Purrfectly Dogged. Purrfectly Dead. Purrfect Saint

“But Jaqlyn wasn’t a nice person.”

“You mean he deserved to be killed?”

“Well…” Dooley wavered. “I guess not,” he finally conceded. “Or maybe just a little.”

“You can’t kill a person just a little, Dooley. Either you kill them or you don’t.”

“I guess so,” he said, sounding sad.

We watched on as Chase led a stupefied Tex away, Uncle Alec removed himself from the scene, speaking orders into his phone, and Odelia gave instructions to the ambulance people, presumably to revive Francine and take care of Monica. There probably wasn’t a whole lot they could do for Jaqlyn.

Brutus and Harriet came hurrying up, Brutus with a piece of chicken filet dangling from his lips and Harriet with lips smeared with red currant sauce for some reason. They’d clearly taken up position near the food table and had done themselves well.

“What’s going on?” asked Harriet.

I was ready to repeat my earlier report but Dooley beat me to it.“Tex wanted to kill Jaqlyn just a little bit but overdid it and now Jaqlyn is dead and Tex will go to prison.”

“What?!!!” Brutus cried, and to indicate how shook up he was by this bulletin from the front lines, dropped the piece of chicken and didn’t even bother to pick it up again.

“Tex? Killed Jaqlyn?” asked Harriet, also looking extremely distraught.

“Sadly, yes,” I confirmed. “Chase just arrested him, though not wholeheartedly,” I quickly added, to make it clear the cop wasn’t one of your devil-may-care arresters.

Odelia crouched down and absentmindedly stroked my fur, something she tends to do when times are tough and she’s not feeling on top of the world. It seems to relax her.

“Bad business,” I said commiseratively.

“The worst,” she agreed, then got up to comfort her mother, who was looking shell-shocked, and probably in need of medical assistance herself.

“I say Jaqlyn had it coming,” said Brutus now, another one whose moral compass was a little out of whack.

“You can’t say that, Brutus,” I said. “No one deserves to die. Not even doctors who steal unto half your patients and say nasty things behind your back.”

“Did Jaqlyn say nasty things behind Tex’s back?” asked Brutus.

“That’s what I heard.”

Kingman had come waddling up. He looked appropriately grave.“Tough day,” he announced. “The day when the law starts arresting good people like Tex is the day…” He thought for a moment, then finished with, “… well, not a good day, that’s for sure.”

“Did you know that Jaqlyn had been talking smack behind Tex’s back?” asked Brutus.

“Oh, sure. Misty told me two nights ago how she overheard Jaqlyn tell her human that Tex was past his prime and making so many mistakes it was a miracle he hadn’t killed a patient yet. And Buster said his human had stopped going to Tex after meeting Jaqlyn on the street and being told that Tex never even finished medical school. Can you imagine? Jaqlyn said Tex was entirely self-taught and had learned the trade by dissecting rats.”

“But… why didn’t you tell us?!” Harriet cried. “You should have told us, Kingman!”

The cat looked at us dumbly.“But… I thought you knew. I thought everybody knew.”

Oh, boy. If this was true, and Tex knew, he had a big fat motive for murder.

Chapter 27

Vesta, who’d decided to stay home from the Jones garden party, heard the news the way most people in Hampton Cove heard it: through the grapevine. In her case she’d been removing greenfly from her precious roses when suddenly she became aware of the sound of heavy breathing. When she looked up, she saw that the breather was none other than Marcie Trapper, and judging from the woman’s sparkling eyes, flushed face and flaring nostrils, she was about to spill some particularly startling piece of news.

Without awaiting permission, Marcie burst out,“Tex has been arrested for murder!”

Vesta narrowed her eyes at her neighbor, then sniffed the air, trying to determine if Marcie had been hitting the bottle a little too hard. She knew Marcie and Ted had planned to go to the Jones bash, and knowing her neighbors also knew that their capacity for imbibing alcoholic beverages was above the norm.

“Have you been drinking?” she asked therefore.

“Yes, but who cares? Didn’t you hear what I just said? Tex has been arrested for the murder of Jaqlyn Jones! Odelia herself found him in the trunk of her dad’s car. Dead! Apparently he’d been hit over the head and the body was still warm when she found him!”

“Huh,” said Vesta. This was news. “They arrested Tex?”

“Chase did. Carted him off to the station housetout de suite, as the French say. Can you imagine what Marge must be feeling right now? She looked devastated. I tried to talk to her but she only spoke in monosyllables. Poor Marge. I’ve never seen her like that.”

“Right,” said Vesta, removing her gardening gloves, her gardening apron and her gardening scarf. Then, without another word, she made for the great indoors.

“Where are you going?” Marcie yelled, clearly disappointed with her neighbor’s tepid response.

“To clear my son-in-law’s name!” Vesta yelled back. “He didn’t do it, Marcie.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that you’re blotto!”

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Odelia, under normal circumstances so rational and sane, was shaken up. She was used to investigating all manner of crime, but suddenly felt unequal to the task of investigating this particular crime. Her dad? A murderer? It was hard to fathom.

“I should have seen it coming,” said her mother. “He told me just the other night that something had to be done. But how could I have known he planned to kill Jaqlyn!”

“He’s been under a lot of pressure lately,” Odelia agreed. “But did he think he could get away with this? I mean, he asked me to get his bag from the car. Did he think I wouldn’t see the body?”

“He hasn’t been thinking straight. He must have killed Jaqlyn in a moment of insanity, stuck him in his car and forgotten all about it.” Marge directed an anxious look at her daughter. “I hope the judge will be lenient when he sets your dad’s sentence. I hope he’ll understand that undernormal circumstances Tex would never do something like this.”

“We have to get him a good lawyer.”

“The best.”

“I’ll chip in if you can’t afford one, Mom,” said Odelia. “We’ll all chip in.”

“Financially it’s been a tough couple of months,” Mom agreed, “but I can always sell the house, or take a second mortgage.”

“We’ll get through this,” Odelia promised her mother.

The ambulance had arrived twenty minutes earlier and taken care of Francine and Monica. More police officers had been dispatched, and had undertaken the task of taking witness statements from all of those present, which was an undertaking that was still ongoing, as half of Hampton Cove had shown up for Jaqlyn’s and Francine’s party.

And as Odelia and Marge sat commiserating, suddenly Gran walked up, a resolute look on her face.“Well?” she said, taking a wide-legged stance in front of her daughter and granddaughter. “Why aren’t you talking to people? Finding out what happened?”

“We know what happened,” said Odelia. “Dad snapped and hit Jaqlyn over the head with something and stuffed him in the trunk of his car.”

“Bullcrap!” said Vesta. “Tex didn’t do diddly squat. That man is incapable of murder. No, someone else killed that no-good piece of human trash and is trying to frame Tex.”

