He was just stepping onto the walkway leading to the house when he remembered he’d left his jacket in his hovercar.
He was always doing that. He knew that he always did that. Numerous times he told himself to remember not to leave his jacket behind. He tried every trick in the book to force himself to remember. Nothing seemed to work, at least not for very long.
That bothered him. Not so much because he loved wearing suit jackets. “Hate” was too strong a word for his sentiment regarding suit jackets. He believed the better word was “uncomfortable.” Not only did they not wear well on his body, but they were a symbol of his job.
His unpleasant but necessary job.
He trudged back to the hovercar, retrieved the jacket in question, and put it on. He marched off the street, up the walkway, and tapped on the door chime.
The door slid open. A woman met him. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties. She was on the tall side of average in height. She had a figure most men would find pleasing. Her face was cool but attractive. She wore a white blouse and a dark blue dress. Overall she looked stylish but not in an excessive way.
“Yes?” she asked in a soft voice.
“Pardon me, but are you Miri Sistrom?”
“I am. Who’s asking?”
He gave her his card. “Pierre Eggar. I’m an investigator for Alliance Insurance.”
“Is this about my husband’s policy?”
“It is.”
“Are you going to deny it?”
Eggar gave her a bland smile. “I just look into these matters. It’s the company that approves or denies claims.”
That wasn’t entirely the truth. As an investigator for an insurance company, his word about claims held a great deal of sway. Not only could he get claims denied, but he could also forward evidence to local authorities. In just about every case where he did forward evidence charges of insurance fraud followed.
He’d learned early on in his job not to admit that. It was always better that the beneficiaries believed he didn’t have much influence. That made them more cooperative. Much of the time that cooperation prevented anyone from getting into any real trouble. While that could lead to a claim being denied, good behavior was rewarded by Eggar choosing to look the other way.
Better to scare the edge cases straight than try to send everyone to prison.
So he told a little lie to Miri Sistrom and gave her an inoffensive smile.
“Very well,” she replied after a minute of waiting. “Come in.”
“Thank you.”
He walked through the doorway and immediately entered the living room of the house. The couch, the chairs, the wall screen, all were in good shape for being probably five or so years old. The floor appeared to be hardwood. The walls were painted a light tan while the ceiling was white. It appeared to be like every other mildly upscale home Eggar had ever been to.
Sistrom directed him to a chair facing the couch. She allowed him to sit first. “What’s this about Mister, Eggar, is it?”
“That’s right. What do you prefer to be called?”
“Miri.”
“Hardly appropriate for a man like me.”
“I don’t like Missus. Too formal.”
“How about Ma’am?”
“Okay, if you want.”
“Thanks, Ma’am.” He brought up the tablet he’d been carrying in his left hand. He tapped it on and brought up the relevant file. “Now, your husband was Rob Sistrom, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“And he was in a hovercar accident, correct?”
“A week ago, yes.”
“It went out of control on a winding road and crashed.”
“Yes.”
“Would it be all right if I could examine the maintenance records of the vehicle?”
She frowned slightly. “Why? It was an accident. He was insured.”
“All true, Ma’am, as far as I can tell. However, hovercar accidents are rare.”
“Rare?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Just about every hovercar on the market, no matter where you buy them, is equipped with a variety of systems to assure the safety of the driver and any occupants.”
“No system is perfect.”
He smiled. “If that were so, there would be no need for hovercar insurance.” He let his smile fade. “Still, these systems don’t fail often. It’s our policy to make certain that this was a failure and not something else.”
“What are you implying?”
He shook his head. “Oh, nothing, Ma’am, nothing at all. Again, the rarity demands an investigation. Why, just a couple of months ago, I had to look into another case. Delivery driver on Daugava.”
“Where?”
Her question caused him to pause for a moment. He thought it odd that she might not know all the members of the Independent Worlds Alliance. The planet she was living on was a member of the Alliance.
The seat of the Alliance was the planet of Kiowa. It was also where his company had its headquarters, and thus where his office was. Vladikov, the planet where she and her late husband lived, was a member of the Alliance, along with the one he’d just mentioned. Several others were also part of the Alliance.
