Alien Eyes (29 page)

“I guess the Izicho harass you, even now,” David said gently.

“I am to be retired. Those days be gone for me.”

“But the other night,” David said. “At the restaurant. You said you were afraid.”

She moved to one side. “It is a stir of the old fears. The cho killings. I do not want the oppression to be starting up.”

“What do you think should be done?”

The Elaki raised and lowered a fin. “These questions seem odd to me, David. Your own law does not tolerate the killing. Were there not years when the human societies put such criminals to the punishment death?”

“Yes,” David said.

“And do not some wish to go back to those penalties?”

My wife, for example. “Yes.”

“What about you, David Silver? Do you think such a thing is justified?”

“Honestly?”

“What other?”

“Some days, yes. Some days, no.” He was lying. He wanted to tell her what he really thought. “I think the killing has to stop somewhere. Somebody has to finally say enough.”

“Ah,” said Angel.

“What about you? What do you think? Should the cho killers be put to death?”

She slid across the floor to the table. “More of the coffee?”

“No.”

She went back to stand before the counter. “Yes, David, I think the cho killers should find death. But only by the law authorized and administered. I have seen these things get bad. Out of the whack? The authorized is the only way it can work. And even that will be abused in best systems.”

“Systems are frustrating when you know someone is guilty. Aren't they, Angel?”

“These questions have a personal feel, David. Meanings behind meanings. I feel I know you enough to ask what is behind this. To ask what it is that you really wish to know.”

David chewed his lip. “I need to talk to Weid. And to you. It might be better to do it down at the precinct.”

Angel Eyes went rigid beneath her scales. “Are you
arresting
me, David? What this be about?”

“It's about Elaki Izicho who come through the Elaki Documentation Center and wind up dead in Little Saigo.”

“Izicho? They are murdered, then? You think they are murdered by me?”

“I think you can help us in our investigation.”

“To be how? You think I have done these things, do you not? Hurt these Izicho.” She stayed very still, with none of the sideways skittering he saw in other Elaki. Her voice dropped, subdued. “If it would help you, my David, I will come to the headquarters. But I have the teaching today. Could it wait or … could we not talk here and now?”

She didn't know about Arnold, David thought.

“You heard from Stephen Arnold lately?”

“No,” Angel said. “I am hearing Stephen has left without notice, some family thing.”

“Is that usual? To leave and not arrange for someone to take over?”

“Most professor do cancel. But Arnold, no, he disapproves. Before when he go away quick, he make arrangements. This time he does not. But he is having the trouble time.”

“You took his classes before, didn't you? For the conference, when his daughter was killed?”

“Yes. So sad.”

“So you were one of the only people who knew he'd be gone.”

“Yes? I am best qualified. He most careful of the students and—”

The sound of tires on pavement was loud, followed by the groan of brakes, the grind of a van door sliding open. Angel moved across the kitchen to look out the window of the side door.

“Weid has come,” she said. “How odd, this.”

Angel unlocked the door. David set his coffee cup down too hard, and it wobbled sideways and fell. Coffee pooled onto the table.

“Sorry,” David said. “Is there a towel—”

Angel moved across the kitchen and opened a drawer. The back door opened, blocking David's view.

“They have find him.” An Elaki voice.

Angel turned swiftly and raised a fin. “Find who?”

The kitchen became very quiet. There were none of the appliance noises David was used to.

“Come in, Weid,” Angel said. “Detective Silver to meet.”

The back door closed.

FORTY-SEVEN

The noise of the deadbolt driving home broke the silence.

Weid, at last.

He was different. There was a tension about him. He had none of the aura of repressed formality David had become used to. His stillness reminded David of Angel—no nerve-wracking skittering from side to side.

David wondered if Mel would be coming along soon. They hadn't exactly arranged to meet.

“Weid some coffee?” Angel moved against the counter.

