“Family unit? You wives are a bunch of sheep,” Frances spat. “Nicely doing what you’re told when you're told by that fat lump of a man.”
“I concentrated on my children, on raising them to be nice people,” Maya said. “We had a good life and then you came along and made our lives miserable.”
“Blame his father for that,” Frances pointed at William. “He caught us skimming and bankrupted my firm. I had to marry that bloated lump to preserve my lifestyle.”
“And you were going to tell Koosa just what you thought of him,” I said, finally getting a word in. “Before you left him to die trapped in the dark. That’s why you sat at that table with the dead crew. But then I climbed out of the air vent and you must have hidden outside the kitchen until I opened the door and let everyone out.”
“The baggage compartment is between here and the elevators,” Marshal Harry pointed out. “You realised you’d have to wait before launching the lifepod, so you hid your comfortable shoes in a bedroom and when Koosa crawled out, you trotted in behind us and joined the group. But we would have heard you coming in those five-inch heels, so you carried them.”
“Supposition. Won’t stand up in court,” Frances spat. Little globs of phlegm hit the marshal’s uniform.
“True, but I reckon that nut you beat Mr Koosa to death with has your fingerprints all over it.”
There was a nasty moment when Frances pulled a vegetable knife from her pocket and grabbed the marshal.
“Stay back, bug,” she said, “or I slit your little friend’s throat.”
“Damn,” I said. “I wish I had my guns.”
“Everyone, back away slowly,” Frances ordered. “The marshal and I are going to the bridge to make a call. I’m going to be picked up and then the rest of you can go down with the ship, as planned.”
“Even after you took our money in that scam,” Maya said. “Why did you kill Fey? You’re not in the will. The money goes to our children.”
“That lump was the richest man in this star system at one time,” Frances said. “And he just frittered the money away on these charity missions. I’ll put myself on the board of trustees for the money and control it properly.”
“He believed people were more important than money,” Maya said.
“See?” Frances answered. “He didn’t deserve that money. People aren’t important.”
“Can everyone back up?” Marshal Harry asked. “If we all stay calm, this doesn’t have to end badly.”
I didn’t think Marshal Harry included me in that statement, so I was edging into strike range when Frances dragged the marshal backwards. I heard the engines die and wondered how close we were to the planet.
“I’m watching you, bug,” she said. “Don’t try anything.”
She was watching me, which was a mistake. Maya swung with the red shoes and connected across the top of Frances’s head. She dropped like a sack of flour.
“Erm, thank you,” Marshal Harry said to Maya. “I want you to know I appreciate what you did there. I just wish you’d waited until she made the call to her partner.”
“Don’t mention it, and sorry, I didn’t think about her partner.” Maya kicked the unconscious woman and raised her arm for another swing. The marshal grabbed her around the waist and held her back.
“She’s a monster, but you’re not. Come on, let’s find something to tie her wrists with.”
Leebris ran in. He had an impressive turn of speed for a mammal that size.
“We got problemsh!” he announced. “We burned all the fuel but the ship’s shtill falling towards Shmudsh.”
“But why?” William asked.
“Not enough fuel,” Leebris shrugged. “And Port Authority ish refushing to talk to ush because we’re not registered crew. Emgeenie’sh hoping it will talk to the marshal?”
9.
The Art of Missing the Ground
Marshal Harry dragged Maya with her to the control room. Not sure why the marshal thought her prisoner was safer with William, but I guess she had to leave someone to watch Frances.
Emgeenie slumped in his chair, head in his hands. I assumed that wasn’t good.
“What happened?” I asked. The marshal and Maya dropped into empty chairs, leaving Leebris to stand. I reared my front half and looked over the navigation console. Lights flickered and codes marched across screens. Clear as mud to me.
“We burned all the fuel,” Emgeenie said. “But it wasn’t enough to halt our fall to Smuds. We’ll still hit atmosphere in three days.”