Yet he had to admit to himself that the present wasn’t like the past of several decades ago. Back then the names of each Alliance world were etched into the minds of everyone who lived in the Alliance. They had to be. Their old enemy, the Cassini Empire, threatened to take away members of the Alliance often over the decades. A few times they did so.
It was patriotic to know the names of the Alliance, to remember names and places and dates. It was one of the methods of keeping everyone together.
Common values, common goals, and a common history.
That though was the past. It had been decades since the Empire had been a threat to anyone, much less the Alliance. Peace and prosperity had returned to the galaxy after centuries of fear and devoting resources to defense. The old slogans and appeals didn’t have the clout that they used to have.
Eggar didn’t believe that was a bad thing, but it did bother him from time to time that he had to explain where his stories took place. “Another Alliance member world,” he said to Miri.
“Oh, that’s right.”
“Well, this woman, she claimed that her hovercar was severely damaged in a fire, you see. I looked into the matter and found she’d been skipping regular visits to the repair shop for a couple of years.”
“Is that bad?”
“Every policy we write regarding hovercars states that the owner of the policy will take their vehicle in for regular maintenance. If you skimp on that, you’re bound to have problems.”
“I see. What about this woman?”
“Skimping to save credits. Of course we denied her claim.”
“Of course.”
“We could have also canceled her policy. But her work had been slow the last couple years. I told her she could keep the policy if she got a used vehicle and took it to the shop on a regular basis.”
“You did that for her?”
He shook his head again. “Honestly, I did that for her and for Alliance Insurance. If we deny too many claims not only do we get scrutiny by the Alliance government, but we get a bad reputation and don’t sell as many policies. Better to keep an otherwise decent customer, though having to up the payments and the claim threshold a little, than lose the customer and sour people on the company.”
“I see.”
He was about to clarify more when a voice, a young-sounding voice, called out, “Who’s arrived, Miri?”
“I’m your stepmother,” Sistrom replied in a raised but not loud voice, “and there’s a man here from your father’s insurance company.”
Through an opening leading what Eggar assumed was the kitchen was a young woman. Unlike the widow who had fair hair, this young woman had black hair. Her face was younger, but not quite a teenager’s face. She was thinner than the widow, but had bright blue eyes. She wore a tee shirt and sweatpants.
“This is my stepdaughter, Lara,” the older Sistrom woman said.
Eggar bowed his head. “Pierre Eggar, Alliance insurance.”
Lara sat down at the other end of the couch from her stepmother. “Is there a problem, Mister Eggar?”
“No, just a routine investigation.”
“Routine?”
“The man was explaining that hovercar accidents don’t happen often,” Miri Sistrom said.
“That’s right, Ma’am. Miss Sistrom, is it?”
Lara Sistrom sighed. “It is.”
“I hope I’m not causing either of you trouble right now.”
“You’re not.”
Miri Sistrom shook her head. “Not at all. Maybe I should explain things to you.”
“Maybe you should,” Eggar replied.
“Rob was quite a few years older than I was when we married.”
“More like twenty,” Lara Sistrom said.
“Quiet. Are you aware of Rob’s work?”
“Just the name,” Eggar answered.
“He was the owner of Vladikov Building and Repair. It’s the most successful construction and repair company on this planet. I do interior decor for homes. It’s how Rob and I met. He’s been building a lot of homes. He hired me to help.” She smiled. “We fell in love. That was that.”
“I see.” He turned to the stepdaughter. “Did you have a mother?”
“I did,” the younger woman replied. Her face was somber. “She ran off when I was young. Seven or eight, I think. Dad and I did well on our own.”
“We don’t lose our interest in affection as we age, Lara,” the older woman said.
“Sure.”
“I don’t have anything to say to that,” Eggar commented, trying not to get between the two women, “but I do want to have a question answered about the first wife.”
“What?” Lara Sistrom asked.
“Was there a proper divorce?”
“I think so.”
Miri Sistrom nodded. “There was. Rob and I couldn’t have married if there wasn’t. While poly relationships are acceptable here, in order for me to have a stake in the business, and in this house, there had to be a formal end to the marriage.”
“Those relationships are acceptable everywhere in the Alliance, Ma’am. But having a formal end is helpful to me.”
“How so?”
“Without that, we’d have to contact that first wife and determine if she wanted any part of your husband’s insurance. This would be all the more important since we’d be paying out both a vehicle policy and a life insurance policy.”
