The Serpent of Mumbai, Part 4

Posted by Lee Montana

It took me a while to realise that I was awake. My dreams had seemed so real that when I came to I was so confused I couple not remember who I was, let alone that I had been out cold. I found that I was in a small tent, maybe designed for hiking expeditions. I could not remember what I was doing there, but I could not remember where I had gone to sleep. My head was pounding. For a moment I thought I must have been on a drunken binge the night before, but I could not shake the feeling that a man was dead and I had to do something about it.

I unzipped the tent door and put my head out. I was in a clearing in a forest. There were no other tents and no other people in sight. It was morning and there was birdsong, and also the distant sound of the ocean.

I searched my pockets, but found them empty. The tent was also empty, apart from the gear I had been sleeping in.

It came back, or at least some of it did. Professor Rhegin, the impossible text message, the burly man at the academic conference in Mumbai. I had done as Verity asked and snuck into the meeting. It had been a lecture about Indian Historiography. However, neither the Professor or his wife were present. As I was scanning the auditorium, I noticed that a young woman was watching me. I realised that she was the woman in the red sari, the one who had been pictured with the professor the night before. I smiled at her and sat down.
"Looking for someone?" she said, with a cut-glass English accent which took me somewhat by surprise.
"I was looking for Professor Rhegin," I replied. "I was supposed to meet up with him. Sorry," I added, "I'm Lee."
"Juanita," she said, shaking my hand. "So you're looking for Thomas? Well, it was a long night for him, and he's not as young as he was. I expect he's in his room. He and his wife are next door to me. Room 102."
"Thanks," I said, and left as discreetly as I could. When I found the room, I was not surprised to discover that there was no response to any knocks.
"Here, allow me," said Juanita from behind me. She leaned past me and unlocked the door.
"This is your room," I stated.
"Yes, it is," she said as she slid past me.

That was all I could remember. Leaving the tent, I looked around at my surroundings. The trees were tropical, I thought. They were sparse enough that I could see, a few hundred yards away, a beach. The sun glinted through the canopy, and the day was already getting hot. Near the tent was the remains of a campfire, but it was cool to the touch. Nowhere else was there any sign of life, or indeed, human activity of any kind.

I decided to wall along the coast until I found some civilisation. The sand was firm underfoot, and walking was easy despite the unsuitable nature of my plimsolls. In the middle distance, I could see several islets of different sizes, covered in trees. My heart began to sink. Sure enough, it only took about half an hour for me to arrive back where I started.

Marooned, then. I found myself strolling back to the tent, wondering how I had been so foolish. For the first time, I noticed a strongbox on the far side of the tent. It was unlocked, and contained a dozen litres of water, and thirty six foil-wrapped packs of freeze-dried rations. So, my captors had left me food, water and shelter. They wanted me alive.

After I had eaten one of the reason packs, I decided to explore the interior of the island. Before long, the trees became thicker, and the undergrowth became almost impenetrable. Nevertheless, I persevered and managed to find a tall outcropping of rock near what I judged to be the middle of the island. It took me at least an hour to climb to the summit, by which time the heat was getting very intense. The view was spectacular. I was at the centre of a vast archipelago of islets of golden sand covered in intense green foliage, set in a perfect blue ocean that seemed to go on forever. There was absolutely no mainland in sight. It was a beautiful prison, but a prison it was. And there did not seem to be any escape.

Just as I prepared to scale back down the outcropping and head back to the camp, I noticed a thin column of smoke coming from one of the nearby islets. As I watched it rise, I thought I could hear the distant sound of voices.

My heart leapt in my chest. I was not alone.

The Serpent of Mumbai, Part 3

Posted by Verity Starchaser

The Viceroy hotel did not, as it turned out, live up to its name. It had been, in years past, a fine establishment, if a little eccentric. But now, a pall of dread hung over the poorly lit, fusty smelling, dust coated lobby hall, and the once charming curios (tapestries of 20th century Bollywood film posters, a porcelain figurine of a King Cobra wearing a fez, an imitation of Da Vinci's The Last Supper with a pantheon of Hindu deities) seemed almost sinister now, draped in cobwebs. As I walked in, I could hear the telltale rustle of rats in the walls.

