Murder at The Blue Angel

By Melodie Campbell and Mark Alldis

“What’s a beautiful girl like you doing working in a dump like this?”

The randy male from Genera Minor was a little short of pick-up lines.  He was a lot short, period, for my taste.  And green skin never did much for my libido.

“The girl happens to own this dump, that’s what she’s doing here.”  I saw his little pale face turn a darker shade of green. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled.  His golden eyes darted left to right.  He slipped a card across to me.  I looked down, read “E-Galaxy” and sighed.  Years ago, someone had come up with the brilliant idea of setting up a dating service across the galaxy.  You could go online to look for someone, or you could slip your card to someone personally.  All they needed was a reader, and they could peruse your pertinent details and contact into.  There were a lot of lonely males at this end of the galaxy.  I had a drawer full of like cards under the bar.  I thanked him and put this one in with the others.  No sense making the guy feel any worse.

There was a commotion at the door.  I looked up to see Dal stride in.  He was arguing with the big blue alien at his side.

“I know this is all new to you, but goddam, you don’t have to do every single thing I say.  And especially, you don’t have to do what other folk say.”

Alpha looked as puzzled as a six foot five genetically enhanced clone ex-soldier can look.

“But-“

“And another thing: when I say “Go to Hell”, I don’t literally want the ship to go there.  You and Roz nearly drove me crazy trying to figure out the coordinates!”

A giggle escaped me.  I moved around the bar and over, reaching way up to give Alpha a hug.  He shivered in delight.  He likes it when I touch him.

“Don’t mind the big bad human, Alpha.  He’s just grumpy on account of being away so long.”

“And there’s another goddamn thing for the list.  Why the hell are you hugging him instead of me?”  Dal had his dark look on.

I smiled happily and moved to reach around him.  His arms held me fast. 

“Glad you’re back, love.  Missed you something awful.”

He buried his face in my dark hair.  “Me too.  Show you how much later.”

I broke away and stepped back.  “Mission successful?”

Dal hurrumphed.  “Yeah, except for that little mishap that nearly sent the ship into the Underworld.  A wise-ass ship computer and a newbie clone.”  He shook his head.  “Bad combination.”

I gave a reassuring smile to Alpha.  Ever since Alpha had left the Hive and joined himself at the hip to Dal, his mentor, things had been a little different around the Blue Angel.  It’s great having a true friend and all, but Alpha was having a little trouble adapting to the real world.  He expected to be included in all of Dal’s adventures.  For instance, we got a little surprised one night in the bedroom.  Dal had to make fast rules about that.

Mostly, I adore Alpha.  He’s built like a Greek god, sweet as a lover to me, and watches Dal’s back all the time. 

“Brews all around?”

“Yeah, baby.  We’ll be over here.”  Dal swung himself into a booth.  He looked weary and thirsty.

I went back to the bar and pulled two pints.  Things were quiet this morning.  My lonely suitor from Genera Minor was leaving, and the lunch crowd wouldn’t be in for another hour.

I brought over the tankards and put them down on Dal’s table.

“How’s the palate progressing?”  I asked Alpha.

Alpha’s mouth opened, the door of the bar exploded, then something landed with a wet splat in the middle of the room.

“Down!” yelled Dal.  He grabbed my arm and threw me to the floor, then landed on top of me.  Damn, but he’s heavy.  Alpha crouched over both of us, thrower out looking for a target.

The fall had taken my breath, and I labored for air.  By the time I could look up, Dal was on his feet.  Alpha was standing over the body of a very dead alien.  And all the customers had scadoodled out the back door.

“Anybody we know?” My voice was squeaky.

Dal shook his head.  He strode to the smoking hole where the doors used to be and peered out.

“Gone.”

“Assassin?”

“Looks like it.  Poor moke had no weapon drawn.”

“But why did they leave the body behind, Dal?  Why not just obliterate it?”  I was sitting on the floor now, with hands behind and my knees up in front of me.  I tried not to look at the heap on the floor.  I saw bits of green skin here the head should be.  Someone had put a hit on my Genera Minor suitor.

“I know that guy.  A Genera Minorian.  He tried to hit on me just before you came in.” 

Dal frowned.  His rugged face creased into furrows.  “Whoever blew him away wanted the body found.  That’s the only sane reason.”

Alpha nodded.  “It is a warning.  To whom, I do not know.  They wanted the body found and reported.”

I gulped.  “Well, I don’t want it found!  Not in the Angel.  We’ve got to get it out of here.”

Dal looked at Alpha.  “Garbage disposal.”

Alpha moved to pick it up.  The one hundred plus pounds were nothing for him.