“Well, she’s not in either of our lives.”
Eggar turned to Lara Sistrom. “You haven’t had any contact with your birth mother recently, have you?”
The young woman shook her head. “Nothing since she left, to be honest.”
“All right.” He gave the young woman a brief nod. He’d been around long enough to know not to sigh with relief.
No member of the Alliance, indeed no civilized world, put limits on affection and marriage. It just wasn’t done. But legal marriage was a slightly different matter because that involved joint bank accounts, property rights, and inheritance. There was a need within the law for certain people to be able to have the right to access the lives and finances of others.
Marriages couldn’t just be who you were in love with. You needed to obtain a license. If a child wasn’t born into a marriage they had to be legally adopted. If you fell out of love there had to be a formal divorce. A child could sue for emancipation if they didn’t want their parents to be a part of their life.
All this factored into Eggar’s investigation of this accident.
He’d have to clear Lara Sistrom’s statement with the local government. As long as she was telling the truth about her birth mother, there was no need for him to hunt the woman down. A proper divorce severed her ties to Rob Sistrom. That included any claim she might have to the man’s life insurance policy.
That also meant he wouldn’t have to pause his own work to travel to where ever planet the woman had moved to, talk to her about her relationship to Mister Sistrom, and try to wrangle a legal statement renouncing any claims to his property. Doing that was a pain in the ass, and it kept him from being the good guy and approving a claim.
“Mister, Eggar, is it?” Miri asked.
Eggar snapped back to reality. “Uh, yes, Ma’am?”
“Rob’s business only paused when he died. There are people waiting on houses to be built. The company’s working capital will only go so far.”
He nodded to her. “I quite understand, Ma’am.”
“Do you?”
“I do. My job is to look into claims such as yours and report back to my superior on whether or not we should honor the claim. We don’t want to pay out every claim, of course.”
“Fraud, right?” Lara Sistrom asked.
“Well, there is that, certainly, Miss. No one likes to be cheated.”
“You’re not implying anything, are you?” Miri Sistrom asked.
“Oh, no, Ma’am, not at all. Again, this is just a routine inquiry.”
“You said accidents are rare,” Lara Sistrom said to him. “Are they so rare that you always pay out? Or so rare that you never pay out?”
“It depends on the situation, Miss. Just because something is rare doesn’t make every instance suspicious. Indeed, as I was telling your stepmother, if Alliance Insurance took that attitude, we’d hardly ever pay out any claims. That would be very bad for our business. People would think they couldn’t trust us. Pretty soon politicians wouldn’t think they could trust us. We’d be out of jobs and my bosses might end up in jail.
“That being said, rare occurrences demand an investigation. We must make certain the claimant isn’t engaging in insurance fraud. But the particular circumstances of your father’s situation will figure into what I state to my superiors. If I find that business is strong, and not paying the claim will cause hardship to others, that will argue in favor of the decision.”
“That’s very considerate for an insurance company,” Lara Sistrom replied.
He smiled and shook his head. “It’s not considerate, it’s business. New housing means new people in need of home-owner’s insurance. New housing means new residents, which means more customers for the businesses here on Vladikov, including those with policies with Alliance Insurance. The owners of those businesses might want to expand their policies with us.”
“So you’ll see to it that the policy pays?” Miri Sistrom asked.
“Ma’am, I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
“Then what do you promise?”
“I can promise you a thorough investigation into the accident that led to your husband’s death. I can also promise you that it won’t be a long investigation. There’s no sense in dragging out the matter just to avoid paying. If it was well and truly a tragic accident, then I can assure you this matter will be resolved to your satisfaction.”
“Good.”
“Very well.” Eggar tapped his tablet. “I have the circumstances of the accident as reported.” He looked at the screen. “You stated that your husband was missing when you got up the morning of the accident, correct?”
“I did.”
He turned to Lara Sistrom. “You also said you hadn’t seen your father then, yes?”
Lara Sistrom nodded in response. “I’m a college student. I didn’t know what had happened until my stepmother called.”
“Campus housing?”
“Yes. My stepmother asked me to stay here until Dad’s estate is all taken care of.”
“I see. A survey of the accident was made by the local police. I trust you both were able to see the incident report?”
“We did,” Miri Sistrom answered.