“Good try though, people,” Doeskip said.
“But that’s plenty of time for Port Authority to send a tug up,” Marshal Harry said.
“Port Authority is refusing to speak to us because we’re not registered ship officers or owners.”
“Did you ask who the registered owner is?”
“Yes, Port Authority replied to that one.”
“Who is it?”
“Big Bill Faa.”
“Ah...” Marshal Harry said. “It’s been one of those days. Okay, put me through to this Port Authority.”
Emgeenie pressed a button. “Okay, speak... now.”
“Hello, sir. I am Marshal Harry Ward, badge number three three hundred and twelve. You can contact the Marshal’s HQ. They will confirm my identity—”
“Do you have a court order putting you in charge of that ship?” a smooth artificial voice said.
“No, sir, I do not.”
“Then it would be a waste of my time reaching out to the Marshal’s office. There is nothing I can do. I cannot change the protocols.”
“Look, Port Authority,” the Doeskip suddenly broke in. “I’ve been one of your regulars for over ninety years. Surely there’s something you can do for an old acquaintance in trouble?”
In the silence, the mammals held their breath. Not a long-term survival instinct, in my opinion. After a long moment, Port Authority said: “You’re right, Doeskip, you’ve been a well-behaved ship for many years, and there is one thing I can do for you.”
“What’s that?” Doeskip asked.
“I can place a small memorial plaque in your usual berth,” Port Authority intoned. “You will be remembered.”
“Ah...” the Doeskip said, “that is comforting.”
“But, sir,” Marshal Harry said, “we’ll die if you don’t help us.”
“Ah, I have studied that problem,” Port Authority admitted. “And I have some good news.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I believe I can refund the face value of your tickets to your next of kin and then reclaim the cost from our insurers.”
“That’s... very thoughtful of you, sir.”
“I thought so,” Port Authority agreed.
I don’t have it in me to be as polite as Marshal Harry.
“Listen, you overgrown silicon chip. You can put out an all-ships alert,” I said. I’d served on a few ships; I knew the code. “Tell them it’s Chunglie and if they want the money I owe them, they must rescue us.”
“You owe money to a lot of people around here?” Emgeenie asked.
“A couple,” was all I’d admit to. “And they are ship captains, so—”
Port Authority interrupted: “There is no protocol against passing on a last request, so I did. You have one interested party. Shall I connect you?”
“Who is it?” I asked. I’ve known people attack a ship in this much trouble.
“Captain Budino.”
I dropped to the floor. “Oh, shit.”
“Good luck with that,” Leebris said as he bolted from the room.
“I’ve heard of Captain Budino,” Emgeenie said. “She has a reputation for being dangerous.”
“Who is Captain Budino, Chunglie? Why are you and Leebris afraid of her?” Marshal Harry asked.
I looked at the planet in the view screen. Huge and close and hard.
“I am not afraid of her. I simply respect her more than any other biped,” I said.
&nbs
p; “Respect? You?”
“Me. Look, you’re a law person, so I’ll put it this way: there are no pirates in the Steyrn star system. But Captain Budino is the queen of the pirates we don’t have.”
“I prefer the term ‘privateer’.” Captain Budino’s face filled the screen. She wore a low-cut white material, showing chest skin. Her lips were painted red and the little hairs around her eyes were long and black. Human females colour every hair showing, except nose hair.
“Trapped on a ship returning from Kamaree Yaparee, Chunglie. I suppose that means you’re broke again?”
“Yes m’m,” I said, too terrified to move a muscle. The captain scratched her ear.
“Maybe I can claim a salvage fee from the ship’s insurers,” she said.
“The insurers would be grateful, ma’am,” Marshal Harry said. “Since someone set this ship up to crash as part of an insurance scam, I’d assume the payments are up to date and the policy is large.”
Budino grinned.
“Now we’re talking,” she said. “Rescuing a marshal would damage my reputation, but rescuing the ship for salvage...I can make that work.”
