“Sarge, how’s your dog?” asked Harrison the next morning after I arrived in the squad room.

“She’s holding up. It was touch and go, though. Just so you know, I’m short of sleep and cranky.” We hadn’t returned home until three in the morning.

Harrison smiled and joined the rest of the crew at work on their computers. I settled at my desk.

“Detective Sergeant,” Dino said, “I had a wonderful time last night. The games were interesting and the other players most helpful. I did see what you meant about competition and how the players talk. Occasionally it sounded a little mean but, in the end, I decided it was all positive.”

“That’s called smack talk. Players try to put the others off guard, so they would perhaps make a mistake. But you’re right, for the most part, it’s good natured. Which game did you enjoy the most?”

“Empires in Space interested me. It was nothing at all like how races actually behave, but it gave me more insight into how humans perceive empires. When are you having another game night? I learned so much about humans.”

Is that a good thing? I wondered. I would need to quiz Dino later about how empires really work. I also wanted to learn about Ambassador Takka’s response to game night, but that would have to wait. “I’ll let you know when we have another one. In the meantime, we have a murder to solve. Sit down next to me and take notes.”

Dino dutifully sat, as I admonished myself to better watch my language. Telling an ambassador to sit down probably wasn’t a wise move.

“Let’s start,” I announced. “You all have the results of the samples taken from the men’s washroom. Any comments?”

Harrison responded, “Absolutely everyone has been in there. Only a couple of female suspects, but they were the cleaners. So I think the data is useless.” Harrison grinned. He loved to use the word useless—and then prove the opposite.

In this case, I believed, usefulness would prove elusive.

“Anything else?” I said.

“Chrissy’s ball was confirmed as the murder weapon. In addition to Tristorian DNA, her bowling ball had a smear of another alien residue. However, the amount was so small the lab couldn’t tell much—other than it came from a Rheinon,” said Harrison.

Dino looked at Harrison. “Perhaps it was deposited when the ball dropped on the floor.”

The ambassador sounded a little defensive, so I said, “That’s certainly a possibility. Now, Jack, anything from the medical staff?”

“Not really. Yesterday’s medics insist no one left Revolutions between eight a.m. and the time the body was discovered. The report from the medical examiner listed the time of death at nine thirty.”

“So the murderer is one of the bowlers, officials, the staff of Revolutions, or even one of the few public bowlers that morning. We have a goodly number of suspects.” The large number didn’t sit well.

I checked my notes. “Has everyone read the canvassing reports?” Heads nodded. “Did anyone discover any interesting facts? I sure didn’t.” I received no response from anyone. I had hoped for a missing tidbit. “I agree the outside canvass was unlikely to produce results, especially since we now know the suspect pool.” The canvass had needed to be done but, at the moment, it appeared to be a complete waste of time. “Harrison, Brian, Jack, any updates on your projects?”

“No,” said Brian. “Although, I’m still studying the lab results looking for a pattern.”

Harrison said, “The lab results have revealed nothing to me, either. However, I think I have an idea of where Skitem-Carry will be today, so I’m going to be working on that.”

“Good. Jack?”

“I’ve sent everyone a short report on alien politics. I have much more to add. The report is only based on a small amount of research—public records—that I managed to fit in last night. I’m hoping to start quizzing various members of the other races as I have time.”

Jack paused, then continued, “One thing I noticed is how close Bremen and Rheine appear to be.”

“Close?” I said. His comment surprised me.

“In a lot of their dealings like business, finance, and such,” said Jack.

“Interesting,” I said. Most turned to gaze at Dino, but Dino avoided our glances. I would talk to him later. “Now it’s been arranged that bowling practice will continue today. Revolutions is allowed to open. I will be assigning duties shortly. For those of you not assigned a task, please stake out the bowling alley. Get friendly with the bowlers, staff, and other suspects.” That said, Dino caught my attention. “Ambassador, you have a comment?”

“Thank you, Detective Sergeant. I would like to mention that humans do not fully understand the other alien species. This is not a criticism. You must research and study individuals closely, not just the general species.”

“Ambassador, are you trying to tell us something specific?” asked Brian.

“Not at all. We all need to get over our misconceptions.”

I had no idea what he’d implied so I smiled. “Ambassador Rare, your comment is especially profound. An assistant of your caliber is an asset.” Dino beamed. I knew he had given us a huge clue, but I had no idea of exactly what. It was something else I would need to speak with him about later. My mental list of things to discuss was starting to get to the point where I needed to enter them all in my computer log.

A few moments were spent assigning duties. My staff typed into their computers and then started to leave.

“Ambassador, let’s get going,” I said.

Dino had an expectant look on his face.

“Yes?” I said. What does he want now?