"Lee?" I called. There was no response. I went up to the reception desk and rang the bell. Somewhere, there was the sound of birds taking flight. The bell echoed around the empty corridors for a long moment.
"Ms Starchaser?"
I was expecting someone, but the voice took me by surprise. It was calm, deep and melodious. I turned around to see a balding man in a velvet smoking jacket.
"You have the advantage of me, Mr...?"
"All in good time, my dear. I read your opinion piece in the New Houston Gazette last week. Very good! I find it so tedious when journalists try to present a balanced view of the facts."
"I'm glad it made you think. Listen, I don't mean to sound rude, but I was expecting to meet my friend, Lee, here. I don't suppose you've seen him around?"
The man chuckled. "Mr Montana will not, I'm afraid, be joining us."
"Shame. In that case, I had better go. I'm late for my interview with Professor Rhegin."
"Don't trifle with me, Ms Starchaser. I am well aware that you were working with the late professor. And do not suppose that you will leave this building without telling me where the Serpent is."
I smiled, although my heart was racing. "What makes you think I know anything about that?"
"Rhegin would hardly have contacted you for help if you were not a part of his little conspiracy. I will have the Serpent of Mumbai, and if you will not talk, then I'm sure your friend will. With the proper inducement, of course."
My jaw clenched. "This has been an enlightening talk, but I think it is time I was going."
The man slowly drew a wicked, curved dagger from inside his jacket. "Do not move, my dear," he drawled with a sadistic smile. "This is a sicarius. It is razor sharp. It can leave a very nasty laceration."
The silence was broken by the sound of a pistol cocking. "This is a Colt .44 Dragoon Pattern revolver," said Captain Sabrina Drake, "and it is loaded with manstopper cartridges. The exit wounds can be awful. I trust you are willing to take my word for it?"

She and I exchanged a brief, triumphant smile. I had called her as soon as I got the note from Jane, and we had worked out the plan for her to enter the hotel a few minutes after me, just in case of an ambush. I smiled at the man in the smoking jacket.
"Now," I said, "I think its time you did some talking. I want very much to know three things. Where is my friend, what is your name, and what do you know about the Serpent of Mumbai?"

A snarl passed over the man's features. With a speed that made me gasp, he span around and threw something at Sabrina. A dreadful noise made my eardrums burst, and a bright flash made me flinch. When I looked back the man was pushing past Sabrina and making for the exit. Sabrina righted herself, and looked at me, but in the corner of my eye I could see the shadows moving.
"Get down!" I screamed.
The first gunshot came a split second later, thudding into the wall behind me. A second whistled past my ear as I dived over a sofa. A third and a fourth thudded into the upholstery behind me.

Sabrina had also taken cover behind a faux-marble column. Two bullets ricocheted off, sending chunks of plaster and dust flying up. Sabrina returned fire once, twice. I looked around desperately for a way out, but the only avenue of retreat took me straight into the line of fire. Two more gunshots came, and a bullet ripped a hole through the back of the sofa only inches from my head. Sabrina squeezed off three shots in response, but she didn't have time to aim at our foes, who remained in the shadows. Now, she only had one bullet left. I looked over at my long-time comrade. Our eyes met, and I could see she had no more idea how to escape from this one than I did.

Two sets of footsteps approached. I tensed my muscles, ready to leap up as soon as I heard the sound of a gun being reloaded. I was sure that Sabrina would be able to take care of one of them given half a chance to take aim, but I was hardly confident that I could take on one of our assailants unarmed. Although I have certainly been in a street fight or two, I am not a muscular woman and I almost always came off worse. Still, perhaps I could survive long enough for Sabrina to finish her one off, and come to my aid.

The footsteps stopped, and I held my breath. For a split second, there was silence. Then, a third set of footsteps approached. Almost at once there was the sound of a shotgun shell being chambered, followed by a shout of alarm from one of our assailants, the shotgun blast, a second shell being chambered and shot, and the sound of two bodies hitting the floor.

Sabrina and I stared at each other, mystified. I shrugged. Putting up my hands in a gesture of surrender, I stood up and looked at our would-be saviour.
"Verity? What the hell are you doing here?" he said.

