Novel total = 24,052 words
Post total = 898 words
“Yeah, and compare Cobain’s records with yours. The murderer may not switch identities until he must. Too bad you didn’t lock up Goumbi and Strual two nights ago/last night.” She looked at D’pa.
His lavender face betrayed no emotion. “Goumbi is innocent.”
“Can you send us some tickets to the land of denial you’re enjoying so much?” Zy folded her arms and glared back.
“You Agents think you are much smarter than racketeers. I will not fall for your tricks.”
Xeryl shook his head.
“How about sending your people to find Goumbi, if you’re so convinced you’re right?”
D’pa didn’t say anything before stalking out of the house.
His employees were still searching for Goumbi when the coroner came back down the stairs. “Come up, please, D’pa. There needs to be some sort of identification done on this body. Then I can move it to my lab.”
He didn’t look happy, but the Outhern headed up the stairs. Zy raised her eyebrows and looked at Xeryl before heading up behind him. Xeryl followed and Mealte guarded the stairs.
The coroner stood back by the stairs. D’pa stared down at the uncovered Ecanian body with glistening red eyes. “It’s Goumbi. That’s his tattoo.” He touched the tattoo that circled an arm tentacle like a band. “But it can’t be Goumbi, it can’t.”
Zy steeled herself and went to the other side of the bed. The blood splatter fanned out and up from the head of the bed, covering the ceiling, back wall, and floor beside the bed. She avoided looking at the swollen body to focus on where the head should be.
“Let me guess, death due to sudden explosion of the head.” Xeryl leaned his chest against the top of the banister.
“You ruined the surprise.” A part of the skull remained on the rusty pillow. She turned back to the coroner. “Did you find any evidence of where the murderer stood? The one I’m tracking likes to watch.”
The coroner clicked his beak. “No, unfortunately. Do you know how this is done? Fudlack didn’t have any traces of explosives. I’m confident Goumbi won’t either.”
Zy shook her head. “No, I don’t. Possatact and Ifeket didn’t have any explosive traces neither. Cobaine is the anomaly; somebody forced him to shoot himself and then stole the gun. How long do you think Goumbi has been dead?”
“I won’t have anything close to exact until I do the lab work, but I’d guess around a month.”
D’pa looked up from the body. “Goumbi was an imposter for the last month? That’s impossible; no one can impersonate that well for that long! And feet, you said the murderer had feet!”
“Look, I’m the first to admit nothing about this case makes much sense. Maybe he had an accomplice.”
“Strual!”
“Was Strual the Goumbi impersonator?”
“No, the guards had Strual when I questioned Goumbi last night.”
“Then the murderer with the feet must have an Ecanian accomplice. But the only way we’ll know for sure is to catch the murderer. Are ther any other racketeers that he can use Goumbi’s identity to get close enough to kill?”
D’pa focused on Zy’s face, but his eyes were distant. “Goumbi worked for Hiqurguet before working for Fudlack.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, D’pa.” Zy watched as his face twisted as it turned away. “And I am sorry for your loss.” Xeryl offered his arm but Zy ignored it, preferring to walk down the stairs unaided.
The driver of the vehicle stopped in front of Zy’s saucer. Zy, Xeryl, and Mealte climbed out. Zy clutched the viddisk and moved to the ramp. She wanted a shower, a nice safe shower where she could bawl her eyes out without anyone knowing.
Xeryl’s voice stopped her. “Do you want me to come along and smooth things over with Hiqurguet?”
“Is he a bloodthirsty, paranoid, meglomaniac?”
“Not that I’ve noticed from the dealings I’ve had with him.”
“Then no. You go check your organization for who’s missing.”
“I can handle that via a communication link.”
Zy sighed. “Then stay for Goumbi’s autopsy and collect that information for me. This is stuff I need, Xeryl. I’m sorry if you don’t think it’s very exciting.”
Xeryl started to say something, but stopped and shook his head. “Please eat something on the trip. Good luck.” He turned around, climbed into the vehicle, and it drove off.
Mealte stared at Zy. She stormed up the ramp to avoid his large black eyes. “What are you looking at! Let’s go.”
The Personal Journal of IGA Agent Zy
Chapter Seven
After the shower, Zy actually felt hungry. And something smelling delicious was coming from the galley. She followed the circular hallway of the saucer to find Mealte stirring the bubbling pot on the built-in stove. “You cooked?” She inhaled deeply. It smelled like beef stew.
“I consulted Sara on your preferences, Mistress Zy. Is your appetite available?”
“Yeah, I want something to eat.” She tried to get a bowl, but Mealte whisked it away from her. She sat at the small table and was compently served. It was delicious. “Do you garden too?”
Mealte shook his hand in the air. “No, that is not one of my skills.”
“Good, gardening sucks.” She looked up at him standing next to the table. “You can eat with me. I don’t object to you cooking because I burn water, but we don’t have to dirty the galley twice.”
“Thank you, Mistress.” He fixed a bowl and sat in the table’s only other chair. “Do you mind personal questions?”
No comments:
Post a Comment