Schmidt & Jones in Death by Kindness

By Heidi Manley

On 23rd century Earth, the spaceports are in lockdown. Rumours of a deadly virus has caused worldwide panic – and that's before the bodies start appearing. Private detectives Jonathan Schmidt and Adelaide Jones are put onto the case, but even they realise they are out of their depth when the death toll starts to rise.

Schmidt and

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rowanvale Books Ltd
• Release date: Sep 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781911569039

Heidi Manley

Heidi Manley was born and raised in Dorset, and currently lives with two cats, a rabbit and some humans. She has always had a love of books, especially anything in the sci-fi and fantasy genre. Heidi remembers being told off for daydreaming in class, and only began writing once she had left school. When not writing, she can usually be found painting or watching boxsets.

Book preview

Prologue

In the beginning there was silence, and then, with no warning, life began.

We were the first, young and gentle, with only our own to hear our songs among the stars. But gradually, others similar to us were born. We conveyed our songs through the stars so that they would learn and listen to our words as our ancestors had listened and learned. Centuries passed, and the wide space that had once been empty was filled with the joy of our passion. But then it began to be filled with other qualities: greed, hatred and jealousy.

Before long, our songs stopped bringing joy to people and, instead, made them risk all they had for what we called our greatest treasure. This was unacceptable after everything we had done for them, in terms of education and kindness. We would not stand for it! We had always known how to defend ourselves but had seen no need to do so before that point. However, we wiped out those who opposed us and shut ourselves away from the rest of the universe.

Silence once again filled the universe, and it became a black and damaged void. We became nothing more than a story, a whisper in the universe. However, we were always there, waiting, ready to take down anyone else who tried to harm our family for their own greedy purposes. Eventually that day came, but this time we were ready. This time, we planned to wipe out everything that posed a threat to our kind until nothing remained but justice and the Unity.

* * *

Earth’s spaceports had been overflowing for two weeks. Ships from all over the galaxy could land on Earth, but none were able to leave. The authorities were doing a good job of hushing up the exact details of why every terminal was closed, but everyone knew something was going on. Something had caused a global shutdown through all of the terminals, and it was costing the owner of the biggest spaceport millions—or so it seemed.

Thanks to reports about a deadly virus seeking its way to Earth, panic was spreading, especially when the spaceports took in ships from across the universe. Authorities had assured humans and aliens alike on Earth that, whilst the spaceports were shut, nothing could get in to harm them. Residents of Earth were partially relieved; however, visitors from other planets, just wanting to go home, were less so, as well as a very particular business man.

Spaceport Jarvis III was owned by the richest man on Earth. Over half of humanity had decided to leave Earth hundreds of years ago to settle down on other planets throughout the universe, but not Arthur Green.

Green was a proud and selfish man, and in his early fifties, he had set out to take all he could from Earth. Although most of its natural beauty had vanished by then, especially from the coastlines, Earth was still popular with tourists from every point in space: Ventrians from Ventria, Athanians from Athania, Martians from Mars (of course), and the odd human who wanted to know where their ancestors had once lived.

Green owned half of the hotels and businesses on Earth, so he personally took well over half of what they made, but now the tourists were demanding their money back. They couldn’t take their spaceships out of the terminals and go back home, nor could they afford the increased hotel prices. Green had no choice but to pay their bills out of his own pocket. It hardly made a dent in his fortune, but Green never liked to part with his money unless he knew it would add to his own wealth in future.

To make matters worse, the media were hanging around to see if they could pick up any more details on why the terminals were closed. He had tightened security to make sure no reporters passed through the doors, but it was getting harder and harder to do so, especially when the press were disguising themselves as stranded holiday-makers looking for rooms in which to stay. Green, of course, would have preferred to turn every non-paying guest away and get everything back to normal; otherwise, this would end up costing him billions.

Perhaps it was just as well he had those benefactors of his paying in Earth-standard currency for—what had they said it was?—‘health and safety issues’. It didn’t matter to him; as long as he was getting paid, he’d let anyone use the grounds of Jarvis III. He just hoped it never meant that more money was going out of his accounts than was coming in. The benefactors were more than generous, but Arthur Green could not risk losing his fortune.

‘For Blathgo’s sake!’ Green banged his fist angrily on the desk, causing his long-suffering secretary to jump in her seat as she scribbled down some notes. ‘Denise, I want those terminals cleared within the next hour,’ he snarled. ‘I want to know why they are still blocked and why the hell I’m not being told anything. And get that idiot to switch the electricity back on. If not, you’ll have to find another job.’

He slammed the door behind him as he left, causing Denise to roll her eyes and shake her blonde curls in annoyance. She almost wished he had sacked her, just so she could be free of this torment. She breathed a sigh of relief as her computer blinked back to life, and continued with her tasks as if there had been no disturbance.

