“What do you mean by political clout?” I asked Dino. Politics really weren’t my forte, although it looked like I might have to change that.

“Even though we have discussed this before, let me expand. The BRITE ALLIANCE, even before Earth joined, was ruled by the world who had gained the most number of points over a time period. Those points were gained from various situations and activities including scientific accomplishments, competitions, and political alliances. The world with the highest total governed the alliance for the next three cycles. Currently, the points are extremely close. In fact, Tristor is the closest to winning. However, Bremen and Rheine are not far behind. Either one of the three could get enough points if they win the bowling competition. And there are points for first, second, and third, so the final totals are unclear.”

“Isn’t a bowling competition an archaic way to determine who leads an alliance?”

“I agree, but do not forget the rules have been established over hundreds of cycles. There is much talk of changing the rules. In fact, there is a hidden revolution plotting to stir things up, but nothing has happened. As you may remember, Tristor is a relatively recent addition to the alliance, and it annoys Bremen and Rheine to have an upstart take what they think is their rightful place. Bremen and Rheine have alternated being the leaders for many, many cycles.”

“Heaven knows what would happen if Earth got close,” I said.

“Actually, there is some concern regarding Earth— although I do not really understand, or have access to, all the behind the scenes dealings. But Earth is not yet in a position to have this happen, and not for some time. And, do not for- get, having the point totals so close is quite unusual, which is why a sports competition has become significant for the first time. Sports competitions have relatively low points so they normally do not contribute a great deal.”

“Ambassador, you’ve given me something to think about but, in the meantime, we have a murder to solve.” I looked about. “Harrison, is Carl Hender here yet?”

“Yes. He’s waiting in interview room three.” I motioned for Dino and Brian to follow me.

In the interview room, Carl sat at the table and rubbed his hands on his pants. Were his hands sweating? He certainly seemed off kilter.

“Carl, I need you to think back to the banquet last night. Can you remember anything else—any little detail—even if it doesn’t seem important to you?” I said.

“Well, a lot of arguing was going on between the Bremen at one table, but I don’t know what it was all about because they were too far away. Actually, I just assumed it was arguing from the tone. Maybe they were just having a lively discussion. And our waiter was a little slow. So slow that Cleare went into the kitchen and brought back a plate of food for Reene. Also, the music annoyed everyone.” Carl’s eyes were on the floor during his recitation.

“Interesting,” I said out loud as I wondered what he was hiding. “Now, tell me the real reason you were in the kitchen last night?”

Carl cleared his throat. “Ah, well, one of the human cooks was my wife’s friend, and I wanted to talk to him. He was in the house when my wife was killed and he should have helped her.”

“What happened the night of your wife’s death?” I had read the report but I wanted Carl’s explanation.

“After the robber attacked my wife, her friend ran into another room to call the police—at least that’s what he said.”

Carl still didn’t look at any of us.

“What were you going to do in the kitchen last night?”

“Nothing. At least I don’t think so. I just wanted to talk to him again. He’s been avoiding me.”

No wonder! “Carl, look at me.”

He lifted his head.

“I know the death of your wife has been very hard. However, from what I can see, you blame everyone, not just the robber. For example, you seem to blame the police, your wife’s friend, and who knows who else?” I caught his eye. “Have you been to a psychiatrist?”

Carl shook his head.

“I want you to talk to our staff psychiatrist. Will you do that?”

Carl nodded.

“Good. You need to talk this out with someone impartial. Brian, please take Carl to Dr. Akers’ office and arrange an appointment.”

After Brian and Carl left, Dino asked, “Ma’am, are you concerned this official will commit a crime?”

“Not really. He’s an angry person who needs to sort out his feelings. And since he originally blamed the police for his wife’s death, and now seems to blame this cook, talking to a psychiatrist will help him resolve his issues.” I hoped so; he wasn’t a bad guy.

“Would you like me to talk to Mr. Hender?” asked Dino.

“No, I don’t think that would work. The psychiatrist should have the first attempt at reasoning with him—or whatever it is psychiatrists do.”

For thirty minutes, I worked at my desk while Dino composed his daily report. Then I had a call from one of Smith’s human cooks at Revolutions.

“Detective Sergeant, I remember something from the banquet that might be significant.”

“Thanks for calling. What did you see?”

“I saw a Tristorian sprinkle something on a plate of food he dished up himself. It might not mean anything, but he wasn’t one of last night’s cooks.”

Now, this was interesting! My heart began to pound with excitement. “I’m sending a few photos; see if one of them is the Tristorian you noticed.”

