Happigo Bloodeye

  Happigo Bloodeye

  By Muppy Heingardt

  Copyright 2013 Muppy Heingardt

  The large one was, categorically, nothing more than a giant fish. It was the other that presented the problem. She was about Happigo's height, but did not share Happigo's skinny frame. Fit, toned, and carnivorous in her advance, she gleamed with a headstrong radiance, defiant of obstacle and exploding with assertiveness. Her name was Lily, and of the two, she was the more dangerous.

  She was also Happigo's best friend.

  Better go with it, Happigo concluded.

  She waved a hand. "How's it going, alpha?"

  The woman narrowed her eyes. "I asked you to stop calling me that."

  "Then stop looking so macho. What do you want?"

  "What do you think? I just wasted half an hour sniffing you out. We need an investigator for a murder. What's going on?" she said. "You don't usually start drinking this early, Happigo."

  Happigo sighed, pushing her glass away. "Sorry, Lily. Seems I ended up with a lot of time for drinking. People stopped dancing with me." She touched the patch covering her right eye. "It's because of this. I didn't get very far tonight."

  "Yeah. Again. But money should cheer you up. I could have gone to someone else, but I think about my friends."

  Damn that Lily! A real police dog. Happigo had the choice, naturally, to turn down the case, but for what? Nobody wanted to dance with a Bloodeye, and if she argued with Lily she would be going against everything from her own alcoholic confusion to Lily's werewolf tenacity.

  Happigo tried getting up, but between the dim lights, the chatter of patrons and the music and dancing surrounding the stage, her senses became overloaded. She fell, and was caught by Officer Cadm, the fish man. His hands were cool and moist, and felt a little like wet rubber against Happigo's exposed arms.

  "Hell," Lily said, "Are you going to be able to do this?"

  Hoisting herself up with a barstool, she said, "Yes. I'm depressed more than drunk. My head will clear after I get changed."

  Lily frowned. "We really need to go now. Active scene. Or should we really find someone else?"

  Happigo looked down. Getting escorted around town in these clothes by a giant fish man and a werewolf would have people talking. She wondered if some place existed in the vast universe where it was the responsibility of the police to do investigations of crime scenes. Sure, it would be messy and irresponsible to allow policemen to play scientist, but Happigo had a strong desire to wake up somewhere wondering how she got there and what had happened the previous night. The prerequisite would be at least three more glasses of something toxic.

  Then again, money was nice for going to parties and buying the poisons necessary for a healthy mind.

  "Okay. I"m good. Wait...ow. Ow, my head..."

  "Geez. My fault for not calling you first, I guess. Do you need us to get you a coffee on the way?"

  Happigo braced herself against the solid wall of Cadm. "Yes. Fine. It's fine. Let's go."

  ***

  They entered the gates of a large mansion. Happigo wanted to count the windows, but the world seemed to stretch away into a chasm if she focused on anything. The windows were tinted black, inset on grey stone, enhancing the dizzying threat that she would plummet through a dark oblivion.

  Something about the mansion reminded her of a church, but not the kind where people meet for sermon and prayer. This looked like it would be more clandestine, and with red stains on stone slabs. And here came Happigo, the virgin sacrifice in the naked flesh, sedated and escorted to the altar.

  What a dark thought. Virgin, indeed.

  "It's all that perfume you wear." Lily said.

  Happigo looked up, a little too quickly to prevent her brain sloshing around like jelly. "Huh?"

  "Smelled it all around your apartment." Lily smiled in satisfaction. "I could have followed the scent right to you, but as soon as I saw the Indigo Club, I knew I'd find you there. Any luck with the boys tonight?"

  "I was cop-blocked. You owe me one. Five, if we're counting. And I owe Cadm for catching me. Again."

  Cadm blinked. "Think nothing of it, Ms. Bloodeye. I wouldn't let a drunk hit herself on a bar stool.."

  Happigo laughed weakly.

  Lily, acting with more caution than usual, asked once more, "Sure your head is clear enough for this?"

  "How bad is it?" Happigo asked.