“I may have some important information for you. If it is all right, I will join you later.”

What is Dino up to? “No problem. Don’t forget we have a banquet tonight at The Peak.”

“Yes, I am looking forward to this evening. I hear the view from the restaurant is exquisite.”

I smiled and waved Dino goodbye. “Go do your thing.” A quizzical look appeared on his face, but then he brightened. It appeared that he had correctly interpreted my comment.

On my way to the bowling alley, I decided on a plan of action—the time had arrived to focus on the bowlers. The competition revolved around them; so must any incident.

I glared at Twin Park as I passed the front desk. That should keep her in line for a while. I hoped the pass codes to the special locker rooms had been changed.

I decided my first stop would be a chat with Mike and Chrissy. Chrissy loved to gossip, and Mike’s observations were often spot on. I found Team Canada—at least Mike and Chrissy—practicing on lane sixty. “Why are you guys hiding here at the end?” I asked.

“Because this lane is off to the side, which usually means less distraction to the bowlers using it,” Mike said.

“I wanted to practice, ignoring everything around me,” he added. “There’ll be a lot of pressure when the competition starts.”

This was an astute observation on his part. Only on the first and last lanes were you by a wall on one side. “How’s Team Canada’s mood?” I asked.

Chrissy said, “Pretty good. We’re hopeful, but I’m having a hard time deciding how good

the alien teams are. They bowl so differently, and I don’t just mean the Tristorians.”

Oh, I missed bowling. But there was no getting around my job at the moment. “Have you guys noticed anything unusual lately? Other than the murder, of course. Anybody acting strangely?”

“A lot of the officials spend their time conferring with the teams from their own planet. I’m sure they’re discussing strategy. I wouldn’t have expected otherwise. But it’s the ambassadors that are annoying. They’re always coming along and trying to chat us up. I have no idea what they’re up to,” said Mike.

“Probably just trying to be friendly and understand humans. I wouldn’t worry.” I looked at Chrissy. “Have you noticed anything?”

For some reason she blushed. “Not really. I’ve had my mind on other things lately.” She brushed her bangs back. “Actually, something that surprised me was that the security guys—the alien security guys—spend a lot of time together, watching us and talking. Not that I could hear what they were saying.”

“Which guys?” I asked.

“It was the Rheinon guy and the one from Itla. I don’t remember their names.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Interesting, I thought. “Have a good practice. I have someone else I need to talk to.”

I wandered away, lost in thought. Mom broke my reverie relaying the news Maori still held her own, and that she would remain at the clinic to comfort her. Shortly thereafter, I received a call from Inspector Hayden.

“Update me on the murder.”

“The murderer has to be one of the bowlers, officials or staff that was at Revolutions that morning. Oh, there were a few public bowlers too. There’s nothing on the bowling ball used as the murder weapon to indicate who wielded it. Fingerprints are useless, except for humans, and not enough body cells were found on the ball to indicate anyone other than a Rheinon, but those could have adhered when the ball was dropped to the floor.”

“That doesn’t help narrow down the suspects,” said a glum Hayden.

“I agree. We have a pretty big pool of suspects. At least there’s no indication from the samples that any women were in the men’s washroom, other than the cleaners.”

“Still, it’s not looking good. We need to solve this murder. We’re getting pressure from the diplomatic community.”

“All of them?”

Thomas nodded.

“Pressure to do what?” I asked.

“To remove the RCMP from the investigation.”

I sighed. “I’ll let you know as soon as we find out anything. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sooner than you think,” said the commissioner. “Don’t forget the banquet tonight.”

“It’s on my list of things to do.” Like I had time to fit a formal meal in.

The work day had ended without my notice; we’d been so busy. The most interesting tidbit of the day came from the Itlans, saying a Bremen must have murdered the Tristorian. The Itlans had lost the last tournament to the Bremen and had a lot of resentment, at least according to the Bremen. Much like humans would do, the blame went round and round.

Perhaps it was my brain going round and round.

We had interviewed Barb-Cole, the captain of one of the three Bremen teams. She and I had become comfortable with each other during recent encounters, and she’d been at Revolutions practicing during the time of the murder.

“Tari, know Itlans erratic,” said Barb-Cole.

The terseness of Bremen speech gave me a headache, trying to figure out the missing words. Even though I loved puzzles, their language challenged my comprehension. I decided she probably meant, ‘Tari, you should know the Itlans behave erratically.’ So I responded, “How?”

“Clan-based, not like us.”

“Are you saying the Itlans are clan-based and you are not?” Contrary to my previous understanding, I needed to dig further.

“Both clan-based. Itlans different.”

“How?” I started sounding like a Bremen.

“Clan-based floating cities.”