I stood up without a helping hand, caught a heel on my skirt hem, and nearly went tush over teakettle.  Where are all the gentlemen when you need one? 

“Wait a minute – what about the garbage chute?  Can they trace which chute the body came down?  Use DNA or something?”

“They could,” Dal said.  “But they won’t.”

I was about to ask why, when Alpha opened his mouth.  “Incinerator.”

“Oh.”  I shivered.  There are some things it’s best not to know.

Alpha was heading over behind the bar to my kitchen when I stopped him.

“Shouldn’t we at least find out who he is?”

Dal shook his head.  “Nope.  Don’t want to know.  Not our business.”

“But-“

“Mel baby, leave it.  He wasn’t here, you didn’t see it.”

Alpha had his hand on the disposal door and was maneuvering the body into place.  There was another whoosh, a thump, and the figure disappeared.  I didn’t know whether to cry or scream.

So I whined.

“What the blasted hell am I going to do without front doors?”

“Call station maintenance.  You’ll get doors.  Take awhile to fabricate a set of those fancy swinging fake wood-“

“Real wood, dammit.”

“Real wood doors.”

Alpha was righting tables and chairs.  “Dal.  Melara.  I found something.”

We came over.  Alpha held out an upside down chair.  A small black box was attached under the seat.

“What do we have here?” Dal was looking at the box closely.

I tried to pull it off but it wouldn’t budge.

“Molecular bonded.  Only the person keyed to it can remove it without destroying the contents.”  He smiled.  “At least, that’s what they say.  Anything is possible if you know the right people.”

“Is it keyed to our dead friend or someone else?”  I gave the box a poke.

Dal shrugged.  “Who knows?  But if anyone can get that off in one piece its Shelley.”

Shelley St Croix.  The station’s resident know-all and fix-all.  She was smart, attractive and loved alien tech.  Another single woman running a business at the end of the galaxy.  I liked her.

“The real question is should we bother with it or toss the chair in the chute with its last occupant.”  Alpha shrugged and looked at me.

“You’re not throwing a real wood chair, my real wood chair, into the incinerator.”

Dal shrugged.  “Easy, babe.  I’m sure Shelley can get this off.”

“You go do that.  I’m calling maintenance about doors.”  I was not looking forward to cleaning dead alien from the wall.  A station cleanup crew would have been a lot easier but too many questions came with the crew. 

Dal and Alpha left with the chair for Shelley’s place.  After making the call to station maintenance, I went out back for a mop, bucket and assorted cleaning products that were guaranteed to clean like a miracle.  I hoped that included purple brains and green blood.  I was just finishing up when a pair of Genera Minorians walked through what was left of the doors.

“Sorry, fellas.  I’m temporally closed.  Door issues.”  I paid extra to have maintenance hustle their buns.  The new doors would be up by tomorrow

“I noticed,” said the better dressed of the two.  The other one had hired muscle written all over his meter and half body and the telltale bulge under his jacket.  He tried, but it’s hard to look tough to someone a head taller than you.

“We were supposed to meet a friend here.  A fellow Genera Minorian.  Perhaps you saw him?”

I smiled sweetly.  “No.  It’s been slow.  I would have noticed.”

“I’m sure you would have.”  Tough guy was giving me the evil eye treatment.  The boss held out a business card.  “I’m staying at the Imperium.  Call me if you see my friend.”

Like that would be happening, but I took the card.    I saw the boss was Arraks Jinkz, President of Targon Import and Export.  Targon Import and Export was a front, if ever I’d heard one. 

I held up the card.  “I’ll do that.”

“I’m sure we will be seeing each other again.”  He said it calmly but there was an edge to it.  He smiled showing a lot of teeth, then left with the thug covering his back.  I cursed under my breath.  What crap had that dead lothario gotten me into?  I picked up my mop and bucket.

“Afternoon, Mel.”

I snapped my head around and almost said ‘Oh shit,’ but managed a smile.  “Bozman, long time no see.  You’re caught me at a bad time.  Door issues.”

“Door issues.”  He said nodding.  Bozman was the station security chief.  “Now that is interesting.  Seems a body came down an incineration chute from this sector then you called maintenance needing new doors.”  He gazed at what was left of the doors.  “The old ones look like they were through a war.”

“A little rough and tumble got out of hand.  Happens in bars.” 

He was nodding again.  “You know the rules, Mel.  Rule Number One: Charlie gets a cut of all the action on the station.  Rule Number Two: no one harms Charlie’s people.  If grudges get settled the hard way, no problem.  Next time, throw the body down the green chute, that way it gets recycled.  Incinerating good organic matter is such a waste.”  He wagged a finger at me.  “Waste not, want not.”

He was heading out the door when he turned.  “You won’t forget Rule Number One.”

