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"Not to mention to Ren S'orn," Qui-Gon said. "No doubt Je
"Exactly," Qui-Gon said. "Either data pad — remember, we now know that Je
Obi-Wan nodded. "I have a feeling I know where we're heading next."
"Yes," Qui-Gon said. "To see Je
Chapter 12
Obi-Wan stood uneasily in the lobby of the luxury hotel. He had been in palaces and grand houses before. He had seen luxurious surroundings, thick carpets, fine metals, ornately carved furniture. He had observed without feeling part of it, as a Jedi should. He had never felt awkward, even in the palace of a queen.
But here he felt differently. The walls were of a white polished stone with veins of pinkish gold. The floor under his feet was black hard stone, polished to a high sheen. He was afraid to sit on the plush sofas and chairs. He suddenly noticed the stains of his dessert on his tunic.
The rich swirled around him, coming to and fro from the many restaurants off the lobby, or picking up mail and keys. Their eyes slid past him, as if he was not worth their notice. Their voices were low and hushed, unlike the busy chatter on the crowded streets.
As usual, Qui-Gon looked perfectly at ease. He walked to the desk and asked the clerk to ring Je
The clerk spoke into a private comlink headpiece and listened for a moment. "You may go up," he said. Then he directed them to the turbolift that would take them to the seventy-seventh floor.
Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon into a large lift tube lined with a rosy stone that made him feel as though he were in the center of a flower. The tube doors opened, and he stepped out onto a thick, cushioned carpet.
Je
Qui-Gon bowed. "Thank you for seeing us. I am Qui-Gon Ji
She returned the bow. "Je
"We are friends of Astri and Didi Oddo," Qui-Gon said.
Je
She turned and led them into a vast room with the same polished black stone floor as the lobby. Plush white sofas were arranged in two seating areas, one intimate and one grand. Gauzy white draperies hung at the floor-to-ceiling windows and pooled on the floor. Outside, the lights of the passing traffic were like traveling stars through a fine mist.
Je
Zan Arbor waved her hand at the room. "I don't feel comfortable with all this. But the conference is paying for it. I'm used to a more… practical environment. I spend most of my time in my lab." She turned luminous gray eyes to them. "What can I do for you?"
"We are investigating a murder," Qui-Gon said. "Someone you spoke with at the Senate. His name was High. He posed as a Senatorial aide and gave you a card for Didi's restaurant —"
"Of course, I remember," Zan Arbor said immediately. "He had one green eye. He praised the food and atmosphere of this place. I don't know Coruscant very well, so I followed up on the tip."
"Why did you leave the cafй so abruptly tonight?" Qui-Gon asked.
The scientist gave a low laugh. "Because my guests were miserable. It was not what I had been led to expect. I know that sounds snobbish, but I was trying to make a good impression. The conference has a number of grants for scientific projects. I need funding." She shrugged slender shoulders. "So we came back here and the hotel accommodated us." She paused. "But why should my di
Instead of answering, Qui-Gon asked another question. "You are friends with Senator S'orn?" "Yes."
"And you know that her son died, and how he died, I presume," Qui-Gon said.
Zan Arbor nodded, but a frosty look took over her warm gaze. "Of course I do. I hardly think it's your business. That was a great tragedy for Uta."
"Not for you, though," Qui-Gon stated.
She gave him a hard look. "No. I was sorry for my friend, but it was not a personal tragedy. What are you implying?"
"Nothing at all," Qui-Gon said easily. "We are just investigating. Could I have a list of the guests at your di
"Why?" Zan Arbor asked, irritation now coloring her even tone.
"Because someone attacked the owner and his daughter after your party left," Qui-Gon answered. "I don't think it's necessary, but later it might help if we could question them."
"I hardly think…" Zan Arbor's irritated tone ended in a shrug. "Why not. I have nothing to hide." She crossed to a desk and scrawled some names on a durasheet, then handed it to Obi-Wan. He tucked it in his tunic.
She sat down again. "Can I ask you what Ren S'orn's murder has to do with this Fligh person, or the attack at the cafй?"
"Maybe nothing at all," Qui-Gon said.
The scientist's gaze was cool. "I think I'm begi
"I did not mean to imply that," Qui-Gon said.
"Yet here you are," she pointed out crisply. "I assume you know who I am."
Qui-Gon nodded.
"I'm not accustomed to someone coming to my private quarters and linking me to a murder. Murder is not a topic that is familiar to me. I live in the world of transgenic research. So you must forgive me if I'm a little confused and upset."
"Of course," Qui-Gon said. "Murder is an upsetting topic."
Zan Arbor gave a brief smile. "Especially for the victim. Let's finish this. What else do you need to know?"
"Why didn't you report the theft of your data pad?" Qui-Gon asked. "You must have been upset about it."
"I was not upset. I have backup of all my files on data cards."
"Uta S'orn was upset," Qui-Gon said.
"She had a reason to be," Zan Arbor answered, an edge to her voice. "She had private information on that data pad. She was forced to resign before pushing through an important piece of legislation."