Weid moved toward the coffeepot and helped himself. His movements were confident, measured. He was thickly built for an Elaki, covered by raw patches. Like Angel, his midsection was scarred, the old wounds branching like shattered glass to his upper torso.

“You know the Detective Silver?”

Weid sipped coffee, then turned to David. Still silent. Measuring.

“Detective Silver is of the concern. There be Izicho who disappear after come through EDC.” Angel turned sideways between them. “They seem to be murdered. Bodies found … I am sorry, David, but where?”

“Little Saigo,” David said.

“Little Saigo,” Angel parroted.

Weid's hostility was palpable. He turned to Angel, fluid, graceful. “I come to say to you that the Stephen Arnold be dead.”

“Stephen?” Angel scooted backward, then raised up on her bottom fringe. “David, you did not know this?”

“He know,” Weid said. “Arnold killed cho killing.”

“Still another?” Angel said, sweeping toward David. “And you come to me for questions of Izicho?”

David stood up and edged toward the back door. “Let's go.”

“Is this an arrest?” Weid asked.

“No.” David unbolted the lock. “But it could be. If that's what it takes.”

“We will come, of course.”

“No,” Weid said.

“Weid, is not like bad old days.” Angel turned to David. “We be safe with you?”

Neither of them was afraid. David wasn't sure how he knew, but he knew.

“I have nothing to say to hot dog police.”

“No?” David said. “The hot dog police have questions for you.” He cocked his head sideways. “Tell me, Weid. Have you ever owned, or had in your possession, a Glock six semiautomatic pistol?”

David was not expecting the attack. The Elaki ran straight at him, hitting hard, smashing him into the door.

David tried to remember everything he knew about fighting Elaki, but it was like trying to wrestle an octopus. The Elaki's fins extruded into ridges like long, steely-strong fingers, latching on to David's temples, neck, the soft center of his throat. David fell, raking his back on the doorknob before he hit the floor.

The pressure on his throat increased and David's vision blurred. He grabbed handfuls of velvety Elaki fin, scales coming loose in his fingers. The pressure eased, but there were lights in his eyes. He couldn't breathe.

David brought his knees up and smashed them into the Elaki's midsection. Weid sagged, and David rolled sideways. He reached under his jacket, wrapping his fingers on the butt of the gun. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Angel leaning sideways, heard her talking urgently to Weid. He couldn't understand what she said, but she sounded frantic, angry.

David pulled himself up, palms flat on the kitchen table, then turned, gun ready, to face Weid.

Weid was not there.

David felt the smack against his back, but could not react before the Elaki wrapped itself around him and squeezed. David's fingers slid off the gun and it clattered on the floor.

His vision blacked and his knees buckled. He heard a drawer open and close, heard Angel calling to him, then to Weid. He opened his eyes, saw sunlight on her scales, beautiful, reflective, but no, his eyes were closed and he still saw the glint of light. Then he was falling sideways, against the counter, sliding to the floor.

He could breathe. He coughed, hurting his chest, his ribs. There was weight on his back, pinning him down. Something wet trickled onto his neck and pooled at the collar of his shirt. David put a hand to the back of his neck, then brought his fingers around.

He was expecting blood, bright red blood, but his hand was coated with runny yellow egg-yolk stickiness. Elaki blood. David squirmed sideways, and the weight eased.

Someone was crying. David wiped his hand on the side of his jacket, then rubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist. His vision blurred, then focused, and he grabbed the edge of the counter and pulled himself to his feet.

Angel was crying. Like a woman, like a child, like a human. She arched over the jerking body of Weid, whispering something that David could not catch.

She had used a bread knife, blade serrated up the side. Weid had been hacked and nearly sawed in half, in the midsection that housed the brain.

His eye prongs were knowing, he was still alive and aware. One of the prongs had twisted in the fight. His fins jerked, and his bottom fringe quivered and jumped, and yellow fluid flowed thick on the floor.

“He's not dead,” David said. His voice sounded odd.

“But soon,” Angel said softly.

