The Case of the Boring Lingerie

Posted on 17 Jan 2015 @ 4:50pm by Lieutenant Olsam Mott & Lieutenant Tuula Voutilainen M.D.

2,455 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 07 - Sojourn
Location: USS Galileo, Deck 3, Mott's Quarters
Timeline: MD16: 1400 hrs

[ ON ]

Detective Chief Superintendent Ritt Mott of the Kondenkraag Borough Operational Command Unit of the Capital District Metropolitan Police Force on Bolarus IX had both Tuula and Olsam seated together on the couch in their quarters while he very deliberately paced back and forth in front of them.

"Now, there are several curious things that have led me to draw this most inevitable of conclusions. I present first Exhibit A: the undergarments of Dr. Tuula Voutilainen worn just this Tuesday past," DCS Mott said, using an elongated piece of metal to retrieve and hold out a very dour and functional looking pair of women's lingerie from the Capital District MPF evidence bag he was holding. "Upon discovering them, I asked myself, 'Detective Chief Superintendent Mott, are these the undergarments of a recently married woman at her sexual peak?' The answer, of course, is that they are not. They are more likely to be found in the laundry hamper of a woman who hasn't known the company of another man in at least five years, perhaps more."

Seeing Olsam about to open his mouth, Tuula placed a hand on his knee. "I'll handle this, Olsam," she said before turning back to the detective who by all rights should be off duty. "Allow me to answer all of your questions with a question of my own," she said, looking up at the detective and conducting herself in the manner of a character from a Sherlock Holmes novel. Then, in an instant, her eyes narrowed as she stared down the blue detective, barely able to contain her rage. "What the hell are you doing with my underwear, you psychotic creep?!"

"Uncle, please," Olsam said, clenching his teeth.

His eyes darted to the bonesaw Tuula had bolted to the wall and worried it might not be as secure as it looked; in a fit of rage, she might be able to rip it down and take a healthy chunk out of his uncle before he could do anything to stop her. But the greater concern was whatever his uncle was going on about... He'd asked them both to meet him here to discuss something 'of great import,' which usually meant food when a Mott was involved. But instead they'd found his uncle dressed in his duty uniform from the Metropolitan Police Force of Bolarus' capital city.

"Don't blame me for your personal habits," DCS Mott said, wrinkling up his nose in some sort of commentary on it. He'd actually found the underwear in the laundry hamper next to the replicator, waiting to be cleaned, but that seemed moot at this point in time.

"Now, just a minute," Olsam interjected defensively, but he was cut off prematurely by his uncle's upraised hand.

"Please, allow me to continue," DCS Mott pleaded. He replaced 'Exhibit A' back into the evidence bag and resumed his pacing in front of them. "One week ago, you will recall some of the family was here for tea and biscuits and spiral-cut honey ham. The spread was lovely - we all appreciated it very much - but it was during that time that I took note of something very curious. I recall you, Tuula, asking my dear nephew to quantify the level of sugar he prefers in his tea. A polite enough question, to be sure...for strangers." He whirled around on his heel and fixed them with an accusatory look. "Yet, a little odd for a woman married to a Bolian, wouldn't you say? At the time, I thought perhaps my nephew had ever-changing tastes... An easy enough explanation, yes? Except...I have observed over the past week that Olsam always takes four spoonfuls of sugar with his tea."

"We have not been married long," explained Tuula, putting her background in amateur theatre to use. Technically it wasn't a lie in that Tuula and Mott have in reality not been married for a long period of time. "And it was not a long courtship either. When I met Olsam, it was love at first sight. Isn't that right, Olsam?" asked Tuula, giving Mott a little stage cue before wrapping an arm around him and pulling him closer for a kiss on the cheek to drive the point home.

Olsam smiled politely and did his best to look comfortable, which of course just made him look incredibly uncomfortable. Thankfully, he often appeared awkward and out of place, so it was hard to tell if he was actually uncomfortable or if he was just being his usual self. He gave a little silly grin and shrugged. "Yep. Love at first sight."