Her comment triggered some facts. Bremen, a dry world, and Itla, a water planet with floating cities, would elicit confusion when it came to clans, I was sure. But what was she really saying? In my opinion, the universal translator needed an upgrade. I shouldn’t need to think so hard.

“They live in floating cities and you do not?” I asked.

Barb-Cole wiggled her head and said, “One clan city.”

“Each floating city only has citizens from one clan?”

“Yes.” Barb-Cole’s head bobbled forward.

So why did the Bremen consider the clan-based cities erratic? And why did the Itlans resent the Bremen winning the last tourney?

I had to find a way to ask those questions and get some relevant answers.

“Bremen clans mix?”

“Yes.”

“Not erratic.”

“Correct.”

“Why Itlans erratic?” I had to ask again. I hadn’t learned anything the first time.

“Unpredictable.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. But her statement didn’t make much sense. I thought they were conformists? “How unpredictable?” I asked.

“Very.”

I sighed. Wrong way to ask. How about, “Example.”

“Different Itlan class, different Itlan methods.”

I took a wild guess. “Different bowling styles?”

“Yes.”

Now I’m getting somewhere!

So Itlans had different bowling styles and thus were considered erratic by the Bremen. Some bowler I was, I hadn’t noticed their varied techniques.

As for why the Itlans resented the Bremen for winning the last tournament, I still had no idea. I had much to think about. And I needed to find ways to ask the appropriate questions.

* * * *

Tracking my mother down at the vet clinic, I asked, “How’s Maori?”

“The best the vet can say is that she’s holding her own. A much-repeated phrase.” Mom had circles under her eyes at least as large as my own. Her chin lowered to her chest.

“In case I forgot to tell you, I have a banquet tonight at The Peak. Momentarily, I’m going home to change, and then I’ll be out for most of the evening.” Inspector Hayden had insisted on formal dress.

“Oh, that’s right. I vaguely remember you telling me.” Her voice portrayed a lack of energy.

“Mom, you need to go home and eat and get some rest. Do you want me to pick you up?” Her responses worried me.

“No, no. I’ve got my car. You’re right, though. I’ll leave here shortly.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” I needed to spend time with her. Right now, personal time proved non-existent, so I had a problem.

* * * *

The first person I ran into at the restaurant turned out to be my partner. “Sarge, you’re looking most resplendent,” said Brian.

“Pretty sexy for an old broad. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Ma’am, you will always be young to me—or something like that.”

Brian’s good humor showed, although I had put him on the spot. We both laughed. The lighter moment relaxed us.

“Hopefully, the food will be good. I haven’t eaten all day,” I said. On cue, my stomach growled.

“Really?”

I knew what he implied. “Well, maybe a few snacks.” My eating habits were legendary. So far my metabolism had managed to burn off the calories.

Inspector Hayden had decided to host the RCMP banquet at The Peak located on the top of Burnaby Mountain. The magnificent view of Greater Vancouver included the Coast Mountains, Burrard Inlet, and the land from Burnaby to Vancouver. The restaurant had resided on the mountain for decades. A couple of fires had changed the décor, but it remained a breathtaking venue.

“Detective Sergeant Dominion, you made it to the banquet,” said Dino.

“Of course. I’d never miss eating.” I really had no choice but, on the other hand, I had another opportunity to observe possible suspects.

For no apparent reason, the Rheinon security chief, Neer E Noor, popped into my mind. Perhaps talking to Dino was the trigger.

“Ah yes,” said Dino. “By the way, your inspector is such a diplomat.”

Really? Why would Dino say that?

Dino must have recognized my quizzical expression because he added, “Inspector Hayden was involved in a meeting today with a few diplomats, myself included. We were discussing security, and if there was anything else the forces could possibly do. I am sure he will talk to you this evening about our conclusions.”

Somewhat uncomfortable after his statement, I turned to look for Inspector Hayden. I spotted him with Takka. Politely abandoning Dino, I walked in their direction.

“Ah, Tari, I believe you know Ambassador Takka,” said the inspector.

I nodded. “Yes, the ambassador made it to my game night yesterday.”

“You had a game night?” During a murder investigation? His thoughts were clear.

“We were at a break in our investigation. The lab results weren’t yet available.” I may have had a lapse in judgment, I thought.

Takka interrupted. “It was an interesting evening. I learned a great deal about human behavior. Although the games were somewhat trivial, the interaction between players was unusual.”

“In what way?” I asked. I’d hoped to find out how Takka enjoyed the evening.

“The reactions of the players to one another ran the gamut of raki to sylo. I could not understand why everyone enjoyed the interchanges. It gave me a lot to think about.”

