«Thank you, Father. I'll do my best.»

• • •

There appeared to be a fair amount of honest toil going on in the incident room when Rolf and I walked in. Most of the CID staff were at their desks; a chimp was walking round carrying a tray of drinks. I claimed a large spongesteel desk at the front of the room, and slung my dress uniform jacket over the chair. «OK, what progress have we made?»

Shannon was already walking towards me, a PNC wafer in her hand, and a cheerful expression on her face. «I retrieved a copy of Maowkavitz's will from the court computer.» She dropped the wafer on the desk in front of me, its display surface was covered with close-packed lines of orange script.

«Give me the highlights,» I said. «Any possible suspects? A motive?»

«The whole thing is a highlight, boss. It's a very simple will; Maowkavitz's entire estate, including Pacific Nugene, gets turned into a trust. Initial estimates put the total value at around eight hundred million wattdollars. She left no guidelines on how it was to be used. Monies are to be distributed in whatever way the trustees see fit, providing it is a majority decision. That's it.»

Rolf and I exchanged a nonplussed glance. «Is that legal?» I asked. «I mean, can't the relatives challenge it?»

«Not really. I consulted the Eden attorney's office. The will's very simplicity makes it virtually unchallengeable. Maowkavitz recorded a video testimony with a full polygraph track to back it up; and the witnesses are real heavyweights, including—would you believe—the ex-Vice-President of America, and the current Chairwoman of the UN Bank. And Maowkavitz's only relatives are some very distant cousins, none of whom she's ever had any contact with.»

«Who are the trustees?»

Shannon's fingernail tapped the wafer. «There are three. Pieter Zernov, Antony Harwood, and Bob Parkinson. Maowkavitz also lists another eight people should any of her initial choices die.»

I studied the list of names. «I know all of these.» I pushed the wafer over to Rolf who scanned it quickly, and gave me a reluctant nod.

«Boston's leadership,» I mused.

Shannon's grin was pure wickedness. «Prove it. There's no such thing as Boston. It isn't entered in any databank; there are no records, no listings of any kind. Technically, it doesn't exist. Even Eden's surveillance can only turn up bar talk.»

I toyed with the wafer on my desk. «What do they want the money for? Harwood and Parkinson are both rich in their own right. In fact I think Harwood is actually richer than Maowkavitz.»

«They're going to buy guns,» Shannon said. «Arm the peasants so they can storm the Winter Palace.»

I gave her a censorious stare. «This is a murder inquiry, Shannon. Contribute, or keep silent, please.»

She gave an unrepentant shrug. «The modern equivalent of guns. However they figure on bringing off their coup, it won't be cheap.»

«Good point. OK, I want to speak to these three trustees. We won't bring them in for questioning, not yet. But I do want to interview them today, ask them what they're planning on doing with the money. Rolf, set it up, please.» I fished my own PNC wafer from my jacket pocket, and summoned up a file I'd made the previous evening. «And Shannon, I want you to access the wills of everyone on this list, please. I'd like to see if they've made similar arrangements to hand over their wealth after they die.»