  "Quite bad, if we are to give degree to murder." Cadm's voice croaked thunderously, like a giant frog. Perhaps exactly like. Aquatep were more fish than 'phibian, but they were bulky and top-heavy, with large necks that made it difficult to tell where the chest ended and the head began. They had skinny legs. There was no such thing as an overweight fish man, and every inch of their scaly gams bulged with muscle. Happigo secretly considered them disgusting, and was thankful they were civilized enough to wear pants.

  Lily said, "I'm afraid there isn't much room for levity. Benton Harles was killed during a party hosted by Dame Venetti. Gruesome. Cut across the neck, very deep. Deeper than fangs. A weapon of some sort, or perhaps a claw. This could be difficult. The guests..."

  "Lots of blood?" Happigo interrupted with a touch of apprehension. She didn't like blood. It wasn't that she had a problem stomaching a disturbing scene. Rather, Happigo's family history ran red, to a degree that might even be frightening to a vampire. She gently pressed her fingertips to the eyepatch guarding her peculiar inheritence.

  "We wouldn't have gone straight for you otherwise. It's like a vampire's bathtub in there."

  "You said you came to me because I'm your friend."

  Lily smiled. "Good! Sobering up already. Get those investigative gears turning."

  Happigo muttered something hateful. It was true, however, that the sight of blood would be enough to revitalize her senses. It was like her superpower, except the cost was extreme.

  "A word of warning," Lily added as they stepped onto the stoop and through one of the large, double doors. "Dame Venetti is a vampire."

  Happigo shrugged indifferently. "I don't have a problem with vampires. They're honest about things like blood. It's how they dress that bothers me."

  As they passed from the entrance hall into an antechamber leading to the dining room, Happigo's fears were realized. Red everywhere, as suited vampire tastes. Red satin, red silk, decorations in red, and paintings of great, bloody, battles in the night. All the furniture and all the walls had deep red dyes soaked into the wood. Everything, everything, everything had a touch of red.

  In the paintings, misfit crews of incredibly well-dressed but slightly-tattered vampires stood valiant against waves of soldiers. Happigo might have been moved by the portrayal of raw emotion, but it was distracting to see the vampires clutching the entrails of their victims as they fought.

  In the dining room, Cadm croaked, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is Ms. Happigo Bloodeye. She is conducting a criminal investigation of this unfortunate event. Please assist as much as possible with her inquiry."

  Happigo observed the guests seated around a giant table. They stared back. They all knew her from newspapers. Her hair was long and red, and looked a mess at the moment, but it distinguished her from other investigators almost as much as the eye patch, which drew considerably more attention. Her name flitted across newspaper headlines, along with blown-up, unflattering photos. Just like at the clubs, family history and personal fame choked off any chance of a good first impression. All the liquor wasn't helping. Her stumbling, bad posture, and alcoholic grimace were certainly making some impression.

  The hostess did not show even a glimmer of disapproval. Dame Venetti radiated majesty from her tiny, comma
nding eyes to her relaxed poise. Vampire by birth, she exhibited venemous veneer cultured in characteristic class. With a hint of mirth in her smile, she offered welcome. "A pleasure to have you, Ms. Bloodeye. Consider me at your service for the duration of this unpleasant affair."

  The vampire had a fanged smile and the voice of a dark seductress. She did not mean to be threatening. Vampires always looked like they were up to no good when they smiled.

  "Thank you, Dame Venetti."

  Corund, a wealthy land owner and head of a mining company sat to Venetti's left. Happigo knew him from rumors and newspaper columns. He spoke hoarsely, his voice dried by age. "They honor us by bringing, mmn, the best."

