Nayxana Alien Woman

by Cotterell, Genesis

  Janux swallowed, then read out her report. In her comments field she’d mentioned the fact that a fish-van had been seen by two of the neighbours she’d interviewed.

  “What colour was the van, Janux?” Curtis asked. “You see, I think we’d better get onto that one. Who knows, it could give us our killer.”

  Janux shivered. She hadn’t thought to ask that question of the neighbours. The very fact they’d seen a vehicle with the words FANCY FISH, BUY IT FROM ME, HOME DELIVERY had given her such a feeling of excitement she’d completely forgotten to ask about its colour. “I’m sorry, Curtis, the neighbours didn’t tell me what colour the van was.”

  “I see. Well, at least we have the words that were on the van. I’m going to look in the local business directory and you can try the Yellow Pages. But before we do that, tell me, Janux, what conclusions have you drawn from your interviews and observations?”

  Janux cleared her throat. “I think whoever owns the van probably used it to kidnap Nayxana while she was out buying morning tea for Uxxl and herself. Whoever it was most likely had someone to help him hold her down. Then they drove back to her place with the intention of murdering her there and framing someone else.”

  “And you think they wanted to frame Oskin?” Curtis said.

  “No, it seems it might have been Baxy Hurzy. But he was on the mainland that day, so he rang Oskin and told him to get round there since Nayxana needed his help. When Oskin got there she was already dead and the killer or killers had long gone. Oskin must have bent over Nayxana and touched her to see if she was alive and his hands became bloodied. Then the H-Police arrived, after a phone call from the killers.”

  “Well done, Janux. You know, I don’t recall any fishmongers on Muritai doing home deliveries. What about you? You’ve lived here a lot longer than me.”

  “No, sir, but we can go down to the waterfront and see. Maybe it’s a new business.”

  “Yes, but first we’ll go through these.”

  Curtis handed Janux the Yellow Pages and she began to thumb through it, while he directed his attention to the Business Directory.

  “I think I have something here,” Janux said. “S. Frurster, Fishmonger, Wharf-end, Muritai Island.”

  “That old weasel again,” Curtis said, puckering his face. “I think we owe him a little visit, Trainee, first thing in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir, and if I may say so, I think this may be the lead we need.”

  “C’mon then, we’d better get some sleep.”

  Curtis took Janux by the hand and knew he could never be parted from his beautiful trainee.

  “Can’t you tell me you love me occasionally?” she said.

  Curtis stopped in his tracks. “Haven’t I done that lately?”

  “No, and you know I’d love to hear it sometimes. After all, we are lovers, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, but…, I thought you’d already know I loved you.”

  “Women like to hear it too. We need that,” she said, pulling off her clothes.

  CHAPTER 23

  As she lay beside Curtis, who was now deeply asleep, Janux began thinking about Spryz Frurster’s ancestors. She retrieved her notebook from under the bed and turned on her bed-lamp.

  She’d already discovered that Spryz Frurster 1st and Anxla had produced several children, the first a baby girl they named Lyxl. When Lyxl was nineteen she’d married Max Yanly’s second son, Yamax, in 1926. The following year, Lyxl and Yamax had a baby girl, and then a boy in 1928. Their daughter had the telepathy gene, passed down from her mother, while the boy was a carrier and could pass it on to any female children he might father. Queen Ryxina had thought of everything, Janux smiled to herself. She’d made sure that no matter what gender their children were, the gene would never be lost.

  However it happened that tragically, the girl child had been killed when she was only three after wandering out onto the road and being struck by a horse and carriage. The boy married a Human in 1947 and they’d had a baby girl the following year, called Anxla after her great-grandmother. This Anxla married a Human male in 1974, and two years later she and her husband produced a baby girl they named Lanax, which Janux worked out was an anagram of Anxla.

  When Lanax turned twenty she’d joined the closed community of the Poor Clare sisters in Galway, Ireland. She’d lived there as a nun for the past eighteen years.

  Janux put her notebook down and turned off the bed-lamp. Curtis was breathing noisily, his right arm flung out across her side of the bed. Tomorrow was going to be a big day and she’d better get some sleep.