“As much as I appreciate your faith in my husband,” said Mom, “I don’t think—”

“Exactly! You’re not thinking straight, and I don’t blame you. If my husband got caught with a dead body in his car I’d jump to conclusions as well. Although, in Jack’s case I might have turned him in myself, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that we need to movefast. Marcie told me the body was still warm, so the murder must have happened just before you found the dead shmuck, correct?”

“I guess so,” said Odelia, dragging her mind back to the moment she’d discovered Jaqlyn’s body. The memory wasn’t a pleasant one, as she kept seeing the man’s dead eyes staring up at her.

“Which means the killer is still here,” said Gran, glancing around. “So let’s get cracking.”

“What do you mean?” asked Odelia, confused.

“This is not our first rodeo, hun. You and I have caught killers before. Well, let’s catch this one while he still thinks he’s gotten away with it. Let’s move quick!”

Odelia got up from the garden bench she and her mother had sunk onto after the devastating news had unfolded before their very eyes.“Are you sure?” she asked now, a tiny flicker of hope suddenly surging in her bosom.

“Of course I’m sure! Tex and I may not always see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean I’m not fond of the poor fish. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him rot in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. Come on, missy. We’ve got a killer to catch and a reputation to save.”

And with these words, she was off in the direction of the Jones residence.

Chapter 28

We’d all overheard Gran talk to her granddaughter like a Dutch uncle, and her words had inspired me.

“Gran is right,” I said. “Tex would never do such a thing. The man is inherently good and incapable of an act of pure evil.”

“Maybe he didn’t mean to kill Jaqlyn,” Harriet suggested. “Maybe it was an accident.”

“I think I know what happened,” said Brutus. “Tex is just like me: he doesn’t know his own strength. He probably just wanted to teach the guy a lesson and gave him a light tap on the head. Only he overdid it and found himself with a dead body on his hands.”

“So he panicked and stuffed him in the trunk of his car,” Harriet finished the story.

“Doubtful,” said Kingman. “Tex doesn’t exactly look like the strongman type to me.”

“He’s a doctor, and doctors are surprisingly muscular,” said Brutus, reluctant to abandon his neat little theory without a fight.

“Brutus is right,” said Harriet, coming to her mate’s support. “Doctors need to be able to lift patients with a finger so they can twirl them around and change their bedding and such. Or lift them up when they’ve managed to land themselves on the bedroom floor.”

“You’re thinking of nurses,” I said. “That’s exactly the kind of strenuous activity nurses engage in.”

“No, I’m thinking of doctors,” Harriet insisted. “Just look at Vena,” she added as a possibly decisive argument. “She’s as strong as an ox. Maybe even two or three oxen.”

“Vena is a vet,” I pointed out. “And vets need to be able to pull a calf from a cow, which is why they’re so strong. I’ve never seen Tex pull a calf from a cow.”

“Maybe he pulls calves from cows when no one is watching?” Dooley suggested.

“I still think he did it,” said Brutus. “Why else would the body be in his car?”

It was one of those aspects which are a little hard to move past, and any jury of Tex’s peers would probably think along the same lines.

“Look, it doesn’t matter what we think,” I argued. “If Gran says he didn’t do it, at the very least we should join the investigation and try to clear the man’s name. We owe him that much, wouldn’t you agree?”

“We could always talk to witnesses,” Harriet allowed. “Ask around and gather the facts.”

“I’ll help you guys,” said Kingman. “I don’t have much else to do right now, and I kinda like Tex. He once removed a splinter from my paw and I feel like I owe him for that.”

“Let’s split up,” I suggested. “Dooley and I will look for witnesses out on the street, while you guys talk to pets who were at the party.”

“Deal,” said Kingman, who looked excited to be joining us on his first-ever investigation. And as Brutus and Harriet pottered off in the direction of the garden, Kingman asked, “So how do I do this, Max? Do I look for specific clues? Fingerprints and footprints and cigar stubs and all that sort of thing? Or do I ask a bunch of seemingly innocuous questions, then walk away only to turn back and say, ‘Just one more thing?’”

“No, you just talk to any pet you find, and ask them if they saw something that might shed some light on what happened here this afternoon. We’re trying to build a timeline of events. To know who was where, when, with who, and did what to whom, how and why.”

He nodded along as I spoke.“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Could you repeat that one more time?”

“You ask who did what to whom when, where, how and why,” Dooley explained.

“Oh-kay,” said Kingman, his eyes glazing over somewhat. “Gotcha. So I figure out who was where when they did what to whom… why?”

“No, you try to figure out who was where when whatever happened to whoever for whatever reason,” said Dooley helpfully.

Kingman looked mystified.“Wow. This sleuthing stuff is a lot harder than it looks on TV. You know what? I’ll just ask folks what they think happened. I’m pretty sure they’ll tell me something useful.”

“Or you can do that,” I agreed.

Dooley and I walked back to the street, and saw that Uncle Alec was instructing his officers to festoon the scene with that nice yellow police tape that adds that cheerful touch to crime scenes, while an ambulance stood nearby, and also Abe Cornwall’s car.

Abe is our county coroner, and whenever a dead body is found he can’t seem to stay away. He was all over Tex’s car now, along with a couple of people dressed in white from top to toe for some reason, who were dusting the car and taking plenty of pictures.

A man had come walking up, and now addressed Uncle Alec. He was a large man with a protruding belly and a surprisingly zippy demeanor, given the circumstances.

“So it’s true, huh? Jaqlyn Jones finally met his maker.”

“Barney,” said Uncle Alec. “I was just on my way over to see you. Did you by any chance see what happened?”

“There was a big to-do,” said Barney, fondling a yellow handlebar mustache of which he seemed particularly proud. “But of course I wasn’t invited, which was to be expected.”

“No, I mean did you happen to see Tex and Jaqlyn going at it?”

“Tex? You mean your brother-in-law? He did this?”

“Yeah, he did. Slugged the man and stuffed his body in the trunk of his car.”

Barney took off his New York Rangers ball cap and scratched his scalp.“Way to go, Doctor Poole. I’ve always liked Tex. I have to tell you I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“But you didn’t see the fight?”

“No, sir, I sure didn’t. If I had I would have intervened. Lord knows I hated Jaqlyn’s guts, but beating him to death seems a little harsh. I would have simply taken him to court if I were in Doc Poole’s shoes.”

“So you heard about the animosity that existed between the two doctors?”

“Who hadn’t? It was a well-known fact Jaqlyn was doing a real number on the Doc. Tarnishing his reputation and stealing his patients. But like I said, that’s no reason to go and beat him over the head with… What did he use, exactly, if I may ask?” There was a touch of wistfulness in his voice, as if secretly regretting he hadn’t thought of the same thing.

“We haven’t found the murder weapon yet,” said Uncle Alec. “But we’ll find it,” he was quick to assure the other man.

“I’d go for aluminum,” said Barney, offering an expert’s opinion. “Aluminum baseball bat. One nice whack and it’s game over. I wouldn’t use wood. Wood cracks. You don’t want that.”

“Okay,” said Alec, eyeing the man a little strangely.