With a clang, something attached to the hull. The ship lurched and I lost my balance. Budino laughed.
“Grappler arm is holding. We’ll haul you out to a stable orbit. Chunglie, I want the money you owe me.”
“As soon as I hit dirt, I’ll find a job, ma’am.”
“You better. I’m an impatient woman.”
“He won’t need to look for a job,” Marshal Harry said. “He’s got one as my deputy.”
“I what?”
“There’s never been a marshal stationed at Smuds space port,” Marshal Harry said. “They gave me a budget for an office and assistant.”
“But why me?”
“Because we’ve worked well together, and if you are as dangerous as I think you are, I’d rather you were working with me than against me.”
“Deputy Marshal...” I liked the sound of that. “So I’ll be your sidekick?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Alright, I’m in.”
THE END
Epilogue
Or that scene in the credits
The hologram of Chief Marshal Almond Guisseppe stared down at me in disbelief. I fought the urge to curl up into a ball. The office Marshal Harry had rented was so small, the chief marshal’s hologram was standing through the desk.
“Frances isn’t talking,” he reported to Marshal Harry. “And the casino has been a dead end for the forensic accountants. By the time you reached the ground, the whole moon had been declared bankrupt and bought by a holding company. We’ve no idea who’s in charge of the place now.”
The chief marshal stepped through the desk and looked directly down at me.
“This…. This…” He waved an arm in my direction. His uniform was black, with enough gold braid to strangle a Deloopian Mammoth.
“Arthropod,” Marshal Harry provided.
“I’m not having it about the place. Look, the only reason this whatever hasn’t done time is no one has caught him,” Chief Marshal Guisseppe said.
“He has been very useful to me, sir,” Marshal Harry said. “I wouldn’t be alive without him and that investigation you wanted, you know, the special one, wouldn’t be going ahead.”
The chief marshal glanced at me.
“Does he know about the special investigation?”
“No, sir, I haven’t told anyone about it,” Marshal Harry said. “But someone has talked, or I wouldn’t have been drugged and trapped on that ship.”
“Ah. Good point. I’ll investigate at my end. But look, that thing has been kicking around for a couple of hundred years and has no idea of right or wrong.”
“I believe he does, sir. It’s just a little different from ours, maybe.”
I did wonder why the marshal was on that ship. I have led an interesting life, and worked hard to keep it that way, but I was beginning to realise that Marshal Harry would keep my life interesting without any work from me.
“Okay, okay.” The chief marshal faced me. “Your job is to keep the detective marshal alive, no matter the circumstances. You understand me? She dies, you’re out of a job and the Marshal Service will be asking hard questions.”
“I agree to your terms,” I said. “So can I have my weapons returned to me?”
The chief marshal sighed. “They’re en route from the casino now. The staff told me they were glad to see the back of them, especially that cybernetic whatsit?”
“Trembling Bob?” I asked. “I hope they were taking care of it properly. That’s my favourite gun.”
“Yes, that one. They say it gives everyone the creeps.”
“What sort of weapon creeps people out?” Marshal Harry asked.
“It’s just a gun,” I said. “So what’s this special investigation?”
“And give this office a lick of paint,” the chief marshal ordered as the hologram faded. “We are above all a professional organisation, and should look it.”
The beginning.
Coming soon, the sequel…
For information on The Thrice Murdered Man, and the Full Mental Packet series, please sign up to my reader group at https://www.fullmentalpacket.com/
There are short murder mysteries in progress which will be made available through the newsletter for free.
* * *
[MVN1]
There are a couple of mentions of the STEYR systems later in the story (pages 79 and 123). Is this the same place?
[MVN2]
The female of Francis is generally Frances
[MVN3]
Or possibly ‘ate’
[MVN4]
?
[MVN5]
Is this correct or should it be ‘You lost me with / at twofer’?
It Was Murder Page 7