David moved slowly, feet sliding. He touched her gently. She cringed, then twisted backward, leaning into him, and he pulled her up off the floor.

FORTY-EIGHT

One of the meds dropped his end of the stretcher, maneuvering Weid's body down the back stairs. Angel hissed.

“Come out of the kitchen.” David took her fin. “Come in here.”

Her movements were slow and jerky. She would not look at him.

“There will be jail term,” she said. “For killing him?”

“No. He would have killed me.” David rubbed a thick swelling on the back of his head. “You saved me.”

“He would kill you, yes,” Angel said. “But this other. Of the Izicho. It makes no sense to me, unless—”

“Unless what?”

“It is the old fears.” Angel focused on David's face. “That must explain. He reacts because of what has gone before.”

“I don't think so,” David said.

Angel slid across the floor until they were close enough to touch. “He is close to me. He is good, in his way. But in his life, the struggles. It makes for the reaction.”

“It makes for a killer. He killed those Izicho.”

“No.”

“I have witnesses, Angel.”

Angel stilled. “So. So, in truth, this is the fact.”

“Yes.”

“That would clear certain matters.”

“Such as?”

“He not be around when I think him to. You understand the cho killing has the Guardians to be most … most feared of becoming victim. And Weid, he say I am to be the logical target. But we argue. My thought is I am too much target. You understand? Too much backlash, too much publicity—I feel I am safe.”

David nodded.

“Weid not agree. And when he is to be here, watches me most careful. But there are times when he do not watch, he do not come, I not know why. Or where he be. And if I ask, he say things that ring the funny bells. And are other things I notice. Is hard explain.”

David's head hurt and he wanted to sit down. He moved to the stiff Victorian couch. It was like sitting on a rock.

“What about the gun?” David asked.

“I do not understand this question you ask of a gun.” Angel settled close beside him. “I do not have gun. I do not see Weid with gun. What is the significance? Are these Izicho killed by guns?”

“Did Weid have a dog?”

“A dog? No dog.”

The front door opened suddenly, and David winced and put a hand to the back of his neck. Mel walked into the living room, frowning. He looked at David and Angel, together on the couch.

“Professor.” He nodded politely at Angel before he turned to David. “Didn't I tell you to wait?”

David leaned up against a column of the front porch and closed his eyes. Mel folded his arms.

“Get your bell rung a little?”

David shrugged. “No concussion. Just a lump from where I hit the floor. Or the table, or something.”

“You have more accidents than your kids. Which is saying something.” Mel scratched his left armpit. “So, you believe her?”

“I don't know.”

“In itself an amazing feat of ignorance.” Mel looked over David's shoulder while he said it.

“She's had a hell of a time,” David said. He thought of Angel's pouchlings. He thought of Dahmi. “She's been through a lot.”

“Yeah. Which gives her a motive.”

“She killed him. She killed Weid to save my life.”

“It's a point.” Mel leaned up against a support post. “Whyn't you go home and get a shower, David. Couple hours sleep. Let me and Gumby give her a talk.”

David frowned.

“You ain't deserting her. You're doing your job.”

“Can you talk to her here?”

“Long as the captain don't mind,” Mel said. “You go on home. And shave. I'm sending everybody home tonight. Time we all got some sleep.”

David stepped off the porch.

“And when your head clears up,” Mel said, “I want you to think about something. Like don't it tie up just a little too neat for her? Weid did it. Weid's guilty. Weid's dead. Funny thing about dead people. They always taking the blame.”

“Prove it.”

Mel rubbed his eyebrow. “Yeah. That's a problem.”

“The DA has yet to bring an Elaki down in a human courtroom. We've never done better than those back-room deportation deals. We go to court, we got to be more than solid.”

“It's still way too sweet, David. She's got to be dirty. She and her sweetheart bodyguard have been offing these Izicho. You know it. I know it. You just better get used to it.”

“If she is guilty,” David said. “Can you blame her?”