“Well, then, I’ll direct my questions to them. Find out what they know. Will you be around if I need to speak to you again?”
“I will.”
“So will I,” Lara Sistrom added swiftly.
“Good. I know where to find the both of you. With luck, my work will be completed in a couple of days.”
“And if all goes well?” Miri Sistrom asked.
“The policies will be paid in full within a week of that.”
She smiled to him. “Thank you very much, then, Mister Eggar.”
He nodded to her, then to her stepdaughter. The widow escorted him out of the house while the stepdaughter went back to whatever she’d been doing before she heard the conversation. Once outside he took off his jacket and got back into his hovercar.
He was certain he’d been reassuring. Mostly that was because he had to be. So far there was nothing suspicious about the accident, except for the fact of the accident itself. Yet he’d noticed the age difference between the husband and the second wife as soon as the claim came in. Seeing the woman in person made it stand out even more.
A voice in the back of his brain warned him that this might not be an open-and-shut case.
I’d better listen to that voice, he told himself.
Age differences between spouses were hardly criminal. As far as the law was concerned, so long as the partners were consenting adults that was it. That was pretty much his attitude. It wasn’t his place to question love.
It was, however, his place to question whether an emotion like greed overcame love. A large life insurance policy could be tempting if there was “like” in the relationship rather than “love.” It could be just as tempting if one wanted to fake being in love to latch onto a significant sum of credits.
So far, though, that was in the realm of speculation. Just because one partner was much younger than the other signified nothing that would allow him to urge his superiors to deny either claim. No lawful insurance company could deny a claim based upon an age gap between the policy owner and the beneficiary.
The accident was a different story.
Hovercar accidents were as rare as he’d told the Sistrom women. Most cities had traffic control systems that made certain vehicular flow didn’t create congestion and thus anger drivers into making mistakes. Just about every vehicle on the road had sensors and safety systems to prevent accidents.
Of course any system that could be built could also be modified. Not everyone that wanted modifications to their vehicle cared about safety or the law.
Nothing he’d heard suggested that Mister Sistrom had modified his hovercar. Unfortunately it didn’t appear on the surface that either his wife or his daughter would have known if he’d done something to it. He presumed they’d have noticed something like that in the accident report.
Which led him back to the accident itself. Since it happened outside the city, there was no reason to look at faulty government systems. He believed that if there had been evidence of that, the wife or the daughter would have spoken up during his visit. They would have directed him to an attorney who was working on their case.
No lawyer, so I presume no case.
That left him with three options for what happened to Mister Sistrom. One was that the man had been driving recklessly the night he died. In order to deny the claims on that basis, he’d have to come up with evidence to suggest that the man was a poor driver. No such incident reports or legal fines had been entered onto his vehicle insurance file. Unless his regular mechanic would testify otherwise, that seemed an unlikely outcome.
The second was what appeared on the surface to have happened. He lost control of his hovercar on a curve, then hit the ground hard enough to cause a power plant fire. He was driving in the dark on a rural road without any control systems. Similar times and places had led to fatal accidents before. There was nothing to say this was any different.
Except for the power plant catching on fire. He wasn’t an expert on vehicles, but he knew enough as an insurance investigator to know how highly unusual such an event was.
That led him to option three. Mister Sistrom was a murder victim.
To deny the claims on the basis of that, he’d have to come up with strong evidence of murder. He’d need to find a killer and determine how they committed the crime.
Luckily, motive is easy. Half a million credits is a lot of motive.
Though he thought the voice telling him the case might not be a two-day job was probably right, he couldn’t act on vague notions of possibilities. He needed facts. He instructed the vehicle to take him to the city building. He wanted to know what the police had on the accident, and why they hadn’t looked into it.
Was there something he was missing? Or was there something they’d missed?
Pierre Eggar is an insurance investigator for Alliance Insurance, which operates within Independent Worlds Alliance. He’s looking into a claim over the death of one Rob Sistrom. But something about Sistrom’s death in a hovercar accident doesn’t quite add up.
Could it have been a freak accident? Could it have been murder? If it was murder, who killed Sistrom? His wife? His daughter? An angry stranger? There’s a half-million insurance policy at stake, so Eggar has to work quickly to determine if the payout and the death are linked.
Thanks for reading!
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