  Bandaged head-to-toe, he seemed the victim of some savage misfortune, but the bandages reflected realized fortune from the way the silken cloth climbed in uncreased circles, snaking to his collar. Emeralds adorned the cape hanging by a dragon-clawed, gold chain upon the man's impassive shoulders. He had several rings of ruby, diamond, and other precious stones, and his cane was topped with a pearl colored like pure milk. In his home, the man would be a pharaoh. Anywhere else, assumption placed him as a guest of honor, being of the ancient blood of nobles, risen as a mummified machination. The old gentleman had let slip once, and only once, his title, lost to history, of Great King Corund. He predated writing. Rumors went that before the shifting of the tides that sank the country of Kapoda, he sat atop a golden throne, commanding armies and setting fire to entire tribes and nations as he sought to rule a continent, and possibly more. No one would ever know, because he did not share his history. He was a leftover king, and believed that the luxuries of modern life were more than any ancient king had ever enjoyed.

  Next to him were two werewolf siblings: Honduras and Talatia Whitetail. They were a young professional duo, known in the fashion business for their furs. Happigo had one in a closet somewhere and felt it had been worth the money.

  Honduras was a strong man, if not in character and manners, then certainly in size and muscle. He exhibited animalistic instinct, shifting restlessly in his chair while his sister whispered admonishments. His thick arms threatened to tear free of their cloth prison with every movement, and he was as out of place as a tea kettle in a trumpet, unsuited to social events. His sister, much more humbled in her composure, was deceptively beautiful. She had hunting eyes, and seemed nervous. At one point, she smacked her brother lightly on the back of the neck, warning him not to neglect etiquette. Happigo immediately realized that Talatia was covering an introverted nature. She sat with dignity and demure restraint, but even in human form she looked like she was trying to flatten her ears.

  There was an ominously empty seat at the other end of the table, where Benton Harles, also a werewolf, had been sitting. Lily noted, in somewhat poor taste, "Mr. Harles is not present, because he is busy being a corpse upstairs in the master bedroom."

  "The master bedroom?" Happigo asked.

  "Weird, right? But that's where he is. The 'why' is anyone's guess. So who killed him?"

  The introductions continued. Straight across from Honduras, Nist Hatterly--the jittery maid that Venetti had invited to join everyone for dinner, and the sole human being present--sat quietly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The seat next to her was unoccupied. Closing the ring of guests, in the seat just to the right of Dame Venetti, her chef and butler, Golucki Ponent, sat in patience and silence. He was an obvious simpleton, but not because he exuded any amount of simplicity. All his kind were simpletons. They were also incredibly useful, and sometimes brilliant, in a simpleton way, and Happigo breathed a sigh of relief that fortune had seen fit to grace her with the presence of a homonculus.

  Happigo examined the group, then shut her eyes and touched her forehead, uncertain whether she found all this annoying, or couldn't handle all the information amidst feeling tipsy. "I would like to get an idea of how the night went, and who these fine people are, how they know each other, etcetera. I'd like to use your parlor to interview everyone individually, if the Dame would concede?"

  Officer Cadm interjected. "Shouldn't you see the crime scene first, Ms. Bloodeye?"

  "Ah~" began Lily, but Happigo silenced her with a wave.

  "That's the last thing I want to do. And the last thing you want me to do. Once I see a scene like that, I won't have the strength to form my questions properly."

  Since it was no place for an officer to question an investigator, and since Happigo's special talents were well known, Cadm withdrew. For any other investigator, it would be unheard of to let a corpse sit at the scene. With Happigo Bloodeye taking the case, the scene would have to be cold, removed, and cleaned before any important evidence was at risk of going unnoticed.

  Dame Venetti gave a courteous smile, dashed with intrigue. Happigo did not begrudge a vampire her enigmatic and alluring nature. "I'll show you to the parlor."

  After Lily, Happigo, and Venetti left the room, everyone grew silent. The guests eyed the fish-man officer, some out of apprehension, and others because Cadm was impossibly unwavering. The aquatep race were difficult to interact with. At times they were stone silent. Then they would be embarrassingly straightforward. It was awkward. Cadm could stand in his spot for days and never feel the need to avoid eye contact, and the aquatep rarely blinked.

  Honduras Whitetail decided it was too quiet, and asked, "Do all detectives dress like that?"

  "We asked her to come on short notice," Cadm said.

  There was a long silence before Corund ventured an inquiry.

  "What was she doing?"