She tapped away mindlessly at her keyboard, waiting for the Health Department to get back to her. They had first got in contact a couple of days ago, so she could have informed Green why Jarvis III was being grounded, as well as all the other terminals. If she had wanted to, that was. She hadn’t told Green so she could see him suffer, for a change.

She smiled smugly, glanced from her keyboard to her computer screen, and then froze.

Her hands hovered over the keyboard as the screen glowed an eerie mauve colour. ‘What the…?’ Denise muttered as the screen pulsed with what seemed like electricity, crackling away inside. Her soft brown eyes glanced upwards as the office lights flickered, sending a shudder down her spine. She turned her gaze back to the computer screen and saw the weird purple light moving out of it.

Something made her reach out and touch it. As the spark ran onto her skin and through her body, she could feel it burning and blistering inside her. A terrible fire raged within her, and she let out a soundless scream.

The blackness enveloped her.

* * *

In the minutes leading up to Denise Yew’s death, in the basement fifteen floors below, a highly skilled, six-armed engineer named Grask was humming to himself as he worked on the electrics. It was only a low-paid job for him, but Grask accepted any jobs he was offered; he wanted to bring some money home for his pregnant wife. This turned out to be a very unfortunate decision for him. Declining that job would have meant living to see another day.

But Grask was not to know this.

He began his work cheerfully. Earlier, he’d received a call from the manager of a fancy spaceport, asking him to do a reading on the electrics and make sure everything was in order. It was an easy task that wouldn’t take him long at all. So how could Grask possibly turn it down? He didn’t quite catch the manager’s name, and though the voice on the end of the comm-link sounded cold and a little threatening, Grask couldn’t help think about the money he would earn for his wife and child-to-be. He was even assured that there could be a permanent job for him if all went to plan. Somehow, the manager knew he was experienced and could do any job quickly and without fuss.

This would be unfortunate for the rest of the population who wanted to live beyond the next seventy-two hours.

Grask’s job was coming to the end. Remarkably, everything seemed to be in order as he fiddled with the wires, finally replacing the covers back onto the cupboard. That was before a strong, metallic smell suddenly hit his nostrils.

Wrinkling his nose, he quickly switched the electricity back on.

If only he had paid attention to his senses.

If only he’d waited a couple of seconds before switching the mains back on.

If only he’d not been so hasty to get back home to his wife.

If only he had noticed the dark purple sparks start to build around the cabinet, crawling and buzzing at the edges like bees drawn to nectar, squeezing their way through the wires and into the system with hunger and desire.

Sadly, Grask noticed nothing.

A deadly spark reached out to dance on his fingertips before throwing his lifeless body to the other side of the room. Nobody would discover his corpse until it was far too late to stop what was happening. Nobody would realise, until far too late, that all of this had started because a man had simply done his job. Grask was just a pawn, an unwitting player in a game that would endanger the entire planet within a few days.

Grask and Denise would be the only ones on the planet granted a quick and painless death. Everyone else would suffer, the skies would burn, and the Unity would feast.

One

The young detective’s lips curled up into a smirk as she pointed the gun directly in front of her. She felt her heart quicken with excitement, and she tried to steady her breathing. She aimed at the forehead. Her finger curled around the trigger, pulling it back ever so slowly and keeping her breathing natural, which was the right thing to do. Holding one’s breath when firing would only make the aim worse. She aimed a fraction higher to make sure the shot would end the life of the man stood directly in front of her. Her finger caressed the trigger, squeezing it ever so lightly, feeling the jolt in her arm as the bullet bit into the victim.

Her opponent’s face remained blank and expressionless.

Adelaide Jones sighed and tossed the pistol to the side of her desk, letting it clatter to the floor. It was an out-of-date weapon, and she knew it.

Adelaide rested her feet on top of the desk that she shared with Schmidt. He was late, as usual, so he couldn’t exactly complain. Clicking her deadly red heels as boredom seeped through her, she switched on the hologram television and skipped through the channels.

She studied her own reflection in the hologram screen hanging in front of her. Her fresh blue eyes stared back at her: wide, intelligent and full of laughter—but only on the surface. If you were to look deeper, you would see the sadness hidden beneath the layers. Secrets and lies lurked in her mind, secrets that even Schmidt didn’t know about.

She sighed again, running a hand through her thin, brown curls, which seemed to have a mind of their own. Life was unfair and cruel, and she knew that more than anyone else. She thought back to the times when she had been called beautiful, and when she, dared she say it, had even been happy. It seemed such a long time ago. Perhaps now was the right moment to move on.