"Now, Detective Mott, have you any more so-called evidence?" Tuula added in a dismissive tone.

"Detective Chief Superintendent Mott," the man corrected, insisting for whatever reason on using his full title. He seemed more astute than your average Mott but clearly had his own bizarre little quirks. From within the evidence bag, he suddenly produced a holographic camera and held it up for them to both see. "I present to you Exhibit B, holo-photos taken of your respective quarters on the ship."

With the push of a button, he cycled through several photos while he spoke. "You will note that aside from some pointedly placed objects, there is nothing to indicate marriage, much less a romantic relationship. No pictures together beneath a Risian sunset. No tacky and unwanted gifts displayed ostentatiously for the benefit of the other person's ego. The few things we do see seem like they've just been moved from one room to another, a carefully orchestrated scene. These pictures do not reflect an integrated life. In comparison, we see the quarters of one of your ship's couples..."

The holo-photos revealed something of a mess: clothes mixed in together everywhere, some dishes still on the table, a hodge podge of different art and decorating styles, and objects from separate lives brought together in disharmony. By contrast, the pictures of Olsam and Tuula's respective quarters looked almost sterile. The last two pictures revealed the crewmembers returning to their quarters, apparently surprised and then angry to find a Bolian in their living space taking pictures. Ritt quickly cycled past those then shut the device off.

"Like I said earlier, love at first sight," replied Tuula, her eyes quickly darting around the room. That was something she missed; a few holoshopped pictures would have perfected the illusion. Of course, hanging up her bone saw was the best she could do given the short amount of time she had. "And with the three of us living in quarters designed for two, we have to manage our clutter and be as neat as possible."

Tuula looked over at Mott; she could see he was starting to crack under his uncle's questioning. "Besides, what do I need a picture of Olsam for when I have the real thing right here?" she added, pulling him in close again and giving him another affectionate peck on the cheek.

Olsam couldn't stop thinking about the number pf pathogens that moved from one person to another during the act of kissing. Studies varied on the exact number but it was somewhere around 80 million bacteria for one kiss, so how many were transferred when you kissed on the cheek? 40 million? Less? He was far from being mysophobic, but the more he thought about it the more disgusting it seemed. Why did people even kiss? Enough germs were passed around through every day contact without going out of your way to spread more of them around. Ugh, and then sex... As his thoughts rambled on, his face slowly took on a look of near horrified disgust.

"Yes, it had occurred to me that this sanitized environment was the product of three personalities from the sciences. But then there is the curious fact that not once during the entire duration of our visit have you engaged in sexual intercourse. Not once," DCS Mott said, raising his voice an octave for emphasis.

"What?" Olsam huffed, sitting up straight on the couch and doing his best to look offended. "How do you know? Have you been spying on us?"

Tuula cringed and jabbed an elbow into Mott's side at his admission. Olsam had just given it all away.

"The hows and whys are not important," DCS Mott replied, waving the questions off. "The facts speak for themselves. And we find it hard to believe that either of your wives - both of whom seem quite feisty - practice celibacy. But..." He held his hand up to ward off any protests. "For argument's sake, let's say they do."

"Yes, for argument's sake, lets say they do," replied Tuula, encouraging the detective to continue.

"Right. And so, what am I left with? You have uninspired undergarments. Your courtship was fairly short, and you're still learning about one another. And you've chosen a life of celibacy. It all makes sense," DCS Mott said casually, sealing up the evidence bag. He shrugged and turned to go, as if the case was solved, but stopped just short of the door sensor and shook his head. Turning around slowly, he had a look of puzzlement on his face, like he was trying to figure out some great mystery.

"But you see, there's just one more thing... You're saying all these things, sitting there on the couch together, the picture of wedded bliss. But there's a problem I just can't quite figure out: there's no marriage license on file for you two. None for Lieutenant Commander Stace, either. Not on Starbase 84, not on Earth, not on Bolarus. Not anywhere in the Federation. Not under your given names, assumed names or aliases. It's as if the entire thing was just..." He raised his free hand into the air, fingers all pressed together, then released them and spread his hand out. "...made up out of thin air."