  In the morning they sat in the cold kitchen and ate rolled oats covered in cream and brown sugar. Winter was on its way. They discussed at length the best way to approach Spryz and begin questioning him about his whereabouts on May 13th. They both knew how obnoxious the man could be and how he would probably resist their questions.

  “I want you to take special note of our surroundings,” Curtis said. “He’s obviously come back here from Australia and set up business. If you see the van I want you to take photos of it while I question him. Okay?”

  “Yep, no problems at all, boss. Do you also want me to take notes?”

  “I’d prefer you to just take photos while I distract him. I have a small voice-activated recorder which will be in my jacket pocket. So any time either he or I say anything, it will be recording. You can have a day off taking notes. You’ve been doing very well. I’m proud of you.”

  Janux felt a sense of relief. Curtis had looked so serious lately, she wasn’t confident he thought she was pulling her weight. It was important to her that his monthly reports to the Ryxin PI Bureau were positive. This wasn’t just about her career – she wanted Curtis’s love and approval even more than she cared to admit.

  When they reached the wharf, Curtis parked the car and they made their way down towards the trading area. The fish-market itself was contained in a large shed, where fish were brought in from the fishing boats and sorted for sale to shops and restaurants on both the island and the mainland. Buyers came here to get the fresh catch each day. They passed a shop called Le Poissonnerie, owned by a well-known Frenchman. Then right at the end of the wharf was a small shack with the words S. Frurster, Fishmonger, painted in yellow on the window, together with a picture of a large snapper.

  Janux stood back from the shop frontage and took a photo as instructed. Then they both entered the shop. The tinkling of a bell sounded and the smell of fish wafted through from the back of the shop as Spryz Frurster himself came through to the counter.

  When he saw Curtis his lip curled. “To what do I owe this blight on my new premises?”

  Janux noted the tattoo of a thick chain around his neck and shiny gold studs in his ears.

  “Good morning, Mr Frurster,” Curtis said levelly. “Can you spare us a few minutes of your time, sir?”

  “And what do yuh want this time?” He glared at Curtis.

  “An account of your whereabouts on 13th May,” Curtis replied. “The day a woman was murdered in Seal Bay. I’m investigating it, you see.”

  “And I’m running a shop, man. Where do yuh think I was? Right here on the wharf, selling me fish like usual.”

  Curtis hesitated. “Do you have a van, Mr Frurster? So you can deliver your fish to people in the community?”

  Spryz’s face glowered. His shaved head glistened with sweat. “A van, you say? I’m not made of money, you halfwit. I’ve only just set up me business by scratching together a few pennies.”

  Curtis’s jaw set. “Well, do you know anyone around here who does home deliveries in a van?”

  Spryz’s face grew red with suffused anger. “You and your bloody van questions make me sick. Why don’t you go and ask someone else, you lamebrain?”

  Curtis looked at Janux and began to turn away from the counter.

  “Do you ever hear from Lanax?” Janux said innocently while Curtis stood near the door.

  The colour drained from Spryz’s face as he stood s
taring at Janux.

  “I’m sorry,” Janux said. “I hope I haven’t upset you.”

  “She lives in Ireland now. How did you know about her?”

  Janux was surprised at the change that had come over him. He now seemed very docile. “I’ve been doing some family research,” she said.

  “She was my one true love. There’s never been anyone else. Then her father told her how we were related. Then she went away to join the Poor Clares. I’ve never seen her since that day.”

  “I’m sorry,” Janux said, seeing how her words had wounded him. “I’d better be going. Thanks for your help, Mr Frurster.”

  “No, wait. There’s someone with a van who goes out delivering sometimes. He calls himself FANCY FISH – down the other end of the wharf.”

  After a few minutes of brisk walking, Curtis and Janux saw a blue van pull out from an old shed at the end of the wharf and drive past them. On the side of both the shed and van were the words, FANCY FISH, BUY IT FROM ME, HOME DELIVERY and a phone number. Janux took several photographs of the van before it disappeared from sight and then took some of the shed. As Anaru Tamati had said, the van’s windows were tinted. After peering in through a side window of the shed, they decided it was a one-man business as there was no one within the empty silence of the dark interior.