“Or a billy club. A metal one. Limit the point of impact.”

This time Alec didn’t respond, but merely stared at the other man.

“Of course there’s a lot to be said for your plain old hammer,” Barney allowed magnanimously. “You can call me old-fashioned but a good hammer is like a best friend. Always there when you need it. Never fails to get the job done, if you see what I mean.”

“I think Barney is sad that Tex killed Jaqlyn first,” Dooley commented, and I thought he was probably right.

We searched around for any pet witnesses, and found a small dog of the Schnauzer variety following the buzz of activity on his street with marked interest.

So we sidled up to the hirsute canine, careful not to startle him or her, and introduced ourselves.

“Hi, my name is Max,” I said, “and this is my friend Dooley. We’re Odelia Poole’s cats. Odelia is investigating the murder of Jaqlyn Jones and has asked us to participate in the investigation.”

“Oh, hi,” said the Schnauzer. “I’m Jack, and that’s my human over there.” He gestured with his snout to Barney, who now stood pontificating about different types of hammers and their respective advantages and disadvantages in dispensing with annoying neighbors.

“So did you know Jaqlyn?” I asked, opening my inquiries with a softball question.

“I knew of him,” said Jack. “Barney didn’t like him very much, and frankly neither did I. You see, Barney possesses a nice little plot of land located right behind Jaqlyn’s house, only Jaqlyn forbade him access, and they’ve been fighting about it for a while now. Only a couple of days ago Jaqlyn put a spiky thing on the track and destroyed Barney’s tires. Barney wasn’t happy. In fact he told me he was going to kill Jaqlyn first chance he got.”

This startled me to some degree.“He actually said that?”

“Oh, yes,” said Jack. “He said a lot more, too, but most of that were swear words, and I don’t like to repeat them to two nice and polite cats such as yourselves.”

“That’s very kind of you, Jack,” said Dooley appreciatively.

“Don’t mention it. One does what one can to spread a little sweetness and light in the world, and repeating bad words isn’t part of that endeavor.”

“So… do you think Barney went ahead and did as he promised?” I asked, crossing my fingers and hoping Jack wouldn’t suddenly go all reticent on us. Some pets are like that, especially dogs. They’ll defend their humans regardless of the laws of man.

“I doubt it,” said Jack. “Barney is all talk and little action. Most people who curse a lot are. They release tension by cursing, whereas people who never say a bad word but bottle it all up inside? They’re the ones you have to watch out for. They’re the ones who suddenly explode and slaysix in a homicidal frenzy.”

I gulped a little, and so did Dooley.“You seem to know a lot about the subject,” I said.

“Barney and I watch a lot of crime shows,” the dog said with a smile that lifted his hairy beard and mustache. “Seated side by side on the big couch we watch crime shows every night.”

“You like your human a lot, don’t you?” I said.

“Oh, sure, I love the guy. Barney is a little rough around the edges maybe, but he’s got a heart of gold. Dogs can sense it when humans have their hearts in the right place. But then I guess cats can, too.” He gave me an earnest look. “You probably knew the moment you heard the news whetheryour human was guilty or innocent, didn’t you? I don’t mean Odelia, but her dad. Pets have a way of figuring this stuff out long before the cops do. Am I right or am I right?”

I felt a little ashamed to admit that I had no idea whether Tex was guilty or not.

“I think he wanted to kill Jaqlyn a little bit but he didn’t know his own strength,” said Dooley, subscribing to Brutus’s theory.

“And what about you, Max? What do you think?” asked Jack. “Innocent or guilty?”

“I… I honestly don’t know,” I said. “I mean, can’t a person be good and still do a bad thing?”

“You mean by accident? Sure. We all do stupid things from time to time. But deep down I think you know,” he said now, tapping me on the chest. “Just look into your heart, Max. The truth is right there.”

And with these words, the philosophical Schnauzer with the distinctly shaped hairy facial features trotted off in the direction of his human, to go and sit by the man’s side.

Barney, when he became aware of his dog’s presence, picked him up into his arms. Jack gave the man’s face a lick and I found myself wondering about the dog’s words.

Did I know, deep down inside, whether Tex was guilty or not? I closed my eyes for a moment, and tried to sense what I was feeling. But nothing came. As far as I could tell it really was a toss-up. Though I sure hoped Tex was innocent.

When I opened my eyes again I saw to my surprise that Dooley was looking pained. His face was screwed up and he looked as if he was going through a particularly painful and unsuccessful bowel movement.

“Dooley?” I asked. “Are you all right?”

He blinked and gave me a sad look.“I can’t do it, Max. I can’t make it work.”

“You need to drink more,” I said. “Drink plenty of liquids and everything will come out just fine.”

“What will come out fine?”

“Well, your, um, stool.”

“Oh, my stool is fine,” he assured me. “It’s just that I tried to do as Jack suggested and look into my heart but it doesn’t work. All I see when I close my eyes is darkness. Did it work for you?”

“You don’t literally have to look into your heart,” I said with a laugh. “That’s impossible. You have to look with your mind’s eye.”

“My mind has an eye?” he asked, surprised, and glanced up as if searching for this elusive eye.

I saw that in my attempt to explain a tough concept I’d made things even more complicated, so instead I said, “Just try to feel what’s inside. Do you think that Tex is guilty or not?”

“Oh, but I already did that. Of course he’s guilty. But the most important thing is that we shouldn’t be too hard on him. After all, he killed Jaqlyn for all the right reasons.”

I groaned.“There are no right reasons to justify murder, Dooley. None.”

“There are if the person is really nasty, like Jaqlyn,” he argued.

“No, there aren’t.”

“Are you sure? Not even a little?”

“Not even a teensy tiny bit.”

It was obvious I’d given him some food for thought, for as I scoured the street in search of other witnesses to the recent and tragic events, he lapsed into silence.

“All right,” he said at length, “but I’m still going to keep liking Tex. No matter what he did.”

“Fair enough,” I said, and saw that a flock of birds were positioned in a nearby tree.

Time to bring out the inner diplomat.

Chapter 29

Odelia saw how Sarah Flunk walked away from Mayor Butterwick, closing the little notebook officers of the law consider part of their basic equipment, and decided to consult with her first.

Sarah, a red-haired and freckle-faced cop, seemed reluctant to talk to her, though, and Odelia could hardly blame her. The suspect in this case was, after all, Odelia’s own father, and Sarah probably felt she wasn’t exactly the most objective person in the world.

“Hey, Sarah,” she said.

“Odelia,” said Sarah, a little nervously.

“Um… Look, I know things aren’t looking too good for my dad right now, but I’m hoping you’ll keep an open mind and consider other possibilities.”

“I’d say the chances of your father being the guilty party here are almost one hundred percent,” said Sarah, making her position perfectly clear from the get-go.

“Oh, I know,” said Odelia. “And frankly my first impulse was to believe he did it, too. But…”

Gran had joined her, and said,“Tex is innocent. And you can quote me on that.”