Adelaide frowned, realising she had a finger raised tentatively to her lips. She remembered him, the one who had used to gently touch those lips each night before leaving her till the next morning. How was she to have known that night would be the last? Secrets had devoured her from the inside, and she was the only one who knew what she had done for the sake of one person. Her hands gently trembled, and her finger slipped from her lips.

She realised with sudden horror what she was doing, and with slight embarrassment, she noted she was crying. Adelaide shut down the hologram, wiping away tears before they started to fall, and moved back in her seat.

Frowning deeply, she stared at the cracked white paint on the walls. The whole room was bare apart from the two filing cabinets to the side and the desk scattered with bills. Neither Adelaide nor Schmidt kept any memorabilia there—a few pictures of the two of them were the only touch of sentimentality. Adelaide smiled slightly as she saw the picture of her and Schmidt covered in goo at the end of their first case. She felt her heart tug a little as she remembered how well everything had gone before…

She shook herself out of her memories. That case had been over five years ago, and both of them had since moved on. Even though it meant going without any cases for four weeks, in her case.

Adelaide looked over to the plaque on the door that bore both of their names: ‘Adelaide Jones & Jonathan Schmidt. Private Investigators.’ There had once been more words on the door, but time had erased them. Modern crime wasn’t a simple matter of solving the murder of someone in a locked room. Things were a lot more hectic these days, now that they had aliens and technology to keep up with. Nothing was unusual any more—in fact, if she didn’t hear about half-eaten bodies littering the streets every now and again, Adelaide would have started worrying.

Times may have been changing, but that didn’t mean things were getting any better. Adelaide began to hum gently to herself, an old Earth hymn that her mum had used to sing her to sleep. She abruptly stopped humming; the thought of her mum was too painful.

A sudden clatter jerked her away from her thoughts as her partner in crime, as he liked to refer to himself, burst into the room.

‘Wotcha, Jones... Did you miss me?’ The brown-haired humanoid beamed at her before slumping into his usual battered leather chair. His style had somewhat improved since the last time she had seen him—he was actually wearing a suit and tie. True, the tie was looped around his head like some rebellious teenager, but it was a start.

‘Like a hole in the head, Schmidt,’ Adelaide replied, rolling her eyes. She smoothed her hands down over her dress.

Schmidt’s vivid green eyes slid over the gun Adelaide had thrown to the floor, and he raised an eyebrow in disapproval as he looked to her target. ‘You do realise that this guy is an old shop dummy, and therefore poses no actual threat whatsoever?’

Adelaide knew he knew what she did when he wasn’t in the office. The reason she did it—well, he still was trying to work that out. Adelaide could tell by the worried look on his face, which he tried to mask, that her hobby frankly worried him. Sometimes it was safer not to ask questions. Sometimes it was better never knowing the truth or the past. As for Adelaide, well, she certainly had a complicated past.

‘Aw, come on, are you telling me you didn’t miss me at all, Addie? I bet you missed me really—it’s not like we’ve got anything else to occupy ourselves with… Addie... Come on, play nice.’

‘Addie? What, is that my nickname from now on? What happened to Jones?’

Adelaide slid her feet off the desk as he looked up at her, grinning like a Cheshire cat. His eyes were as wide and mischievous as always, their emerald shade tinted with a half-hidden sadness.

‘You know how easily bored I can get with things,’ Schmidt sighed dramatically, swinging around on his chair as he waved a hand around casually. ‘Plus, it was either that or AJ…’ He grinned again, knowing she hated that.

Adelaide frowned at him and rolled her eyes. ‘Hmm, I seem to recall something of your ability to get bored easily—usually nearly costing us our lives! What is it… eight times we’ve nearly died because you were bored? The Princess of Arwen really wanted our heads on spikes…’ She pouted lightly, trying to pretend she wasn’t impressed, as she crossed her arms over her chest, but secretly, she had enjoyed that case too.

‘Ah, the Princess of Arwen! How was I to know she was in the same room I’d put the Blenrat? Sure, it could have gnawed her legs away to bony stumps, but she really didn’t need to react the way she did. You know, I think she was just a tiny bit jealous of our partnership.’

Schmidt had jumped off the seat and leant across the desk as he spoke, causing Adelaide’s heart to beat erratically.

‘Oh, shut up,’ she said. She knew he only meant business partner, but every time he smiled, it sent her body almost into meltdown. Not that anything would ever happen; he’d left the past behind him, yet she was still fighting hers. ‘We only just managed to get out of that alive,’ she pointed out.

‘And you still weren’t very grateful… I came up with a plan! I always have a plan… Well, most of the time, I make them up as I go along, but who’s counting, eh?’ Schmidt winked and moved to look out the window, keeping his attention away from Adelaide as he chewed his lip.