  Janux was relieved to have no report to make out after their sojourn to the wharf. But there was to be no relaxation. She was about to go to her room and continue her laptop research when Curtis called her into his study.

  “Janux, I need you to find out the identity of the person who owns that van. Also, enquire as to any orders delivered on 13th May.”

  “Yes, sir, I’ll get onto that right away.”

  “I’ll be contacting Ixola and giving her a job to do too. I believe The Controller likes to frequent the Xlesky Street house. Ixola may be able to contact one of her old acquaintances there and find out more about him and where he’s staying on the island.”

  “I agree, sir. He’s the one pushing other people’s buttons and making the bullets for them to fire.”

  “True, Trainee Assistant. Oh, and write me a report on your findings and have copies of the photographs printed out to go with it. Off you go now.”

  Janux sighed as she went to her room and opened up her laptop. Curtis seemed so unfeeling at times and she made up her mind that once she became an Assistant PI she’d educate him on how to treat her – but could she wait that long?

  Curtis ruminated on what Uxxl had told Janux concerning the woman who helped lure her into being kidnapped. He decided to phone Uxxl and ask if he could recall anything else Nayxana had said about her kidnappers.

  “She thought the woman was someone she’d been to school with,” Uxxl said. “I don’t know if I told your girl about that.”

  “No name or description?” Curtis hoped that he might remember more, or even have information he hadn’t told them at the time but later wished he had.

  “I’m afraid not, but let me know if I can help in any way.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Baxy assisted Sly with his shower and noticed that the thin, wasted look of his master’s body was getting worse. The blood-sickness had taken its toll on him yet hadn’t reached its expected peak, after which Sly’s health would start to gradually return. Only when his own blood type had completely regained full strength in his body would he be totally fine again.

  “I’m expecting some results from you soon, boy. The Controller wants to get back to Ireland.” Sly’s voice was weak and toneless as he sat in his bedroom chair while Baxy helped him to dress in a clean set of clothes. “Have you located your target yet, and made a plan?”

  “Not yet, master, but I’m working on it. I want her to return to the bach at Chamonix Beach first. Then I know she’ll be alone and I can go in and do the job.”

  “What about this Lodax filth? She’s what we call a perverted aberration. Not only did she keep the fact hidden from us, but she celebrated her secret with some of her so-called friends. I wonder how many of them will stand by her once they see your hunting knife, boy? Heh, heh. Show her your weapon and she’ll start pleading for mercy. Just remember – you’re in control, man.”

  Baxy was full of despair. He knew he could obey Sly and despatch Janux Lennan with relish but not Lodax. Lodax had shown him love – reminding him of his mother, who’d never stopped loving him despite his father treating him worse than the family dog.

  “Yes, master, I will take great pleasure in putting down Lodax first. My knife is all ready, master. All I have to do is go to her address and do the job. When she sees my blade I know she’ll try to persuade me to spare her life. Then the fun will begin, master. Every time I have a trapped animal like that I find it most enjoyable to see them squirm while I walk towards them, ready to finish the job. When they start singing for mercy, I strike.”

  “You’re a clever boy, Baxy. I trust you can make this one whimper like a baby. But remember to wield your knife quickly – then you can be sure they cannot summon any help.”

  “I will do as you wish, master. They will both bow down in fear.”

  At 10 o’clock Baxy was meeting Lodax at her home on the mainland for their usual weekly love-session. He always looked forward to these days because Lodax was the only woman he’d ever known who could make him feel strong and in control. He‘d do anything not to lose her.

  When he neared the turnoff out of Ngahere Road he was tempted to turn his silver jeep left into Tahatika Road and drive past Curtis McCoy’s place to see if the target was there on her own, which would mean he could knock on the door pretending to be a salesperson. McCoy always left the garage door up when he was out so that anyone could see his car wasn’t in there. Stupid half-blood. He was supposed to be a Private Investigator and she was his assistant, but Curtis McCoy was a weak, emotional namby-pamby who needed to be taught a lesson.