Sarah rolled her eyes.“Really, Vesta, I think you better leave the police work to the police and stay out of this investigation. And that goes for you, too, Odelia. It’s never a good idea for family members to insert themselves into an active investigation.”

“Well, like it or not, I’m inserting myself to the hilt,” said Vesta. “And now tell me, Officer Flunk, what have you found out so far? And don’t even think about pooh-poohing me. You know I’m going to find out anyway by pestering my son. So start talking.”

Sarah, who clearly felt she was in an impossible situation, decided to choose the path of least resistance.“Okay. So I talked to pretty much everyone present, and they all say the same thing: one minute Jaqlyn was there, and the next he was gone. No one saw where he went off to, though.”

“Did you talk to the wife?” asked Gran. “Or the mistress?”

“Mistress?” asked Sarah with a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious? Jaqlyn was having an affair with Monica Chanting, and his wife found out about it. So obviously Francine had a strong motive to give her husband a whack across the adulterous noodle.”

“I don’t know…” Sarah began.

“Well, I do. Now go and do your job and talk to Francine. Ask her point blank about the affair and you’ll see that I’m right.”

Still frowning, Sarah walked off, scribbling something in her notebook. Probably a reminder to herself to steer clear of Gran and Odelia as much as humanly possible for the next foreseeable future.

“Clueless,” said Gran. “That’s what these people are. Looks like it’s up to us to clear your dad’s name, honey. Come on.”

Odelia followed her grandmother, a little trepidatious the old lady would lead her into more trouble than it was worth. Then again, wasn’t justice for her dad worth all the trouble she could get in?

Mayor Charlene Butterwick stood texting on her phone when they joined her. She looked up, and seemed as displeased with their company as Sarah had been.

“I think you better go home,” she suggested. “Nothing for you to do here now.”

“We’re not going home until we’ve caught Jaqlyn’s killer,” said Gran.

“But we already caught Jaqlyn’s killer,” said Charlene, a look of confusion on her face.

“Tex is innocent,” said Gran. “So you better throw your mind back to the party and tell us when was the last time you saw Jaqlyn.”

Charlene barked an incredulous laugh.“You’re not seriously suggesting I killed Jaqlyn?”

“I’m seriously suggesting you reframe the situation and consider the possibility that someone other than my son-in-law killed the guy,” said Gran. “Now talk, or I’m never voting for you again, and I’ll tell all my friends to do the same thing.”

Like any politician, Charlene lived by the grace of her voters, and the prospect of the entire senior citizen community of Hampton Cove voting for the other guy or gal at the next election quickly decided her.“Well, as far as I can tell Jaqlyn spent considerable time inside the house with Monica. At least that’s what one of the waiters told me. He says that he saw Jaqlyn and Monica going up the stairs a little while before he went missing, and he says he could hear them arguing all the way down to the lobby.”

“Arguing?” asked Odelia. “What were they arguing about?”

“The waiter says he couldn’t hear their exact words, but it sounded serious.”

“We need to talk to Monica,” said Gran. “She’ll be able to tell us.”

“Look, this isn’t right,” said Charlene. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We’re the only ones standing between Tex and a miscarriage of justice, Charlene,” said Gran. “So we are doing this, and you better get on board or else.”

As they walked away, Odelia said,“Maybe you shouldn’t go around antagonizing people like that, Gran. Charlene Butterwick isn’t a bad person. In fact she’s probably the best mayor this town has had in years.”

“I know she’s a fine mayor,” said Gran. “But she’s jumping to conclusions where Tex is concerned, and I simply can’t have that. Now where is this Monica woman?”

They’d reached the house, where Monica had been treated for that scratch on her face, but as far as they could tell she was nowhere to be found. And then Odelia spotted her, seated on the same garden bench she and Mom had vacated earlier.

They quickly walked over and took a seat on either side of her. Monica looked startled by this ambush.“What do you want?” were the first words out of her mouth.

Maybe Gran was right, Odelia suddenly thought. No one would give them the time of day willingly, attributing some of the blame that now squarely fell on Tex to Tex’s family. It was simple psychology, and Gran’s crudeness cut right through that newly established bias.

“Tell us about your fight with Jaqlyn,” said Gran. “We know you and him were having an affair so don’t even bother denying.”

“How do you…” Monica pressed her lips together. “Look, I didn’t have anything to do with Jaqlyn’s death, all right? So if you’re trying to find some scapegoat so you can get your dad off, it’s not going to work.”

“I’m not trying to find a scapegoat,” Odelia assured the woman. “I just want to know what happened, that’s all.”

Monica eyed her for a moment, then said,“Okay, fine. Jaqlyn and I were having an affair. Only for him it was just that, an affair. For me it was the beginning of something more. An actual relationship. I’d told him I wanted to divorce my husband and put what Jaqlyn and I had on a serious footing, and I expected the same from him. Only he was reluctant to tell his wife. So I said I’d tell her if he wasn’t going to. He didn’t like that.”

“Was that what the fight was about?” asked Gran.

Monica nodded.“I said this was his last chance. If he didn’t tell his wife today I was breaking up with him. He said he needed more time, and I said I’d waited long enough.”

“How long had the affair been going on?” asked Odelia.

“Two months. I thought he was serious, but obviously he wasn’t. At least not as serious as I was. So I broke up with him and walked out. I didn’t see him after that. And then suddenly you told us you’d found him… dead.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she took out a handkerchief to dab them away.

“You’re sure you didn’t take a swing at him yourself?” asked Gran.

Monica sat up straighter.“How can you even ask me that? Of course I didn’t take a swing at him. I loved him. I would never—”

“You loved him but he didn’t love you back. Is that how it was?”

“I think he did love me, in his own way.”

“Obviously he didn’t love you enough.”

“No, obviously not,” said Monica quietly. “Look, if you’re looking for a person to blame, why don’t you talk to Francine? She clearly knew about the affair, and was livid.”

“Where did you go after you left Jaqlyn?” asked Odelia, feeling the need to be thorough now that her dad’s future was at stake.

“I needed to cool off, so I went downstairs and sat in the living room for a while.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Yeah, plenty of people saw me. Waiters were passing to and from the kitchen all the time. Ask them. They can confirm I never moved from that spot until I felt composed enough to walk out and face the world again.”

“She sounded plausible,” said Gran as they left Monica and went in search of Francine Jones. “I don’t think she did it.”

“It’ll be easy enough to verify her alibi,” said Odelia. “Plenty of waitstaff were around.”

They found Francine in front of the house, staring at the activity of cops and forensic people engaged in collecting evidence. A tent had been placed around Odelia’s dad’s car, which was now officially a crime scene.

“Francine, hi,” said Odelia.

“Oh, God,” said Francine in a low voice. She seemed as unhappy to see them as their other correspondents.

“Can we ask you a couple of questions?”

“No, you can’t,” said Francine brusquely. “You’re not cops, and I don’t want to talk to the daughter of the man who killed my husband,” she snapped, and made to walk away.