Great, just great.  Now I had Charlie expecting a slice, an alien crime boss to deal with and no clue what was going on other than an atomized dead guy.  All I could hope for was that Dal and Alpha came up with something about the box before this got real ugly.

It was late when Dal and Alpha came back to the bar.  As usually they were arguing.

“She was doing us a favor.  You don’t hit on people doing you a favor.”

“I did not hit her.  I simply said she had nice breasts.  Are they not nice?”

Dal saw me waiting for the answer to that one.

“Well, yes.  Shelley is a pretty woman.  For a red head.”

“Nice save, hero.” 

He gave me a winning smile then shook his head.  “Never thought I’d have to give the talk.  You know the one about the birds and the bees…there are definite voids in Alpha’s education.”

“Birds and the bees?”

“Another time, my friend.  Right now Mel needs to know about the box.”

Alpha shrugged.  “I shall study birds and bees to prepare for the talk.”

I giggled at that one.  Alpha could field strip just about any weapon.  Tear off someone’s arm and beat them with it.  His social skills needed work.  Around women he was a babe in the woods.

“The box?” I prompted.

“Well, that was a little disappointing.            “

Alpha made a movement that put us all alert.  We turned  to see Arraks and his pet thug, both with throwers leveled at us.

“Weapons on the floor, please.”

“Who’s this guy?”

“Arraks Jinkz.”  I did the introductions.  “Arraks paid me a visit while you were away.”  Arraks didn’t need to know he was dealing with a paladin.  He would have shot us on the spot.  Dal didn’t miss a beat.  He nodded at the intro. 

“The weapons.  Now!”

Dal had that hard look on his face.  He used two fingers to lift his thrower from his holster, then dropped it.  Alpha did the same.  Most people would think he was disarmed, but Dal was a deadly man with or without a weapon.  And the thrower wasn’t his only weapon.   

Arraks motioned with his own.  “Hands high gentlemen.  Where I can see them.” 

We all obeyed.

“And now: the Gallisto House internal code, please.”

Now that was impressive.  Gallisto House was one the largest of the interstellar trading companies.  They had their fingers in just about every pie.  If it made money, the Houses were there.  The Gallisto internal code was worth millions to their rivals.

“What the hell is that doing in my bar?”

“That code is the result of years of work and a great deal of money.  It is the only copy in existence.  My courier decided to go into business for himself.  He was to meet with a buyer on this station.  He paid the price for that transgression.”

“You killed him?”

“Me.  No.  Kolter here.  Yes.”

“Without knowing where the code was?”  That just sounded nuts.

Arraks gave his thug a cold look.  Kolter nervously squeezed the hilt of his thrower.  “My associate acted prematurely, to say the least.  But you found the code for me.  So all is forgiven.”  Kolter relaxed.

“The box.”  Arraks held out his hand.  “Have the woman bring it to me.”

I turned to Dal and winked as he dropped the box in my hand.  He gave his head the tiniest of nods.  I walked toward Arraks.  He put out his hand.  I fumbled the box and it flipped in the air.  For a moment all eyes were on the falling object, and a lot can happen in a moment.  For one, my stiff fingers formed into a cone - I rammed into Arraks’ throat with all my weight behind it.  For another, the throwing dart Dal had in the back of his collar spouted in Kolter’s left eye.

The thug’s head snapped back.  The thrower slipped from limp fingers.  Arraks writhed on the floor, clutching his crushed throat.  His green face was turning purple and his motions slowed.  Dal was at my side looking down as Arraks went limp.  Big bulging dead eyes looked at us. 

“Nice move, babe,” said Dal.

“No one messes with me in my place.”

“I’ll remember that.  Appears we have a cleanup in aisle three.”

“Incinerator?” Alpha asked.

“Green chute,” I said.  “I was warned about wasting organics.”  Alpha got to work.

“So.  Too bad we don’t have the code,” said Dal.  “Worth a lot to the right people.”

I turned back to the bar.  “I just may have the answer to that, as it happens.”

I reached into my E-Galaxy drawer and pulled out a card.  Then I moved to the nearest scanner to see if it had a little something extra written on it.

“Bingo!”  I said.

“The code?”

“Green guy was a crafty fellow.  Who would think to look on a dating card?  Must have known he was being followed.  He probably intended to come back to the bar and collect this when the coast was clear.”

“It’s not healthy to play fast and loose with the Houses.  They have long memories and longer arms.”  He tossed the card a few times as he thought.   “I’m thinking a reward of say one hundred and fifty thousand Gallisto credits would be in order for the safe return of their property.”

I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him hard.  “I like the way you think.  But make it a round two hundred.  No sense paying Charlie’s slice out of our shares.”