“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.”

––Ernest Hemingway



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: One Less Suspect

The sun streaming in the bank of windows in the kitchen warmed the chilly tile underfoot, making it comfortable enough to sit and watch Alyx eat her breakfast––a bowl of oatmeal and a handful of vitamins. It wasn’t unusual for the temperature to fluctuate dramatically, and according to the weather forecast, it would rise to the low eighties by noon.

The phone rang; I jumped on the chair next to Alyx and heard Maggie’s excited voice.

“Alyx, have you read the paper, yet?”

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“Mark Merkley was killed last night.”

“How?” she asked, as she unfolded the paper and scanned each page until she found the article.

“Someone shot him. A neighbor heard the shot and called the police. Read the article and I’ll see you at the store this afternoon.”

“Okay, sweetie, thanks for calling.”

By late afternoon we were all at the shop and Alyx had more information on the shooting. A neighbor of Merkley’s had heard shots fired, and when he looked out the window, he saw a car pull away. He didn’t get the license plate number, only the make and color of the vehicle. Other neighbors said they saw that same car parked in front of Merkley’s house several times during the week, and didn’t see anyone getting in or out of the car.

“I heard that the police interviewed his girlfriend,” Alyx was saying to Maggie, “and she told them he was a gambler, got into a high-stakes poker game here in town, suffered a heavy loss, and borrowed money from a loan shark to pay his debt. Word on the street is that he was killed because he didn’t pay them back.”

“That makes sense,” said Maggie. “How much did he borrow?”

“Thirty-thousand,” replied Alyx, “and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it’s the same amount the stolen diamond was worth. I was thinking about Mark Merkley after I read the short blurb in the paper about him and the thought suddenly struck me that if he got killed because he didn’t pay his gambling debts, then he didn’t kill Althea for sure.”

“So you’re thinking the diamond must still be in the desk, if that’s where he hid it.”

The women trotted out the door before Maggie finished her sentence, and I trotted over to Misty. I asked her to guide Alyx to where she saw the thief hide the diamond, and she was thrilled to lead the parade.

Alyx, however, didn’t make it to the desk. A round, pasty-faced, man with thick, red hands stopped her.

In a booming voice, he asked if she worked there. “Yes, I do. How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for an old desk that has lots of cubby holes to hide stuff. You know what I’m talking about?”

It was clear to me that Alyx had no intention of selling the desk, so she’d placed it in an out-of-the way spot in the shop, up against a wall, not easily seen unless you were looking for it.

“I know what you’re looking for,” Alyx said to the man, “but we don’t have it. There are two other antique stores down the street, you might try there.”

“A friend of mine said she saw it here the other day,” he insisted.

“I’m sorry; the desk she saw is not for sale,” she said as she edged away.

His face turned red, sweat appeared on his brow. “I’ll pay whatever you want. The desk is for my wife. It would mean a lot to her.”

“I’m really sorry; it’s not for sale.”

“Look, you don’t understand; I did something I won’t be forgiven for unless I make it up to her big. I need to buy that desk,” he pleaded.

Alyx shook her head, and she repeated firmly, “It’s not for sale.”

Fine. See if I ever come here again. And I promise, neither will anyone else I know.”

He said that last part loud enough for everyone to hear, and then stomped out of the store.

“I hope he keeps his promise about not coming back, and if his friends are anything like him, I won’t miss them either,” said Maggie.

After the man left, Alyx took all the drawers out of the desk and kept shooing Misty away. The little cat rose on her hind legs, and kept pawing at one gaping hole, squeaking out meow after meow.

“Misty, what is the matter with you? Do you see something I’m not seeing?”

Misty answered with a loud frustrated meow and stepped aside. I stretched as tall as I could on my hind legs, stuck my paw in the first drawer space, and found the wad of gum stuck on the underside of the top, the diamond still embedded. With a quick scratch from my claws, the little gum-encrusted gem was released into Alyx’s hands.

Two hours later, Alyx handed the plastic bag containing the diamond to Smarts, and he pocketed it.

“Thank you for your efforts, Ms. Hille.”

“As I tried to tell you before, I thought Merkley stole it and hid it in the desk. However, I don’t know that I would have ever found it if my cats hadn’t insisted.”

“You’re too modest, Ms. Hille. Didn’t you try to give your cats credit for solving the case last spring?”

“Okay, maybe they didn’t solve the case, but they helped.”

Standing close by, Maggie pulled her away. “Looks like you were right.”

Alyx stole a glance at the departing detective, “I was right about Merkley stealing the diamond––not about killing Althea. Speaking of which––do you want to go to her place and start to price the items for the estate sale?”