But Gran grabbed her unceremoniously by the arm and said,“Not so fast, missy. First off, Tex didn’t kill anyone—he’s as much the victim here as your husband. And secondly, if I were a betting woman I’d pay good odds that you’re the one who hit your husband over the head.”

Francine uttered a startled yelp and tried to wrench her arm free. In vain. Vesta might look like a little old lady, but she had a surprisingly strong grip, and her bony fingers now dug deeply into the flesh of the widow’s arm.

“Let go of me, you horrible woman!” Francine cried.

“Not before you tell me about the affair your husband was having with Monica Chanting. When did you find out—and don’t lie to me.”

“I–I’ve known for weeks,” said Francine finally, and Gran let go. She rubbed the tender spot. “Jaqlyn left his phone at home one morning, and I noticed right away it wasn’t his usual one. I didn’t even know he’d gotten a second phone. When it started beeping with messages I couldn’t resist the temptation to take a peek. They were all WhatsApp messages from that horrible woman.”

“And I’ll bet she wasn’t the first one either.”

Francine cast down her eyes.“No, she wasn’t. Jaqlyn has always had trouble with fidelity, but I still loved him. He… he promised me the last time it happened that I was the only one for him. That these other women meant nothing. And I believed him.”

“But this time was different.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I think so. He seemed more serious. More invested in the relationship. And it lasted much longer than his usual flings.”

“So you did what you had to do and confronted him.”

“I was going to, yes, but Tex never gave me the chance,” she said with an angry frown.

“Look, I can understand you think that way, but I can promise you that Tex didn’t do this,” said Gran, with conviction.

Francine seemed to waver.“But… if he didn’t do it, then who did?”

“We already talked to Monica,” said Odelia. “She has a solid alibi.”

“How did you know I was thinking of her?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Gran. “Your husband wasn’t prepared to commit to her, so she had every reason to be upset with him.”

“Jaqlyn wasn’t going to divorce me?” Francine asked feebly.

“No, I don’t think he was. And I wonder why,” said Gran, narrowing her eyes at the woman. She was like a dog with a bone, not letting go until she got what she wanted.

“I…” Francine shook herself, then said, “Look, I haven’t told the police, but…” She gave Gran a searching look. “How sure are you that Tex didn’t kill my husband?”

“One hundred percent. Tex is not a killer.”

Francine nodded slowly.“I like Tex. He did me a big favor the other day. Well, the thing is… When we married, I was the one with the money. Or more precisely, my family.”

“Was?”

“Yes, Jaqlyn managed to squander almost all of it. Gambled it away. My husband, Mrs. Muffin, had a serious gambling problem. It’s the reason we had to move away from New Hampshire, and start a new life elsewhere. He made a good living over there, but even with the income he had he still managedto lose everything and most of my inheritance, too. He even lost our house and got in trouble with some local loan sharks. I… I’m afraid they may have found us and settled their score.”

Chapter 30

“Look, Tex, there’s no reason to hold out,” said Chase. He and the father of the woman he loved were ensconced inside interview room number one, where they’d sat for the past hour, and frankly he was growing a little weary.

It is never pleasant for a police officer to be forced to handcuff and drag to prison the man whose daughter’s hand one day he hopes to ask in marriage, but it’s even worse when that man steadfastly refuses to tell him the truth. Not fair, Chase meant to say.

“I didn’t do it,” Tex said not for the first time. “I didn’t like Jaqlyn, but I wasn’t going to murder the man.”

“You told your wife you were considering drastic measures. Radical solutions.”

“I meant taking my music career to the next level! Taking the Singing Doctors national!”

“His body was found in the trunk of your car, Tex,” Chase pointed out. “How else do you explain it got there unless you put it there?”

“I can’t!”

“Look, isn’t it possible you killed him in a fit of rage and then blanked it all out?”

“It’s possible,” Tex conceded. “I mean, theoretically such a scenario is certainly conceivable, but I don’t have any recollection of blanking out.”

“Well, you wouldn’t, would you?”

“I doubt it,” said Tex. “It’s not as if I have a history of blanking out.”

“How much did you have to drink?” asked Chase, deciding to try a different tack.

“One or two glasses maybe. They kept topping up, so it’s hard to know for sure.”

“And how well do you hold your liquor?”

Tex rolled his eyes.“Youknow how well I hold my liquor, Chase. Oh, come on, this is ridiculous! Why am I even here? You know as well as I do that I’m not a killer.”

Chase sat back.“All I know is that you were overheard threatening Jaqlyn a couple of nights ago in a public meeting. Heck, you were even recorded.” He placed his phone on the table and pressed play on a recording he’d found on the Soul Science website. They’d cleaned up the audio and Tex could clearly be seen and heard calling Jaqlyn a number of extremely opprobrious names.

Tex had the decency to look shamefaced.“Oh, God,” he groaned, dragging his hands through his hair. “I said all that, didn’t I?”

“And you meant it,” Chase pointed out. “I was there, and so were a couple of dozen other witnesses. And they’ll all gladly testify in court as to your state of mind and the animosity you harbored towards your future victim, Jaqlyn Jones.”

“Isaid I didn’t like him, didn’t I? I’m not ashamed to admit it. But kill him? Never.”

“Jaqlyn organized a concerted effort to drag your name through the mud,” said Chase, moving to the next point on the agenda. “He told several people you never finished medical school. That you got your degree from an online college located in Timbuktu and that you had to resort to dissecting vermin to get some practice after you were kicked out of college for plagiarism and exam fraud and generally being the worst student possible. He told some of your patients you were accused of involuntary manslaughter after you killed a patient through sheer incompetence but paid off certain people up top and managed to get the whole thing hushed up.”

“What?!” Tex cried, looking flabbergasted.

“He also said you had a drinking problem, causing your hands to shake uncontrollably and that you had a history of messing up the dosages on your prescriptions. Oh, and he suggested you only employed Vesta because no one else would work with you, as you were prone to volcanic outbursts of rage and had at one point trashed your office.” He looked up, and found that Tex sat staring at him, mouth agape.

“He said all that? No wonder my patients left me in droves.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t know?”

“Of course! This is the first I’m hearing about this. I had noticed former patients of mine were avoiding me, crossing the street when they saw me coming. But I just figured they were embarrassed to meet me after switching doctors. If I’d known Jaqlyn was conducting this slanderous… this terrible… thishorrendous…”

Chase leaned a little closer.“What would you have done if you found out?”

“I’d have beaned him!” Tex burst out, then realized what he’d said and clasped a hand before his mouth. “I… maybe I should talk to a lawyer,” he finished sedately.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Chase conceded.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]

It’s always a tough proposition for a cat to interview a bird. Birds, as a rule, don’t like cats. It probably has something to do with the fact that birds have been on cats’ menu for the past fifteen million years or so. And no matter how much I try to convince them that I’m not that kind of cat, my words are still met with a certain level of incredulity.

“Hi, there,” I said now, employing the most genial and unthreatening tone in my arsenal.

