Body Politic Read Online Free Page B

She was the only university professor I ever met who found children more interesting than her subject – well, she was a sociologist. She also had a liking for vintage champagne. I wondered when she’d last sampled that. “It is some time since we last had the pleasure of seeing you,” she said drily.
    â€œI haven’t been counting the days, guardian.” Like all those who pass through the rank of auxiliary, the city guardians don’t use names. The roof would have come down if I’d addressed her as Edith.
    â€œI’m sure you haven’t. I think you know most of the Council members. Only my colleagues in the Medical and the Information Directorates are relatively new appointees.”
    I looked at the red-haired woman to her left, then at the improbably handsome man with the mane of silver-blond hair. His thin fingers formed an arch beneath his nose, giving him the appearance of a monk at prayer. The speaker was wrong. I knew Robert Yellowlees well enough. Before the Enlightenment he had played rugby for Scotland. After the party won the last election and took the city into independence, he worked as a surgeon. Later his research into neurology and endocrinology became known around the world, as journals I saw in the library confirmed. He could have jumped ship and worked anywhere, but he preferred to stay and move slowly up his directorate. He’d been in the pathology department when I was in the Public Order Directorate.
    I couldn’t avoid the unwavering glare of the figure sitting next to Yellowlees. While the other Council members had studied expressions of gravity on their faces, the public order guardian at least showed what he really felt – which was hatred of my guts.
    The deputy senior guardian glanced at the unoccupied chair in the centre of the horseshoe. “I’m afraid the senior guardian is again unable to attend the meeting due to illness.”
    First I felt relieved, then uneasy. I made myself ignore both emotions.
    â€œTo the business in hand. Today’s meeting has been brought forward because of the murder that has been reported.” The speaker took a deep breath. “The murder of a female auxiliary right in the heart of the city.” She was unable to restrain a shiver. “This was an act of unspeakable barbarity.”
    â€œCan it really be the otolaryngologist after all this time?” Yellowlees, the medical guardian, looked at me quizzically. I remembered he used to refer to the Ear, Nose and Throat Man by the technical term.
    â€œIt’s incredible. After all the work that’s been done to divert the urge to criminality . . .” The high-pitched voice trailed away. I looked at the bald head of the finance guardian which was glinting under the lights as he moved back and forwards animatedly. You’d have thought he’d be more concerned about the city’s tourist income, but deviant behaviour had always been one of his specialities. Though he’d been a well-known economics professor before the Enlightenment, in certain Edinburgh bars he was more famous for his pursuit of male undergraduates. Under the strict celibacy rules that guardians submit themselves to, the only person he’d have laid hands on recently would have been himself.
    â€œQuite so,” the deputy senior guardian acknowledged, sympathetic but eager to continue. “I will not go into the details of this atrocity as I do not wish to prejudice the opinion of citizen Dalrymple. He is to investigate and find the murderer.”
    So that was it. For a nasty moment I thought the Council was finally on to me, even though I’d disposed of the ENT Man’s body in a site I knew had never been disturbed. No matter how many times I told myself it was an accident, that he’d skewered himself on his own knife, I was responsible. I tried to strangle him like he strangled Caro. I wanted to kill the animal and that’s what