Cat On A Hyacinth Hunt

Chapter 20

Postmortem Post-it

Lieutenant C. R. Molina studied the waterlogged scrawl through the clear plastic bag that contained it.

"Traces of adhesive on the upper edge. Probably a Post-it note," Detective Alch said.

"We're lucky to get anything off this scrap."

"He used a ballpoint. A felt-tip wouldn't even have left an impression. But you can see the hardest strokes retained some ink. Good thing the Good Ship Suicide never goes underwater more than ten minutes a performance."

"Good thing the crew noticed something extra bound to the figurehead in the dark."

"Some fighting cats on the dock drew the crew's attention to the prow of the boat. Barge.

Whatever."

Molina kept her face deadpan, but it wasn't easy. Those damn cats. Every Las Vegas homicide cop needed a couple of fairy godmother cats, right? She squinted her eyes at the smudged writing in a dead man's messy hand.

Six little words. The lab interpretation suggested: "deadhead at Circus rich." And something

"on Hyacinth."

"We figure it was a tip-off to some easy mark at Circus Circus," Alch added. "From every indication, the dead man was a petty criminal. Just the type to be scamming some big spender."

Molina only nodded. She didn't agree, but she had inside in-formation. Cat magic. Who would she hit on first? That was the question.

Maybe Matt Devine. He was the most vulnerable, the least guarded, the most intrinsically honest. Knowing that made her job easier, and his life harder. Too bad. For a cop, a conscience is a terrible thing to waste.