The birds, all half a dozen of them, didn’t respond. Birds tend to travel in packs, and these birds were no different.

“Hi birds,” said Dooley, smiling a pleasant smile and also showcasing his best behavior. “Mind if we ask you a couple of questions, birds?”

But the birds were clearly not having any of this, and retained a dignified silence.

“The thing is, our human has recently been accused of murder,” I explained, deciding to trudge ahead regardless, as a good detective does. “And we were wondering if you kind birds might have seen something. It happened right there,” I said, indicating Tex’s car, parked right across the street, though now obscured from view by that white tent.

“Is it true that birds like to eat worms?” asked Dooley, suddenly going off script.

“Dooley, now is not the time for this,” I said. “Let’s stick to our main topic.”

“Yeah, but I figured since we’re here anyway, and so are they…”

“Who cares about worms?”

“I care. I can’t imagine how anyone could eat a worm, and I just wondered if these nice birds could offer me an insider’s view.”

“Worms are very nutritious,” suddenly one of the birds spoke. He was probably the leader, as he was the fattest bird of the lot. They were all sparrows, if I wasn’t mistaken, and as a rule sparrows are pretty small, but this one was slightly less small than his ilk.

“That’s what I keep hearing,” said Dooley, pleased at the opportunity to worm information out of a bird. “But are they tasty? They don’t look tasty. In fact they look yucky.”

“Oh, they’re very tasty,” the bird confirmed. “And juicy, too.”

“I wouldn’t say all worms are juicy,” another bird piped up. “Some of them are leathery. Like a shoe sole.”

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it,” said a third bird. “I had one of those last week. Terrible. Messed up my colon something nasty.”

“So is it true you simply gobble them up whole, without chewing?” asked Dooley, fascinated by the turn the conversation had taken.

“Dooley!” I said.

“I’m curious!” he said.

“That’s where the gizzard comes in,” said the leader bird. “The secret is in the gizzard. But why do you ask? Are you interested in starting a worm-based diet?”

“Oh, no way,” said Dooley, horrified by the mere suggestion. “But I find it fascinating to find out more about the eating habits of different species. You see, I watch a lot of the Discovery Chanel? And nothing beats a personal testimony like yours, Mr. Bird.”

“Mrs. Bird,” she corrected him.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bird,” he said quickly.

“Now about this murder business,” she said. “I’m sorry to say we only arrived at the scene after the whole thing was over, but we did see an altercation take place shortly before, one street over.”

“An altercation?” I asked, perking up.

“Yes, between the man who now resides in the trunk of that there car and another man. They were speaking very loudly and motioning animatedly.”

“Who was this other man?” I asked, hanging on this worm-eating creature’s every word.

“I don’t know his name, of course, but he was short.”

“Tall,” said another bird.

“Fat,” piped up another.

“Skinny,’” determined yet another.

“Red-haired,” said number five.

“Blond,” opined bird six.

“Um…” I said. “So he was tall and short, fat and skinny, red-hairedand blond?”

“Don’t listen to them,” said the leading sparrow. “He was short, squat and floppy-haired and for some reason he had the word Jason tattooed across his cheek.”

I shared an excited look with Dooley.

“Jason Blowhard!” we both cried simultaneously.

Chapter 31

Marge had gone down to the station house to see her husband, the jailbird. She encountered an immovable object in the shape of her own brother.

“No, you can’t see him, Marge,” said Alec. “He’s a murder suspect, and the only one that can see him right now is his lawyer, which he doesn’t have. Yet.”

She planted her hands on her hips and gave her brother the look of a woman who wasn’t going to be messed with. A woman who’d once discovered a stack of dirty magazines under her brother’s bed and had proceeded to hand them to their mother and ask what the people in those magazines were doing. Alec had been grounded for the rest of the summer. ‘I did it once, I can do it again,’ her look seemed to say. Alec wilted.

“Alec Lip,” she now said, her voice brooking no nonsense. “You listen to me and you listen good. You and Tex are practically brothers. In fact it’s not an exaggeration to say that he’s the brother you never had. You certainly love him like a brother, don’t you?”

“Why, yes, I do, but—”

“And you’re going to stand there and tell me he can’t even receive a visit from his own wife—your sister? Shame on you.”

“But—”

“Shame on you!”

Alec sighed. It was obvious he was thinking how hard it is to be a cop in times like these, when your own relatives start beaning people they don’t like with baseball bats—aluminum or otherwise—and having wives that just happen to be your younger sister.

“I can’t, Marge. If Mayor Butterwick found out she’d have my badge.”

They were standing in the police precinct lobby, and Dolores Peltz, who combined desk sergeant duties with dispatch tasks, had pricked up her ears and was drinking in every single word of the back-and-forth between brother and sister. Free entertainment, she seemed to consider this minor showdown. Better thanGrey’s Anatomy.

“Who cares what Charlene Butterwick thinks! He’s my husband and I want to see him. Now!”

“What’s all this screaming and shouting?” asked Charlene Butterwick, walking in just then. “Hi, Marge. Chief. Dolores.”

“Hi, Madam Mayor,” said Dolores, eyes gleaming. Now this was going to be good, that gleam seemed to say. This was stuff Shonda Rhimes couldn’t come up with if she tried.

“I want to see my husband and this man,” said Marge, pointing an imperious finger at her brother, “is telling me I can’t. Because he’s afraid of you!” she added, redirecting that same accusing finger at the Mayor.

“It’s fine, Alec,” said the Mayor. “Let her see her husband.”

“Madam Mayor?” asked Alec, surprised.

“I said let her through. I’m starting to think this whole case isn’t as open and shut as I first thought. Did you know that Jaqlyn was having an affair with Monica Chanting?”

“Um…” said Alec, who clearly didn’t.

“Or that Jaqlyn had huge gambling debts and practically had to flee loan shark enforcers in New Hampshire? Who may or may not have tracked him down here? And that Francine Jones had recently discovered his affair and wasn’t too happy about it?”

“See?” said Marge triumphantly. “You arrested my husband without a second thought, and now you’re going to have to let him go.”

“It’s not as simple as that, Marge,” said the Mayor. “The victim’s body was found in your husband’s car, and he was overheard directing verbal threats at the man. There’s dozens of witnesses, and the whole thing is on the internet for everyone to see. So…” She took off her glassesand carefully started polishing them with the hem of her blouse. “I think it’s best if we hand this over to the state police and let them figure it out.”

“The state police!” Alec cried. “But, Charlene!”

“He’s your brother-in-law, Alec!” said Charlene. “And the lead detective in the case is dating the man’s daughter. No, this case will be handled the way it should be handled. Which is by the book. I talked to the Assistant DA and he agrees this is all for the best. So you’re off the case, and so is Chase, and as soon as we can arrange transport, Tex Poole will be taken to a holding facility, awaiting arraignment.”

Marge, who’d hoped to find an ally in Charlene, saw the chances of a quick release of her husband suddenly being reduced to zero.