I desperately needed an interpretation of what Takka had just said. Apparently more words were missing from the universal translator. “Well, you’re more than welcome to come to the next game night, although it hasn’t been scheduled yet. It all depends on how busy I am.”

Takka made some strange motion with his head. I took his action as an affirmative.

“It looks like it’s time to sit down. Tari, you’re over here with me,” said Thomas. We walked to a table by one of the large windows. The rain had stopped and the sun was contributing to blindingly shiny water vistas. Thankfully, I sat with my back to the window. I would gaze at the view a little later.

I picked up the special menu. It had been divided into five sections—one for each race. And each dish was described in both English and the native languages. The restaurant had also added pictures, and indicated which species could tolerate each dish.

The human section looked delightful. And since The Peak did not have skimpy, artistic servings, I delighted in making my choices. I decided to restrict myself to human dishes this time, though.

Our table, as were all others, consisted of a mix of all races. Dino had joined us, but the rest of my tablemates were unknown to me. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true—two of the bowlers I had seen at practice, but I had never spoken to them.

Before Inspector Hayden’s speech, we indicated our selections to the servers. Thomas made his speech short and simple—which pleased everyone, aliens included. Only a few moments later, dishes started to arrive. Silence prevailed for a short while, as we ate. And then I asked, “How’s the food? Mine’s very tasty.”

“The Itlan items are well prepared,” said one of the bowlers, “although the seasoning for this particular dish is a little bland.”

I looked at her plate. A mash of brown strings topped with red and green sprigs of something I couldn’t recognize covered it. Along the rim were parsley-like substances.

“Let me go into the kitchen and see if I can get some additional seasonings,” I said. “I’ve been to this restaurant before, so I’m sure they’ll help us out.” Actually, I really wasn’t sure about alien dishes, but I had to try.

“That would be wonderful. You are so helpful, and the food really is good. Thank you.”

After I excused myself and left the table, I stood in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment. I would have to enter carefully. With five species to cook for, I’d never seen the kitchen so busy. Since I had been to this restaurant numerous times, one of the kitchen staff recognized me.

“We’re a little busy for recipes tonight.”

I had to laugh, my reputation had preceded me. “Sorry. I just need a bit of spice for one of the Itlans. Apparently, the dish with brown string is a little bland.”

John laughed. “No problem. Let me get it for you.”

Kitchens were always warm, but John positively dripped. Cooking for five species should have overwhelmed the restaurant, but they seemed to be coping. I decided to send a note to the head chef commending them, on behalf of Thomas, for their excellent work.

John returned with a small dish.

“The Itlan cook says your guest must have a numb grakkle. But you probably don’t want to repeat that.”

After we laughed, I gave John a pat on his shoulder, and went back to my table. I handed the dish to the Itlan bowler. Her delight showed, and after she seasoned her dish, she took the dish of spice over to other tables.

“Perhaps you should become a diplomat,” suggested Dino.

Is he pulling my leg? “I definitely do not want your job.”

“Detective Sergeant Dominion has enough to do,” said Thomas. “I need to talk to you after the reception, Tari. There are a couple of items we have to implement; nothing serious.”

I turned to my sidekick. “Ambassador Dino, how’s your food?”

“Not bad. Banquets tend to get a bit tedious, and I go to a lot of them. However, on another note, this restaurant has the most magnificent view. I could stare out the windows for hours. So much of Vancouver can be seen.”

We’d finished eating, so Dino and I stood up and walked closer to the window. I had to agree with him. With a panoramic view such as found on the top of a mountain, Greater Vancouver glowed.

“Tari, I am speechless. Nothing like this view is found on our world.”

Associating speechlessness with Dino seemed bizarre. In silence, we savored the view.

Dino continued, “And that gondola ride, it was exciting. I have never been on a gondola before—our planet is mostly flat. It was actually pretty scary.”

A few decades ago, the transit authority had finally got- ten around to linking the top of Burnaby Mountain with the lower transit system via gondolas. A bus line up the mountain to the university, housing, and restaurants had previously existed but, during the winter months, the mountain roads were occasionally shut down due to snow. The gondolas provided access for all seasons.

So Rheinon are scared of heights. How would this affect Dino’s ability to interact with other races?

“Detective Sergeant, what are your plans for tomorrow?” asked Takka, interrupting my thoughts.

“The bowling practice will…”

A scream rang out. I thought the sound had come from the direction of the washrooms. I quickly ran down to the lower floor. A distraught human male stood in the doorway of the men’s washroom.

“What’s the problem?” Nothing appeared out of place.

“A Mountie is standing over a body,” he said, with a hiccup.

I pushed my way inside. I found Brian with his hands on a Bremen.

“This alien appears dead; I’m trying to resuscitate him.” Brian’s voice cracked as he uttered those words.