"Marriage licenses? Paperwork, schmaperwork, who needs them when you're in love?" asked Tuula rhetorically. But she knew her efforts at explaining the discrepancies away were all in vain. The detective had them dead to rights. So, she changed tactics.

"May I see Exhibit B again?" she asked, as her eyes wandered to the sealed bag containing the detective's camera.

DCS Mott reached into the evidence bag and handed it over to Tuula with no small amount of skepticism. "I assure you my forensic analysis is beyond reproach..."

"Of course, detective," replied Tuula as she placed the bag in her lap, a hint of a grin appearing on her face. She had him right where she wanted him.

"Bravo, detective. Or should I say, Detective Chief Superintendant," she continued, doing a little golf clap for emphasis. "Bravo. Of course, you forgot one little thing."

"He did?" Olsam asked.

"I did?" DCS Mott inquired, thinking he'd summed it all up rather nicely.

"You are a little out of your jurisdiction. This holo-camera has your fingerprints on it, and contains photographs of the inside of crew quarters on the Galileo -- quarters which you are undoubtedly unauthorized to enter. The evidence in my lap thus places you at the scene of a break and enter -- something which is very much frowned upon in these parts. Not to mention the stolen goods which you are in possession of." With her last statement, Tuula gestured towards the bag containing her undergarments. She glanced over at Mott for a second, offering him a subtle wink, encouraging him to play along. "Doctor Mott, do you know how how many lashes Starfleet protocol calls for as a standard punishment for B&E and theft?"

Little beads of sweat had formed on Olsam's shaved head, the physical manifestation of his inner nervousness and anxiety. He'd felt eminently out of his depth from the moment his uncle had started talking and if Tuula hadn't been sitting next to him then he would have probably confessed fifteen minutes ago. He wasn't even sure what was transpiring between them. It seemed like some sort of chess game, while Olsam hadn't even graduated from checkers.

"Uh, lashes? What? Like, eyelashes?" he asked, stuttering, seemingly unable to make his mind work well enough to think of anything other than a medical answer.

"Physical lashes," DCS Mott replied, beating Tuula to it. He rubbed at a non-existent beard on his face and watched her carefully, clearly appreciating that he'd been outwitted but still feeling like he had some leverage. "And, disconcerting as that might be, one wonders if my dear sister would dish out as many lashes or more were she to discover this sham of a marriage... I doubt she'd spare either one of you. And I think you've seen how expert she is at wielding that cane."

Olsam went wide-eyed and practically flopped over to look at Tuula, hoping she had something else to say. This was why you fake married a smart woman.

"Perhaps," replied Tuula, staying calm and collected. "But consider how she might react to the news that her own brother is in the brig. Not to mention the embarrassment and possible career ramifications that one in your profession would suffer if your colleagues found out that you were arrested and thrown in the brig on your vacation."

Tuula paused to let that sink in for a moment, carefully reading the detective. He had an impressive poker face for a Bolian, but a bit of a nervous tic which gave him away. "Of course, neither Olba nor Starfleet Security has to know about any of this," she added.

DCS Mott harrumphed, as if the very idea of colluding with someone was entirely beneath a man of the law. But he didn't decline, either. In fact, as he paced the floor in front of them, he seemed to be mulling the idea over. Of course he could blow the lid on the whole thing at the risk of his own career - he was a servant of the truth after all - but could he serve the greater good by keeping this to himself to prevent self-incrimination?

"I see my nephew chose an accomplice well, someone to cover up for his more obvious deficiencies," the detective said, cutting his eyes to look at the Mott in question. Olsam had taken to nervously chewing on his fingernails and staring at objects on the wall. "I think we can agree it's better that these things don't come to light, yes? Just little secrets between us..."

[OFF]

Lieutenant (J.G.) Tuula Voutilainen, M.D.
Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Olsam Mott, M.D.
Assistant Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Detective Chief Superintendent Ritt Mott
Capital District Metropolitan Police
Bolarus IX
[ NPC - Mott ]

RSS Feed

Comments (2)