?”

Senn went still.

The examiner looked at her.

“Did anyone?”

“No.”

Marret made a note.

Senn’s face had reddened. I knew the sensation. A number copied correctly could still be attached to the wrong thing.

The examiner rang for another clerk.

“Bring the recovered equipment receipt. And the inspection docket, if anyone had the decency to create one.”

The door closed.

Marret turned back to Aoi.

“He refuses to attend here.”

“Yes.”

“That is his right unless summoned under a valid authority.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Aoi’s shoulders eased.

“Will you go to him?”

“I have nineteen open matters, two flood disputes, and a magistrate east of here who has decided that being old entitles him to stop answering letters.”

“So no,” I said.

“So I delegate.”

She opened a drawer.

“I have a sworn examiner’s deputy in Bell Quarry’s district. She can take a statement where he resides.”

Aoi looked up.

“You’ll keep the address out of the ministry copy?”

“Unless it becomes necessary to disclose it. If that changes, he will be notified.”

Not an absolute promise. Aoi accepted it anyway.

She was learning the value of promises someone could actually keep. I wished the lesson came under less unpleasant circumstances.

The recovered lamp had no readable serial. Fire damage had obscured part of the casing. The clerk who accepted it had entered Vale’s description without inspection.

The equipment discrepancy narrowed. The personnel discrepancy did not.

A station assigned to a living man had produced salvaged equipment. Someone had closed the expenditure. Nobody had accounted for the man.

Marret placed the papers in a new folder.

“The ministry return arrived this morning.”

I looked at her. She handed it over.

The response was brief. Kaito’s assignment had ended upon presumed loss of operational capability. Further examination of local salvage returns fell under district authority. Berden was required for clarification of irregular document retention.

No direct order to kill. No admission of abandonment. No explanation of why no one had searched.

A neat document. I disliked it immediately.

“They’ve separated the inquiries,” I said.

“Yes.”

“The station failure is yours. Berden’s possession of the paper is theirs.”

“Yes.”

“And the decision that put Kaito there?”

“Not answered.”

Aoi leaned forward.

“Can you make them answer?”

“I can require the originating order and its amendments.”

“Can they refuse?”

“They can invoke higher authority.”

“And then?”

“Then the refusal becomes part of the record.”

Aoi stared at her.

“That doesn’t keep anyone alive.”

“No,” Marret said. “It does not do that by itself.”

For the first time, anger showed through her composure. Not at Aoi. At the limits she was being required to describe.

She took the response back.

“I cannot promise you that a document wins against a ministry. I can make sure they have to do more than lose a boy’s name between two columns.”

Aoi looked down at her untouched tea. Then nodded.

It was not enough. It was what the room contained.

Berden entered after the examiner sent for him.

He saw Aoi’s face first. Then the lamp box.

He stopped.

“He’s alive,” she said.

Berden sat without being invited.

For a moment, I thought he might fall.

“Where?”

“Somewhere safe.”

He looked at me.

I gave him nothing further.

He nodded slowly.

“That’s good.”

Aoi watched him.

“He doesn’t want you coming there.”

“I understand.”

“He read your statement.”

Berden closed his eyes.

“He said the order was right. What you told us. The food. The signal times.”

“I see.”

“And he said to tell you he left before the lamp went out.”

Berden opened his eyes.

Something in the sentence reached him that did not reach me.

He pressed his hand over his mouth.

Aoi looked away.

Marret waited.

When Berden could speak again, the examiner explained the amended position.

His testimony had been taken. Kaito’s survival removed the presumption that the station’s occupant had died, but did not resolve the circumstances of the deployment.

Berden’s unauthorized copying remained an issue. The original recall had not disappeared.

Aoi’s head came up.

“But–”

“I am not finished.”

Marret turned a page.

“The ministry has declined to provide the underlying authority for closing the station’s personnel entry. Until that is supplied, I cannot determine whether Sergeant Berden retained material as evidence of an offense or simply took restricted documents.”

I sat straighter.

There. Not freedom. A reason the narrower charge could not be decided separately after all.

“I am continuing the stay,” Marret said. “You will remain available in this district. Captain Orra may retain you on duty at Rook’s Watch, subject to production when required.”

Berden stared.

“For how long?”

“Until this office changes the condition. You will not leave the district. You will not destroy or alter any material in your possession. You will not contact officers named in your statement without recording the contact.”

“Yes, Examiner.”

Aoi let out a breath.

It shook.

Marret signed.

Then she looked at me.

“You did not discover a magical sentence that defeats a recall.”

“I had not planned to claim one.”

“Good. You have delayed it because the facts require examination. New facts may change that.”

“I understand.”

She studied me as though deciding whether I understood the sentence or merely liked its immediate effect. Aoi had given me the same look often enough that I recognized it.

We left the office after noon.

Outside, Stonecross was warm and loud. A boy sold roasted nuts near the steps. A barge crew sang badly from the river. Someone had hung a notice advertising a traveling puppet show.

Berden stood in the sunlight with the amended order in his hands. One of his escorts clapped him on the shoulder. The other asked whether they could finally buy dinner.

Life resumed with indecent speed.

Aoi bought a bag of nuts. She handed it to Berden.

He looked confused.

“Eat,” she said.

He did.

I watched the office door.

Senn emerged carrying a cloth bundle.

“Copies,” she said.

I took them.

She looked at Aoi.

“Did he say anything for me?”

Aoi nodded.

“He said he knew you hadn’t told them.”

Senn’s face changed.

“And?”

“That was it.”

For a moment, she seemed disappointed.

Then relieved.

Perhaps both.

She nodded.

“All right.”

Aoi touched her sleeve.

“He kept your blank forms. Used the backs when he ran out of paper.”

Senn laughed once.

“That sounds right.”

She went back inside.

We ate beside the river. No one discussed Corvane until the food was finished.