“You can’t do this,” she said. “You just told us there are other suspects.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want sentimentality or family bonds or whatever to mess up this investigation. Now do you want to see your husband or not?”

“Yes, I do,” said Marge, and followed the Mayor and Alec inside, leaving Dolores to pick up her phone so she could gleefully start WhatsApping the news all around town.

Who needed a newspaper when they had Dolores?

Once inside, Marge was admitted into a small room, and moments later her husband was led in. He was still dressed in the same outfit he’d worn at the garden party, though he already looked a little worse for wear. There were smudges on his best Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and the collar was upturned, touching his left ear. He looked dazed and confused, but when he caught sight of Marge, his expression changed into a happy smile.

“Honey, you came all the way here!” he said, as if he were on Alcatraz and Marge had had to pay the ferryman to brave the churning and shark-infested seas to get there.

“Things aren’t looking too good for you right now,” said Marge, knowing she didn’t have a lot of time allotted for this visit and wanting to convey as much information as she could. She was also aware curious eyes were watching them through the one-way mirror.

“Not too good is an understatement,” said Tex, as they shared a warm hug. “I didn’t do it, honey. At least not to my recollection. Chase seems to think I had a blackout or lapse of judgment and might not remember, so there’s always that to take into account.”

“It’s all going to be fine,” said Marge warmly, glad to see him. “Ma and Odelia have taken your case in hand and are interviewing witnesses and tracking down suspects.”

“Your mother?” said Tex, clearly taken aback to find Vesta of all people in his corner.

“She’s been amazing,” Marge gushed. “You should see the way she bulldozes her way through a pack of reluctant witnesses. I think the world missed out on a great detective.”

“How about Odelia?” Tex asked eagerly. “What does she think happened?”

Marge hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her husband both she and Odelia actually thought he was guilty. Not great for his morale. Or those prying eyes watching them now. So instead she said, “Odelia has become a real champion for justice to prevail.”

“Then everything will be all right,” said Tex. “If Odelia is on the case, I don’t have to worry about a thing. She’ll catch the real killer.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Unless I did do it, of course. In which case she’s going to look really silly. And so is Vesta.”

“Don’t say things like that, Tex,” Marge said, and darted a glance at that darned one-way mirror. “Don’t say anything to incriminate yourself. Better yet, from now on don’t say a single word without a lawyer.”

“Can you get me one?” he asked, like a child asking for a lollypop.

“I’m working on it,” she said. “But until then, don’t talk to anyone.”

“Not even Chase or your brother?”

Her expression hardened.“Especially them. These people are not your friends, Tex.”

“But they’re my family.”

“No, they’re not,” she insisted. “The only family you’ve got is me and Odelia and my mother. My brother and Chase are dead to us from now on. You understand?Dead.”

And to make sure her words registered, she directed a pointed look at that mirror.

She could almost hear the glugging sound her brother made as he gulped at her harsh words and choked on his fat forked tongue.

Chapter 32

For Kingman this was the first time he was playing detective, officially sanctioned by Max himself, Hampton Cove’s premier feline sleuth. And he had to admit it was a lot tougher than he’d anticipated.

He’d thought that as soon as he started on his quest for clues, the little suckers would start filing in and report for duty, one after the other.

Instead, he discovered that the problem wasn’t a dearth of clues but an abundance! Clue after clue came flying at him and he had a hard time distinguishing between the really vital ones and the ones that could safely be called duds and were to be discarded.

For instance smack out of the gate he saw that a waiter was eating his own hors d’oeuvres, furtively glancing around as he did. Suspicious, Kingman felt. Portentous, even. Could this man be the killer? Very likely, Kingman felt. But then he saw a second waiter, a female one this time, smoking a cigarette and talking into her phone.

“I know I shouldn’t have done it, Dad, but he made me,” she was saying.

Kingman’s heart skipped a couple of beats. Here it was: a real confession! Straight from the horse’s mouth—or in this case the killer’s!

“What was I supposed to do, Dad? The man simply left me no choice!”

Kingman was listening with bated breath, his eyes having gone a little pop-eyed. He had to tell Max. He had to tell him to call off the hunt, for Kingman had solved the case!

“Okay, so next time I’ll tell Mario I already made other arrangements. No, I’m not going to tell him I was supposed to head down to Southampton to visit Gran this weekend.” She smiled. “If only he paid better, I wouldn’t mind so much, but the man is the stingiest caterer I know.”

Kingman could almost hear the sound of a record scratch, and gave the waitress in question an offended look. Not fair, he felt. Making him think she was the killer when all the while she was talking about such mundane matters as having to work the weekend.

Still, Kingman wasn’t the kind of cat who gave up without a fight, and so he resumed his sleuthing. He quickly found himself searching out the company of his own human, Wilbur Vickery, who stood conferring with Father Reilly. Both men were standing right next to the drinks table and were helping themselves to the late Jaqlyn Jones’s liquor stash, casually refilling their glasses without the inconvenience of an officiating waiter. Then again, Father Reilly was probably used to serving himself, and so was Wilbur.

“I don’t believe for one second that Tex killed Jaqlyn,” said Wilbur. “I’ve known Tex for years, and the guy just doesn’t have it in him to commit murder. It takes a special kind of person to kill a man in cold blood, and believe you me, Tex Poole is not that person.”

“Oh, I think you’re absolutely right, Wilbur,” said the priest, slurring his words a little. “But I also think you’re wrong.”

“How do you figure that?” asked Wilbur, whose eyes were distinctly unfocused. “I mean, he either did it or he didn’t do it, if you see what I mean.”

“He did it… and he didn’t do it,” Father Reilly specified, continuing to fog the issue. “Why don’t I explain myself?”

“Please do, father.”

“Tex Poole was a mere instrument of the devil, my dear Wilbur. He didn’t want to kill Jaqlyn, but the devil took possession and made him raise his hand against a fellow man.”

“The devil, eh? Nasty piece of work, that one,” Wilbur concurred.

“He most certainly is. And wily. Extremely wily. And I think it’s plain to see who the real culprit is in this case.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, and both Wilbur and Kingman leaned in. “Omar Carter.”

“Omar Carter?” asked Wilbur, as if hearing that name for the first time.

“Omar Carter,” Father Reilly confirmed.

“Oh, Omar Carter!” said Wilbur.

“One and the same. He and Jaqlyn Jones must have fallen out, and so Omar decided to get rid of him—shut him up before he could spill all of Omar’s dirty little secrets.”

“So…” Wilbur swayed a little, like a willow in the breeze. “So what you’re saying…”

“What I’m saying is that Omar took possession of poor Tex and used him like a tool.”

“Tex Poole, Omar’s tool…”

“Satan never leaves home without donning a disguise, my dear Wilbur. In this case he ever so cunningly disguised himself as the leader of a new cult named Soul Science.”

Wilbur took a long and galvanizing gulp from his glass. Things were getting a little complicated for him.“So… Omar is Satan, who killed Jaqlyn because… why, exactly?”

