The yo-yo is a charmingly primitive toy consisting of a pair of disks connected by a short stem, with a long string tied to the stem at a calculated degree of tension and looped at the other end to provide a grip. Skilled practitioners can make the thing dance the most amazing routines.
Miles takes the lead on this conversation so effectively, he feels almost as though he has attached a string to the good ghem-colonel's waist and is causing him to spin rapidly and hop up and down a few inches above the floor.
Has the investigation yet ruled that the death was a suicide? Benin indicates that they have - but his tone and expression indicate otherwise. Well, have they done tests to rule out the possibility that the ba was stunned elsewhere and then its throat slit on the spot by some unknown assailant? They have not. Can they? No, because the ba has already been cremated. Surely not at the investigator's behest? No, indeed, and why is Lord Vorkosigan so morbidly fascinated with this subject?
He admits to having solved murders before, without mentioning that the murder in question was singular, not plural. Do they get a lot of this sort of thing around here? No, they do not. Aha. He presses the cremation line: awfully premature, wasn't it? Benin assures him firmly that even the ceremonial guards would have noticed if Ba Lura had been hauled bodily into the funeral rotunda, dead, unconscious, or in any other state. Miles forges onward with his theories.
The body was only discovered when the procession actually entered the rotunda and found it there, and by the size of that pool of blood, it had to have been at least a solid quarter hour. Obviously, then, that exact spot must have been occluded to visual surveillance. Who would have known about this convenient gap? Someone a little higher up, perhaps - or a lot higher?
This provides Benin an opening with which to remind Miles that the questions here are supposed to be flowing the other way. Miles jerks the figurative string another time or two, then deigns to describe his original meeting with the haut Linyabel Miriat. To be specific, he describes the haut-lady as having taken him aside for a chat and asked him several polite but mystifyingly vague questions, which he is embarrassed to suspect might have been aimed at seeking a genetic explanation for his visible peculiarities. A genetic explanation which does not exist - he is always very clear on that point whenever it comes up.
From there he segues back into his helpful theorizing: haut-bubbles are so interesting, aren't they? How individually identifiable are they, and how easily borrowed? Could someone perhaps have stunned the ba, taken him into such a bubble, floated him into the rotunda therein, and arranged him in the blind spot before floating away again? Benin seems intrigued by this reasoning; he divulges that six haut-women crossed the chamber during the critical window. He has interviewed them all, along with the miscellaneous other personnel who did the same; none of these people admit to having seen the body. Surely the last one is lying, then? Benin attests that it is not that simple; Miles supposes that some of them might have passed by without noticing, if they kept to the other side of the chamber. Hm.
He drops a few words about the hazards of internal investigations and Benin's low rank - expendably low, you might say. Benin professes that these things are his problem. Miles is beginning to like the man. He helpfully lays out a line of subtly governorward reasoning: whoever arranged this murder must be high-ranking, with extensive access to internal security - if the ba has led an unexceptional life, perhaps the events leading to its death are very recent, concerning an individual who may perhaps have only been here a short time - if the ba left the Celestial Garden in the days leading up to its murder, perhaps it communicated with the murderer - the whole thing reeks of a rush job, desperation, panic, things that tend to follow from dramatic events taking place over a short period of time.
In closing, he offers to assist Benin with any further questions he may have and deftly deflects the suggestion that he answer them under fast-penta. Benin doesn't pursue the point; he didn't seem all that hopeful about it in the first place. It can't be very often that you get to administer interrogation drugs to foreign diplomats.
Miles is full of further questions for Benin, but he fears that if he keeps swinging this string around it will snap and the toy on the end will fly away. He only adds one more thing: a suggestion to the ghem-colonel that, given the delicate nature of his investigation and the high probability of the murderer being located in an upward direction along social and political ladders, he should travel all the way to the top as soon as possible, and make direct contact with his Emperor to request that his investigation be afforded protection from potential interference. Benin seems slightly alarmed by the suggestion, but allows that he will consider it.