  Sly kept telling him that. That’s why Sly wanted him to rape and kill Janux, so as to get revenge on Curtis. Baxy didn’t actually hate Janux – in fact he found her very attractive. But he must obey his master’s orders or he’d be in big trouble. Sly would just keep on at him until he’d done the job.

  He turned right instead, and headed for Seal Bay and the ferry terminal. He’d need to hurry or he’d be late for his session with Lodax. He couldn’t wait to see her again. As for killing her – he’d already made up his mind he wasn’t going to do that. The master wasn’t going to win this time. But Baxy would make up for it by getting Janux, just as soon as he could lure her to her bach so she’d be alone and have no one to help her. The more he thought about it, the more the scenario appealed to him. Then he could come home and tell the master, who would reward him for what he’d done. He wanted Sly’s approval, but not for finishing off Lodax. She was special.

  When Baxy arrived at Lodax’s house, situated in a quiet suburban street just outside the city, she was there as usual, to open the door for him. Her auburn hair hung loosely around her shoulders and he saw she was wearing her skin-tight teeshirt, just the way he liked it. For a few minutes they stood in the hallway, kissing and greeting each other. He liked to stroke her body and feel the curves, which were all in the right places. But instead of heading straight for the bedroom as they usually did, Lodax steered him towards the lounge.

  “Darling, I’ve brought a friend of mine who wants to be my stand-in while I take my overseas holiday. Her name is Enya.”

  Baxy, distracted from his lustful thoughts, realised with annoyance he must wait a bit longer for the object of his desires. He looked at Enya, whose real name was Eurwyn Nepase, and immediately liked what he saw. She had the eyes of a cat, tawny and slanted, was taller than him and had glossy, black shoulder-length hair.

  “I must interview you first,” he growled, knowing it was just a formality. “Then you must sign a contract and we will discuss payments. You must come here in two hours, when I will be free. My current partner and I have some business to attend to first. O
ff you go now and come back at lunchtime. I’ll interview you then.”

  Eurwyn bowed, and left the room. She knew better than to complain at having to wait or even say anything at all. Lodax had already briefed her on the correct demeanour for someone who had not yet been interviewed, let alone signed up. But she was hopeful after noticing how his eyes had travelled up and down her body and taken on a look of entitlement. The plan was now underway.

  Janux had spent the morning making phone-calls and had found out that a Human called Dave Nabb owned FANCY FISH. He didn’t have a shop, but spent his days delivering fish to those who had phoned through their orders – restaurants, clubs or even people’s homes. No, he hadn’t taken any orders for 13th May, and nor had he delivered any fish that day. He’d been home sick with a virus and had allowed someone to hire his van to move their furniture since they were shifting house.

  “Can you tell me who that person was?” Janux asked Dave.

  “No, and I don’t think it’s any of your business, lady. What’s this all about anyway? What gives you the right to pry into my private business?”

  “A woman was killed that day, Mr Nabb, and your van was witnessed at her address on the same day. Naturally we want to rule out any involvement by whoever used your van to move house. After all, the finger could easily be pointed at you, sir. Can anyone vouch for you being at home that day?”

  “Now look here, I don’t like the tone of your voice. If you’re not involved with the H-police you’d better butt out. I heard a Ryxin woman died that day, but that’s nothing to do with me. You should be looking at why she was killed. I’ve heard some of these women bring it on themselves. They’re well known to be troublemakers – which you should know if you’re worth your weight in the PI business.”

  Janux seethed at the stereotypical Ryxin-phobia spouting from this man’s mouth. “I’m working for the Ryxin Justice Department, sir. We will find whoever did this, make no mistake about that.”

  Then she slammed down the phone, went into Curtis’s study and found the whisky bottle. It was a quarter full and she poured herself a half-glass and began to drink it neat. She could feel the golden liquid burning its way through her. Soon tears were coursing down her cheeks. Tears of sorrow and rage at the way some people thought of and treated her people.