* * * *

After the cook confirmed who had seasoned the plate of food, I had Jack bring Cleare into the station, and then Jack, Dino, Cleare, and I settled into one of the interview rooms. This time I made sure Dino was part of the group.

“Cleare, tell me why you poisoned Reene Tane.”

“I do not know what you are talking about.” Cleare put his hands in two pockets of his flamboyant Tristorian vest.

“We have a witness who saw you season a plate of food, and we also have a banquet participant who watched you take the plate of food to Reene. Pretty compelling evidence,” I said.

“I did poison Reene, but I also poisoned all Tristorians by modifying the pot of gile. I just poisoned Reene more.”

“And you faked your own symptoms?” asked Jack.

“Yes. I didn’t touch the gile.”

“So we know what you did, but I would like to know why,” I said.

“I wanted to be on a bowling team, so I needed to get rid of Reene—or one of the others on that team—so I could replace him. After all, I am one of their spares. It is a matter of honor. And I am a better bowler than Reene.”

“It might be a matter of honor, but your team didn’t make the cut. So Reene Tane’s death was for nothing,” I said. What a sad waste of life.

Cleare did not respond.

“Jack, take him away.”

Dino and I watched them leave. “Are we going to have any problems with the Tristorians over this murder?”

“Probably not, but let me make some calls,” said Dino.

While Dino busied himself, I made a call of my own. “Thomas, we have a confession for the murder of Reene Tane. It was a Tristorian named Cleare Folo. He was a spare and wanted to be on the team.” Harrison’s original suggestion, which we had all laughed at, turned out to be remarkably accurate.

“Ambassador Rare is calling the diplomats to apprise them of the situation,” I said.

“Well done. So all that’s left is the murder of Skitem-Carry at The Peak?”

“Yes. However, we have no leads, except for Ugon E Smat, and I don’t think he did it.” I sighed. “I think I’ll take an evening off. I need to catch up on my rest at the same time the bowlers do.”

“Good plan. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Dino wandered back to my desk after making a few calls. “I do not think there will be trouble from the Tristorians. Since only Tristorians were involved in this murder, they may want to take Cleare home to be dealt with, but a final decision has not been made, and it will not be your problem or decision. Your involvement has concluded.”

“Good,” I said. “Now tell me about the incident in the casino.” The day had been so busy I’d forgotten about it.

Dino composed his thoughts. “Rheinon have a predilection for becoming addicted to games of chance. In fact, most such games are banned on Rheine. The few allowable games are so boring no one wants to play them. The under playground is another matter, but I am sure you have the same problem with some of your banned items.”

I nodded, after I deciphered “under playground” as in “underground”.

“So when some of our more susceptible members found the casino floor they could not resist. It really is a problem. I gently told them Rheinon are banned from the casino and they could get removed from anything to do with the competition if they were found gambling. I hope the problem has gone away. Of course, I need to spread the new rule to all Rheinon.”

“Excellent solution.” I gave Dino a speculative look. “Since we solved a murder today, I’m taking the evening off. How about a game night?” I couldn’t leave him out.

Eagerly, Dino agreed. I gathered a few others and made some calls, and a much-needed night of relaxation was planned. We’d earned it.

* * * *

After I’d updated Mom on my day, we discussed where her research had led.

“It’s true only the Rheinon religious community can use cutting blades of any kind. And when I say community, I mean religious officials.”

“But how did this develop?”

“Apparently, way back in Rheine’s past, there was a religious war. As the losers of the war used knives to achieve death, the winners banned knives or cutting tools, except for themselves.”

“Seems a little trite and unwieldy,” I said.

“I agree. And the ban really isn’t complete. For example, security and police are allowed knives. And, obviously, knives are used in food preparation. But the general public really has a phobia about them.”

“If you say so. But I’m more inclined to believe Ugon when he says he didn’t do it, because he has no compunction about killing other aliens.”

“You’re most likely correct. Your question about ethics, I’m still working on—it’s a terribly huge area when you consider how many races are involved.”

I couldn’t argue the point since some days I didn’t even understand human ethics.

“How about twelve? You know how I mentioned running into the number twelve everywhere—did anything pop up during your research?”

“The Rheinon and Bremen certainly believe in the power of twelve. Because of their twelve fingers and base twelve numbering system, they are firm adherents to the fact that’s why they’ve led the BRITE Alliance for so many years.”

“What’s going to happen if the Tristorians get their final points and overtake them?” I asked.

“That’s a very good question. There’s lots of speculation, of course. And one rumor has an overhaul of the point system taking place, but who knows?”

“That would stir up the pot a bit.” I shook my head. “I have a game night tonight, so let’s keep our eyes open. You never know what we’ll hear.”