Catch As Cat Can

43

What a crackbrained idea,” Pewter complained.

“Unfortunately, humans don't consult us before they go off on a toot.” Mrs. Murphy agreed with her friend's assessment of the situation. “Silly of them, I know.”

“In theory it's a good idea.” Tucker stayed on the other side of the room, away from the welding torch. The odor, the sparks, the flame bothered her more this time.

“If whoever is doing this stuff is dumb, it's a good idea.” Pewter sniffed. “But I doubt they're that stupid. They'll see the camera. It's like a bank camera.”

“We know it's up there in the corner but the thief doesn't know it's there and it might work. There's an outside chance.” Tucker remained dimly hopeful.

“We'll see. Also, I'd amend thief to killer,” Mrs. Murphy said.

The animals watched as BoomBoom patiently restored the huge lock to its place. Fair held it up but even his strong arms wearied. Harry took a turn to spell him.

As Boom worked, Cooper told the group about Dwayne Fuqua. “. . . on the fringes.”

“What about a high-school counselor? He must have made an impression on someone,” Susan said.

Cooper shook her head. “Not much. Didn't get his diploma. The father abandoned him. The mother turned to drink and drugs. No one knows where she is or even if she's alive. He lived in a room in a small house past the old Ford dealership, I mean before they moved. Checked with his landlady. She said he was quiet. She didn't know much about him except he'd be gone for days at a time. Paid his rent on time.”

“Did he have a criminal record?” Harry called out as she was holding the lock.

“No. That surprised me.”

“Odd.” Fair stepped in as BoomBoom turned down the flame. “My turn.”

“Thanks.” Harry was relieved. “And he knew Don. That's really—I don't know. It confuses me. Waynesboro's just over the mountain. There's plenty of ways people can meet one another. I guess criminal intent doesn't have to be party to it.” She shrugged. “But with both of them dead—well, what could they have known?”

“Or done?” Coop rested her elbow on the carton of phony money.

“I still say it's drugs. People don't have cash like that unless they deal drugs,” Fair said.

Boom, mask up for a quick breather, added, “Diamonds. Gems. There's a lot of cash in that business.”

Susan lovingly looked at the fake money, wishing it was real and wishing it was hers. “Well, what about rubies or sapphires?”

“Susan, what are you talking about?” Fair raised his voice over the sound of the torch.

“Okay, you intend to get engaged. You aren't sure what stone your fiancée would like. The jeweler shows you loose stones. You pick one and the others go back. Retail jewelers don't keep a lot of loose gems. Not here, anyway. We're too small a market. So Don could have illegal rubies. I mean it wouldn't have to be diamonds, given what Harry said about the dirty diamonds. I'd forgotten about that, the press calls them dirty diamonds.”

“Gold, silver, platinum. Maybe it was metal.” Harry was curious.

“Yeah, but the next question is, Where would Don Clatterbuck or Dwayne get the gold, who would buy it from them, and why?” Cooper sighed, her head spinning.

Harry smiled at Cooper. “What you're telling us is you don't think this money is about stones or precious metals.”

“Right.”

“Drugs,” Fair persisted.

“The kingpin used Wesley, I mean Dwayne, and Don as mules.” Coop rose to take her turn holding the lock in place. “That's more likely.”

“Don could hide drugs in the animals he stuffed,” Susan said brightly.

“What an awful idea.” Pewter made a face.

“What? You don't want to be stuffed when you die?” Murphy laughed uproariously.

“I'll outlive you!” Pewter flared, flashing her fangs.

“Who knows? Anyway, it doesn't do you one bit of good to think about death. There's nothing you can do about when you die but there's sure a lot you can do about living.”

“Murphy, Pewter, let's not talk about dying.” Tucker hated the thought of dying.

The torch cut off, BoomBoom flipped back her face guard. “Done!” She inspected the seam as she tried not to inhale, because the metallic fumes made her eyes water. “Not bad if I do say so myself.”

The others crowded round as the fumes dissipated.

“Let me clean up the floor.” Harry had brought a dustpan and hand mop with her, anticipating this. “It wouldn't do for someone to open the safe only to hear tiny metal bits crunch underfoot.”

Once the floor was cleaned Coop stacked the fake money in the safe. “Okay, let's shut it, lock it, and then unlock it to make sure his combination works.”

“No.” Boom put her hand on the door to keep it open. “Test the combination before you shut the door.”