The Serpent of Mumbai, Part 2

Posted by Verity Starchaser

"I believe this qualifies as strange," said LYRA, as the Swallow left the Pitcairns in her wake.
"Apart from the fact that I just got a text from a dead man in the middle of nowhere with no phone?" asked Lee. He was scribbling furiously on a notepad. "I can't wait to hear this."
"What gets me is that he had a tattoo on the sole of his foot. Who gets a tattoo on the sole of his foot?" asked Sabrina Drake.
"Someone who has secrets," I murmured. The text message problem was easy enough, although it had me a little worried. But I could not for the life of me figure out where I had seen that tattoo design before. A coiled, yellow snake with green eyes. Was it a tong sign? Surely not. There was no way Thomas Rhegin was part of any gang.
"When everyone has finished their conversations," chirped LYRA. "I believe you may find this interesting."
"Sorry, LYRA," I said into my smartphone, and put it on the control panel of the Swallow where everyone could see. The cutesy, anime-style cat which LYRA had chosen as her avatar popped up on the screen. At least, LYRA was at pains to point out, she might have chosen it. As an A.I., LYRA was never sure that she had a choice about anything. She wasn't even sure that she really existed.
"Professor Rhegin, who you all seem to be certain is dead, has just been tagged on the web."
I raised an eyebrow. "Show me," I said.
The picture of an ornate ballroom appeared non the screen. A beautiful Indian woman in a scarlet sari, and an older man in an expensive tuxedo smiled at the camera, and in the left of the shot was, unmistakably, Thomas Rhegin and his wife, Jane. All four held flutes of Bucks Fizz.
"When was this posted?" I asked.
"Four minutes ago. According to the image data, it was taken in Mumbai, at 23.29 local time last night."
"Not possible. He would have been killed not much more than an hour after that."
"You can't get from here to Mumbai in under three hours, even in a Whisperjet," said Sabrina with certainty.
"Another picture has just been posted. Again, Professor Rhegin is tagged. Apparently there was a reception last night for a new joint department. Professor Rhegin and guest were in attendance."
Lee threw his notepad on the floor. "Oh, this just gets better. Our dead professor, who can text without a phone from a desert island with no signal, is Schrödinger's cat as well?"
"Not to mention in two places on different sides of the globe at the same time," I said. "Pick up your notebook, Lee. You will need to add Indian local time to your timeline. The game is afoot."
There was a pause. "That line does not work for you," said Sabrina.

The sun was at its height when the Swallow touched down in Mumbai. The city was teeming with people and with the sweltering heat it felt like a pressure cooker. We found the conference centre, a Raj era building that might one day have been a rich Brit's town house. Lee and I went in, Sabrina went off to find us somewhere to stay. The conference delegates were, we soon discovered, on their lunch. Most had gone back to their rooms to siesta. A buffet table was laid in the main ballroom, which we immediately recognised from the photos LYRA had found earlier.

A tall Caucasian man with dark hair approached us. He was in his early thirties, held himself confidently, and  somehow conveyed the hint of a well-muscled body underneath his loose-fitting clothes. I smiled at him.
"Good morning," I said, shaking his hand. "Verity Starchaser, New Houston Gazette. I'm doing a piece on Professor Thomas Rhegin and I'm due to meet him, but I'm afraid I'm very late. Have you seen him?" The man's handshake reminded me very much of playing 'mercy' with my brother as a teenager.
"I'm afraid I don't know the gentleman in question," he replied. "The delegates are reconvening in fifteen minutes for the afternoon sessions. I'm afraid you will have to leave then."
There was a coldness in his voice that took me off guard. "Very well," I said evenly, and walked off.
"Lee," I whispered. "Talk to some of the delegates. See if anyone knows anything. In a few minutes, go to the toilet. Make sure Muscles doesn't see you. Wait there until they all come back and see if you can see Rhegin anywhere." As I walked away, I could hear Lee muttering "Muscles" under his breath.

I questioned a few of the delegates myself. All of them confirmed that Professor Rhegin was, indeed, at the soiree the previous evening. One said she thought he had left at about one. None of them had seen the professor that morning. All the while I could sense that Muscles was watching me intently. I looked over at Lee, made eye contact, and nodded slightly. Then I turned, found Muscles glaring at me, flashed him a smile and then winked. As I did, I stepped briskly into an adjoining room.

As I had planned, Muscles followed. "Is this not the way out?" I asked innocently.
"No," said Muscles, and folded his arms.
"Whoops. I'll come back later, when the conference is finished," I said, as I exited the room. "Perhaps I'll see you then?"

I was delighted to see that Lee had taken my cue and was nowhere to be seen. I wasted no time in getting out of the conference centre. I walked across the street, bought myself a cappuccino, and sat down to wait. After about half an hour I was considering going in to find him, when I got a text alert. It was from Lee, and read: "I'm on to something. Meet me at the Viceroy Hotel in an hour. Lee."

When I looked up, I saw Jane Rhegin, the Professor's wife, crossing the street.
"Verity," she began before I could greet her, "I'm told you've been looking for my husband. Have you seen him anywhere? He left our bedroom whilst I was asleep last night and I haven't seen him all morning."
I stared at the middle-aged lady. Her lips were pursed, her posture defensive, her eyes alert. Every muscle was taut. She was a coiled spring. With every fibre in my being, I did not want to tell her - but I found that I could not bring myself to lie to the poor woman.
"Sorry, Jane," I started, but her hand flew to her mouth and she gasped, and the rest of the sentence died in my throat. I looked deeply into my empty coffee cup and wondered how on Earth I was going to ask any further questions. But when I looked up, Jane Rhegin was scribbling something on a paper napkin. When she finished, she pushed it towards me, and her face had become a stoical mask.
"Call me if you hear anything," she said evenly, and rose. Before she turned to leave she actually managed a wan smile.

As she walked away, I looked at the napkin. It said: "Trust no one."