“I thought we weren’t going to do that, yet. Never mind, I get it. You want to snoop around some more, don’t you?”

“Someone killed Althea, and he’s still out there. Maybe the two of us can find a clue or something that will motivate Detective Smarts to investigate further.”

“When do you want to go?”

“Since both Bernice and Nelda are working today, now seems like a good time. Do you have anything going on?”

“I have a couple of calls to make first and then I’ll be ready.”

I thought it would be a good idea to go along with them, so I quickly slipped out behind Maggie, and wedged myself under her seat before she could grab me. I’d used this method before with success.

While Maggie and Alyx priced the items in the kitchen cabinets to sell-on-site, I explored the area. I knew where Alyx had found Althea’s body and started there.

When I’d asked Simon if he knew who’d killed his human, he said that when he’d arrived on the scene, Althea was already dead. Although my sense of smell isn’t as good as the canine species, it hasn’t failed me so far. As I sniffed and pawed around, I detected the scent of more than one person, and pieces of my conversation with Simon started to fall into place.

Maggie moved to the living room, and Alyx went upstairs to the bedrooms. I followed Alyx, curled up in a corner of the room and mulled over what Simon had said he’d overheard.

“You have more money than you can possibly use up before you die; why won’t you help Dad?”

“Because he thinks I’m crazy and told your mother to have me declared incompetent. He could have asked me for help, instead he wants to take it all away.”

Althea had never spoken badly of Carole; in fact, she hardly mentioned her at all except for the comment she made to Alyx a while back while discussing antiques. Althea said that not everyone appreciated antiques. Her niece and her husband for example, only appreciated them for their resale value. Then she added that the only thing Carole and her husband had in common was their bad temper after he took a cut in pay in order to keep his job.

We were in the large and bare master bedroom. The centerpiece of the room––the three-quarter size, circa 1880, Victorian bed with walnut and mahogany spindles, and elegantly carved roses and leaves, was for sale in Antiques & Designs. Also gone were the mahogany dresser and the Victorian lady’s sitting chair, with delicately carved flowers on the curved back and an embroidered seat. The only items left were the mattress set, a laminate end table, and a mahogany painted lingerie chest.

Alyx pulled out the top drawer of the lingerie chest, carried it to the mattress, and started sorting the items into four piles. Maggie joined her when she pulled out the second drawer.

“I’m all done downstairs. How about you, did you find anything interesting?”

Alyx pointed to the pile of pictures. “Can you believe that Althea wouldn’t have a picture of her child? In fact, there’s no evidence in any of this stuff that a child ever existed.”

“Maybe her husband got rid of everything to make it easier for her. She never mentioned having a child, so maybe she blocked it all out of her mind.”

“I don’t know, Maggie. You might be right. It just doesn’t seem normal.”

“Well, that’s it from what you’ve told me, she wasn’t.”

Something caught Alyx’s attention.

“Look at this, Maggie,” she said, handing her the two sheets of paper. It’s from the same bank we do business with and look at the balance––a whopping half-million dollars, plus or minus a few thousand, and if you add the balance from this other bank, she’s worth three-quarters of a million dollars!”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding! Are these statements current?” She flipped through them and answered her own question, “The one from Colonial Bank is, and so is the one from the other bank. Althea could have bought our whole inventory and the building.”

She saw the look on Alyx’s face and quickly added, “Oh, she had me fooled too. She seemed so lonely. Maybe she thought she needed an excuse to keep coming around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know. She said she couldn’t afford to pay for the desk, so she developed a relationship with us while she supposedly saved up for it.”

“Sure. That’s probably how it was.”

I moseyed on over to inspect the open drawer on the slim chest, and as I approached I saw the corner of an envelope sticking out from beneath the chest. I grabbed it with my teeth, gave it a tug or two, and carried it to Alyx.

“Good cat,” she said, stroking my head. She turned the envelope over and read the return address aloud. “Franklin International Investigations, Inc.”

Maggie cleared a spot on the mattress and sat down. I did the same without clearing a spot. Alyx opened the unsealed envelope, took out a single sheet of paper, and scanned the contents.

“Well, what does it say?”

“As incredible as it sounds––Althea’s son is alive and wants to see her! Apparently, she hasn’t responded to phone calls, prompting the agency to write, advising her that he plans to call on her unless they hear from her.”

Alyx looked at the envelope again. “This firm is in Chicago. I wonder if that’s where he lives.”

“Do you think he’s down here and knows she’s dead?”

“The date on the letter is three weeks ago, so it’s possible.”


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