Whew. Off he goes. Miles exerts considerable self-control to prevent himself from flopping to the ground and taking a much-needed nap in the middle of the hallway.
no subject
Miles takes the lead on this conversation so effectively, he feels almost as though he has attached a string to the good ghem-colonel's waist and is causing him to spin rapidly and hop up and down a few inches above the floor.
Has the investigation yet ruled that the death was a suicide? Benin indicates that they have - but his tone and expression indicate otherwise. Well, have they done tests to rule out the possibility that the ba was stunned elsewhere and then its throat slit on the spot by some unknown assailant? They have not. Can they? No, because the ba has already been cremated. Surely not at the investigator's behest? No, indeed, and why is Lord Vorkosigan so morbidly fascinated with this subject?
He admits to having solved murders before, without mentioning that the murder in question was singular, not plural. Do they get a lot of this sort of thing around here? No, they do not. Aha. He presses the cremation line: awfully premature, wasn't it? Benin assures him firmly that even the ceremonial guards would have noticed if Ba Lura had been hauled bodily into the funeral rotunda, dead, unconscious, or in any other state. Miles forges onward with his theories.
The body was only discovered when the procession actually entered the rotunda and found it there, and by the size of that pool of blood, it had to have been at least a solid quarter hour. Obviously, then, that exact spot must have been occluded to visual surveillance. Who would have known about this convenient gap? Someone a little higher up, perhaps - or a lot higher?
This provides Benin an opening with which to remind Miles that the questions here are supposed to be flowing the other way. Miles jerks the figurative string another time or two, then deigns to describe his original meeting with the haut Linyabel Miriat. To be specific, he describes the haut-lady as having taken him aside for a chat and asked him several polite but mystifyingly vague questions, which he is embarrassed to suspect might have been aimed at seeking a genetic explanation for his visible peculiarities. A genetic explanation which does not exist - he is always very clear on that point whenever it comes up.
From there he segues back into his helpful theorizing: haut-bubbles are so interesting, aren't they? How individually identifiable are they, and how easily borrowed? Could someone perhaps have stunned the ba, taken him into such a bubble, floated him into the rotunda therein, and arranged him in the blind spot before floating away again? Benin seems intrigued by this reasoning; he divulges that six haut-women crossed the chamber during the critical window. He has interviewed them all, along with the miscellaneous other personnel who did the same; none of these people admit to having seen the body. Surely the last one is lying, then? Benin attests that it is not that simple; Miles supposes that some of them might have passed by without noticing, if they kept to the other side of the chamber. Hm.
He drops a few words about the hazards of internal investigations and Benin's low rank - expendably low, you might say. Benin professes that these things are his problem. Miles is beginning to like the man. He helpfully lays out a line of subtly governorward reasoning: whoever arranged this murder must be high-ranking, with extensive access to internal security - if the ba has led an unexceptional life, perhaps the events leading to its death are very recent, concerning an individual who may perhaps have only been here a short time - if the ba left the Celestial Garden in the days leading up to its murder, perhaps it communicated with the murderer - the whole thing reeks of a rush job, desperation, panic, things that tend to follow from dramatic events taking place over a short period of time.
In closing, he offers to assist Benin with any further questions he may have and deftly deflects the suggestion that he answer them under fast-penta. Benin doesn't pursue the point; he didn't seem all that hopeful about it in the first place. It can't be very often that you get to administer interrogation drugs to foreign diplomats.
Miles is full of further questions for Benin, but he fears that if he keeps swinging this string around it will snap and the toy on the end will fly away. He only adds one more thing: a suggestion to the ghem-colonel that, given the delicate nature of his investigation and the high probability of the murderer being located in an upward direction along social and political ladders, he should travel all the way to the top as soon as possible, and make direct contact with his Emperor to request that his investigation be afforded protection from potential interference. Benin seems slightly alarmed by the suggestion, but allows that he will consider it.
Whew. Off he goes. Miles exerts considerable self-control to prevent himself from flopping to the ground and taking a much-needed nap in the middle of the hallway.