“Right.” Coop let BoomBoom twirl the handles, then stop them. Then she carefully rotated the center dial according to the directions found in Don's safety-deposit box at the bank.

The clicking of the tumblers filled the room as everyone remained quiet.

“Works.” Boom smiled. “Want me to shut the door now?”

“Sure.” Coop nodded.

The door shut with a satisfying, heavy sound.

“What do you think about my idea of Don hiding drugs in deer heads?” Susan reminded them of her idea.

“God, I hope there's nothing in my woodpecker.” Harry wanted to get that woodpecker back from the Culpeper sheriff's department.

“My woodpecker,” Pewter corrected her.

“Nothing has turned up in your woodpecker.” Coop allayed her fears. “But hiding drugs in stuffed animals would be a good way to transport them. Maybe you're on to something, Susan.”

“Wonder how Don got into it?” Harry asked.

“Greed. That's how everyone gets into it,” Fair said.

“Where would they get that quantity of illegal substances to begin with?” BoomBoom checked her tools.

“If they were selling marijuana that's not hard. It's grown here in the state and no amount of surveillance by helicopters at harvest time locates all of it. And people can grow it in greenhouses, too. If they sold cocaine, heroin, those drugs, they'd need a source in a big city. If that's what they were doing.” Coop picked up the empty carton.

“What about legal drugs? Why couldn't they sell Darvon and Valium and Quaaludes?” Harry thought they were as bad as the illegal drugs.

“Sure, but they'd have to have a contact. Either a corrupt physician or a company salesman. You can't just go out and get your hands on a jar of muscle relaxers.” Fair, being a vet, had a keen appreciation of legal drugs, since he was pestered by salespeople at regular intervals.

“What about steroids?” Susan wondered.

“Same difference.” Fair picked up the heavy oxygen tank. “Even someone good at chemistry can't cook that up in the kitchen. Like I said, you'd have to have a corrupt source or steal them from a patient.”

“Are there drugs you can make at home?” Harry innocently asked.

“Amyl nitrite,” Coop answered. “But it's a liquid, wouldn't be that easy to transport. It's the kind of drug that someone with skill could cook up in the kitchen but your customer would come to the kitchen to buy. Liquids are too much of a pain to transport great distances and the profit isn't that huge. The profit margin on illegal drugs or designer drugs from the big drug companies is huge. Don isn't going to have five hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars in his safe from amyl nitrite.”

“What if they stole frozen semen from high-priced stallions in Kentucky? What if the business was that? Some of those stallions stand for over a hundred thousand dollars. I know how the semen is cooled and shipped. If Roger kept going to Lexington he could be bringing back stolen semen. With DNA testing he'd have to have the real stuff. But he could do it. Maybe the car racing was a cover.”

“He could. I never thought of that but I don't associate Roger with horses.” Fair put the oxygen tank down. “I guess he could have done it. Are we ready?”

The others nodded; they checked and rechecked the place, then turned out the light and left. Fair gallantly carried the oxygen tank up to the truck just as he had carried it down.

“Strong bugger,” Pewter said admiringly.

“You didn't live with us when Mom was married to him. He really was worth his weight.” Mrs. Murphy remained neutral about whether or not Harry should get back together with Fair but she certainly appreciated his hard work on the farm.

Fair pulled Harry aside after he loaded the tank on BoomBoom's fancy truck. “Have you heard from Diego?”

“He called late this afternoon from Montevideo. He'll be in town next weekend. He's escorting Lottie to an alumni fund-raiser.”

“Oh.” Fair smiled.

“She asked him.”

“Oh.” His face fell.

“And?”

“She's making it hard for him.” Tucker loved Fair.

“He's gotten better at expressing himself.” Mrs. Murphy was proud of Fair's progress and although she wasn't a big believer in therapy she thought it had helped him. He liked structure even for his emotions, and therapy gave him the illusion of that. She knew one could never structure one's emotions but Fair's sessions helped him gain insight into himself.

“I thought we were going to the Wrecker's Ball.”

“We are. I haven't changed my mind. You asked me at New Year's. As I recall you said, ‘Plan ahead.'”

“I did, didn't I?” He was tremendously relieved, then he tensed again. “Is Diego coming to the ball?”

“He is and I'll dance with him. I dance with all the fellows. I even dance fast ones with Susan if you all are pooped out.”