The Serpent of Mumbai, Part 1

Posted by Lee Montana

How my old university professor could have been lying dead on a tiny pacific island, and drinking cheap wine with a hundred academics at a conference in Mumbai, at quarter past eight on January 10th, was the biggest puzzle - or so I thought.

I got the text from him at half past nine that evening. "I'm in the pitcairns. Help pls rhegin" is how it ran. Which explains how Captain Drake, my employer, Verity Starchaser, and myself, found ourselves on a beach on a tiny, deserted strip of land in the Pitcairns, staring at Professor Rhegin's corpse, early the following morning.

He'd been shot just below the ribcage, where a small red stain marked his corderoy shirt. Drake said it was made by a small calibre gun with no stopping power, the disapproval in her voice tinged with sadness. Otherwise he might have been laid out for his funeral, apart from his left shoe, which was a few feet up the beach.

"Poor Thomas," said Verity with a sigh. Then, she frowned. Kneeling down, she put her hand on his foot. "His sock is soaking wet," she said. "How long ago did you get that text, Lee?"
"About five hours ago."
Verity looked at the waves rolling up the beach. "He was already dead by then," she said.
"How does a dead man send a text?" scoffed Drake.
"The real question is, how does anyone send a text from a deserted island?" asked Verity.
I looked at my phone. No signal whatsoever. I saw Drake do the same, and tut.
Verify was now going through the dead man's pockets. "Here is a puzzler for you to solve, Lee," she said with a smile. "How does a dead man send a text message from a desert island, when he has no phone? Should be easy for a man with two PhDs."
"I only have one PhD," I corrected her. "Double major in Social History and Creative Writing."
"And we are very proud of you."
"We need to get off this island," grunted Drake. "We need to inform the police, otherwise we will have a lot of explaining to do."
"I agree," said Verity.
As they were leaving, a sudden thought struck me, and I bent down and pulled off the wet sock.
"Are you mad, Montana?" growled Captain Drake. "You are interfering with a crime scene!"
I stared at the sole of Professor Thomas Rhegin's left foot for a long moment. Well, I thought. That is not what I expected to see.

Dramatis Personae

Verity Starchaser

Verity Starchaser, the thrice Hippolyta Award nominated reporter, writes for the New Houston Chronicle, the Persephone Gazette and Zoenomie Magazine, on a variety of topics, including intergalactic travel, Terran politics, and 24th Century Lifestyle. Her work has been variously described as "bold", "polemical" and "outrageous".

Asked about her approach to Journalism, she has said: "there really is no substitute for putting yourself right in the thick of the action. Writing is all about presence, after all."

'Al' Starchaser

Al is very clear that he is proud of his much better known, and more successful, younger sibling. Although he has admitted on occasion that the name 'Starchaser' has become as much of a burden as it is a benefit. On the one hand, it opens doors. On the other, it makes anonymity that much harder to achieve, which can sometimes be necessary for any amateur treasure-hunter - a label which Al himself regards as horribly pretentious. He prefers to give his profession as 'student'. Al and Verity's father, on the other hand, prefers to describe him as a 'dilettante'.

(Dr) Lee Montana

Lee Montana is Verity's administrator, fixer, web manager, diarist and sometime cameraman. He graduated from Tycho City Community University with a double PhD in Social History and Creative Writing, around the time Verity was at work on her now-infamous expose of the faculty. He started working for her shortly afterward.

Of Lee, Verity says: "he's an absolute star.  He works like a Trojan, bless him. What would I do without him?" Lee also manages Verity's blog, "Chasing Verity".

LYRA

LYRA is an A.I. (she prefers the term 'Synthetic Consciousness') who is currently in residence on Verity's smartphone. She has a predilection for philosophy, and is often unsure as to whether her thoughts are real or merely a simulation. Despite this existential obsession, her calculations have helped Verity out of more than one tight spot.

Captain Sabrina Drake

Sabrina Drake, captain of the Swallow, believes in free trade, democracy, and the right to bear arms. She has been an itinerant space trader for a continuous period of five years, apart from two weeks during which she was stripped of her licence. This followed an incident involving an attempt to impound the Swallow in a New Delhi Spaceport, leading to what the local papers described as a 'fracas'. Fortunately, it emerged that the men she had shot were, in fact, terrorists posing as law enforcement officers and her licence was reinstated. Her association with Verity Starchaser dates from around that time.

Commander Hoshi Hanta, SS, DSO, LOM.

Commander Hanta is the Terran Military Attache to Interpol. During the course of her many investigations into intergalactic organised crime, she has crossed paths with Verity on a number of occasions. Whilst it is safe to say that no love has been lost between the two (a pseudonymous article describing Hanta as "a useful idiot" was never formally attributed to Verity), Hanta has been forced to admit that the "wet, useless pen-pushing liberal" has, on occasion, been useful to her.