‘I’m counting, that’s who—and jumping out of a window thousands of feet up in the air is not a great plan. Nor is hiding the ship a few feet below the window, covered by the invisibility shield—you could have warned me! I thought that was it... Plus, I ended up with so many bruises you’d have thought greeny-yellow was my skin colour.’ She stayed beside the desk, watching him with a slightly annoyed look on her face—although she had to silently admit he had saved her life.

‘Oh, come off it; you weren’t as bruised as your ego though, hmm?’ he said lightly, still staring out the window and down at the street below.

‘My ego is not, and has never been, bruised!’ Adelaide snapped.

Schmidt just chuckled slightly, still not bothering to look at her. That was when she knew something was on his mind.

Normally he’d have some witty comment to make back at her, like mentioning the time they had been chasing a known criminal down the street and she’d been wearing a dress where the straps had snapped, and the dress had ended up around her ankles. Noting his absent retort and the somewhat half-hearted laugh, Adelaide made her way to him. She smiled softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He looked around, his bright eyes gazing into hers.

‘Did you manage to find us a case?’ she asked hesitantly, biting her lip when he resumed staring out the window.

‘A woman—pregnant, at that—called me, wanting us to help find her husband,’ Schmidt said. ‘I took all the details; he’s an alien named Grask. She said he’s been missing since yesterday or something. The police won’t look at it, deeming it unimportant. How can they do that? Just... how?’ He sighed, shaking his head as he pulled a few notes from his jacket and placed them on the desk.

‘Don’t worry, that’s why we’re here,’ Adelaide said quietly. ‘We help with these things. We’ll have a look at it in a minute—and I know we’re going to find Grask alive and well.’

She paused, thinking about how to be comforting and sound convincing, and Schmidt just smiled crookedly at her before shaking his head. He frowned deeply, staring out at the streets of London again. Its shiny, modern skyscrapers towered over the smaller, more ornate buildings that had been there for centuries. The sky was just beginning to swirl with light grey clouds; there would be a storm arriving soon.

‘I hope so, but it’s not… it’s not only that. I just wonder whether we are doing more harm than good in doing all of this… Maybe it’s time I stopped.’

Adelaide let go of his arm, glaring at him with a mixture of shock and confusion on her face. ‘What the hell?!’ She slammed her hands over his chest. ‘Don’t you dare! You… you can’t leave now, not after everything we’ve built up! Don’t you dare!’ Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, as he softly grabbed hold of her wrists and stared into her eyes. This should have calmed her down, as it usually did, but this time it only made it worse.

‘Calm down… Please, let me explain!’ Schmidt kept his voice calm and low, but as always, it held a hidden authority that made her want to do as he asked.

She shook her head violently, struggling against his hold.

‘Get off me! Get off!’ she shouted. She assumed the worst—that this was it: no more Schmidt and Jones, no more solving crimes or stopping weird plans from alien races.

After a few more minutes spent struggling, she finally slowed to a stop, breathing harshly, her face hot and bothered. Schmidt had carried on staring down at her, amused, but after she had stopped struggling against his restraints, he let his hands drop, smiling lightly.

‘Now will you let me explain? Look, I just don’t know where this is going… I mean, look at all the bills we have yet to pay!’ He glanced at the papers strewn across the desktop. ‘Everything I’ve seen here… no matter how many times we think we’ve won, there are always some people we can’t help. Sometimes good people die because of our judgements.’

Schmidt looked down, ashamed.

Adelaide felt her heart thud heavily in her chest, hating the way he looked so sad. He had a point, though. All those deaths, and for what? Just so they could get another recognition from the ‘space police’, or whatever they called themselves these days? She cupped his cheek lightly, her deep blue eyes tearing up a little.

‘If it weren’t for us, many more people would have died,’ she whispered.

Schmidt nodded and smiled weakly. Sniffling, he took her hand lightly and kissed it gently before moving away. His usual cheeky grin spread across his face, as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened.

Adelaide gave a small smile in return, but she knew at some point they would probably have to revisit this conversation; Schmidt’s doubts would run round and round his mind for ages otherwise, knowing him. Heck, he could be thinking about it for the next hundred years or more if she didn’t intervene!

These days, it was hard to tell what anyone’s age was. Most humans lived way past the age of 150, if they chose to, because of advanced medical resources, and could keep looking around fifty. Adelaide, though only twenty-five, had no wish to live beyond the natural years that life would decide for her, but she knew that Schmidt, who was in his late twenties, had the alien ability to live for 200 years or so.

Most aliens who had decided to make themselves known on Earth could easily outlive two generations of humans. Back in the early days, life outside of Earth