“Because Jaqlyn had decided to leave the fold. Never leave the fold, Wilbur!”

“Never leave the fold,” Wilbur echoed.

“Leave the fold and die.”

“But I don’t want to die,” Wilbur intimated.

Kingman’s head was swimming. So now Omar was the killer? But how? And why? This was getting trickier and trickier. And he now wished he had one of those notebooks detectives like to carry on their person. If he didn’t write down this abundance of clues and hypotheses he was likely to forget one or twoof the more spectacular ones.

He moved on from his master and his master’s cohort, and decided to take a little break to gather his thoughts and draw some preliminary conclusions. In detective shows the lead detective always gets a brainwave at some point, and tells himself, ‘But of course! Why didn’t I see this sooner!’ This invariably comes on the heels of that crucial moment of personal crisis when he frowns to himself in utter confusion and mutters to his loyal but goofy sidekick, ‘There’s something I’m not seeing. Something I missed…’

Kingman felt he was at the latter stage: he was missing something. He sincerely hoped the final stage would soon be upon him: the lightbulb stage.

And he was sitting and thinking when two men approached. They were both heavyset, with the kind of square and pockmarked faces only a mother could love.

“You shouldn’t have done it, Mike,” said one of the men, addressing his friend.

“How could I have known he was gonna drop dead on us?” said the other reasonably.

“Just don’t tell Francine, will you? She’ll never forgive us.”

“She should thank us.”

“You know what she’s like. Even though the guy was scum, she still stood by him.”

“Something I’ll never understand.”

“Well, she’s finally rid of him.”

“And good riddance, too.”

Suddenly a woman came walking up, and smiled at the sight of the twosome.“Mike and Kenny—you guys still here? I thought you left already.”

“We couldn’t leave now, Francine,” said the man named Mike. “Leaving you to cope with the cops all by yourself? Never.”

“Are the police still out there?” asked Kenny.

Francine nodded, her smile disappearing.“They just took away Jaqlyn’s… body.” She stifled a sob, and Mike took her into a hug, quickly joined by Kenny.

“It’s gonna be all right,” said Mike a little gruffly. “Your big brothers are here for you.”

“What would I do without you guys?” said Francine, sniffling.

“That’s what family is for, little sis,” said Kenny.

Kingman had a hard time controlling the wealth of emotions welling up in his bosom.

But of course! Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?! Francine’s two brothers had killed Jaqlyn to protect their sister from the man’s shenanigans! Eureka! He’d solved the case!

Chapter 33

Harriet was a cat with a mission. She had the feeling she’d made a complete fool of herself with the Soul Science thing, both in the eyes of her housemates and her friends, and she now felt the strong urge to redeem herself by solving this particular crime.

“We have to find who did it, Brutus,” she said therefore. “It’s very important to me.”

“And we will, twinkle toes,” her partner in life and sleuthing said.

They’d been roaming Jaqlyn and Francine Jones’s backyard for a while now, but so far no clues had fallen into their laps, so to speak.

“I can’t go back to Odelia empty-handed, sugar bear,” she said, continuing to develop her theme. “So promise me we won’t go home until we’ve caught the killer, sweetums.”

“We won’t go home until we catch the killer, baby cakes,” said Brutus, though not wholeheartedly, she felt.

It wasn’t merely her reputation that was at stake here, but also the future of Tex, that wonderful human who’d selflessly taken care of them for all those years. After all, if it hadn’t been for Tex, none of them would have a home to begin with. It was Tex, with his quiet support and kindhearted generosity, who had made it possible for Odelia and Marge and Vesta to adopt no less than four cats in the first place, and offer them the kind of life to which they’d now become accustomed.

And as Harriet let her eyes dart across the faces of the dozens of people still roaming about, and still filling their bellies with the dead man’s food and drink, she suddenly caught sight of a familiar face and grumbled, “Stop me before I do something to that cat, Brutus. Stop me now,” she repeated when Brutus made no attempts to stop her now.

Shanille had caught sight of her, too, and gave her the kind of supercilious look she’d perfected since rising through the ranks of Master Sharif’s feline following.

“Harriet,” Shanille said coldly as they passed each other by.

“Shanille,” said Harriet, adopting an equally icy tone.

“Nice to see you.”

“Likewise.”

After a final frosty glance, they both sailed on.

“Stop you from doing what, cuddle cakes?” asked Brutus, late to the party as usual.

“Oh, Brutus,” Harriet sighed, and headed straight for the food table. She was in urgent need of a pick-me-up, and besides, a sleuth was like a shark: they never stopped moving.

And it was as she neared the refreshments table that she saw that the waiters, still out in full force in spite of the recent tragedy, had placed the remnants of what had once been a fish dish on the ground behind the table. She smiled, momentarily forgetting all about clues and killers, and took a tentative nibble. Approving of the offered treat, she settled down to do some real damage, quickly joined by Brutus, happy for this respite.

Next to them, two humans had taken up position, and were talking quietly amongst themselves. They were an older man with a gray buzz cut and a red and veiny bulbous nose, and a young woman with a blond bob, cornflower blue eyes and a pretty face.

“We should never have come here, Daddy,” said the young woman. “We should have simply said no.”

“It’s all right, Jenny,” said her father. “Nobody knows, and that’s how it’s gonna stay. You didn’t tell the police, did you?”

“Not a word,” Jenny assured him.

Harriet, even though distracted by the fish, which was, indeed, excellent, still had the presence of mind to turn her ears like antennae and drink in every word of the conversation.

“You should never have approached him, Daddy. And now look what happened.”

“So I lost my temper—can you blame me? He practically killed you, honey. If we hadn’t taken you to the hospital you would have died, and all because of the man’s incompetence.”

“You still didn’t have to attack him,” said Jenny. “If the police find out you’ll be in big trouble, Daddy.”

“The police aren’t going to find out. I made sure there were no witnesses, and Jaqlyn sure as heck isn’t going to tell anyone now. He’s dead.”

“Oh, Daddy,” said the girl. “I hope you’re right. I can’t lose you now.”

“And you won’t. I promise.”

They walked off, and Harriet gave her boyfriend an excited prod.“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Brutus, munching on a piece of fish, his eyes closed with relish.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear Jenny and her dad!”

“Jenny who?”

“Oh, Brutus—I just solved Jaqlyn’s murder and you didn’t even pay attention!”

“I’m paying attention now, my sweet love sponge,” he said, opening his eyes and glancing around. “So who is this Jenny person?”

Under normal circumstances Harriet would have been displeased that her boyfriend paid so little attention to her, or in this case to whatever she paid attention to, but these weren’t normal circumstances so she decided to let it go.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I solved Jaqlyn’s murder! Me!”

“Congratulations, buttercup!” said Brutus, then dug in for more fish.

Chapter 34

A big meeting had been called, and all the usual suspects were present and accounted for: Odelia, who’d called the meeting. Gran, who acted as co-chair. Marge, and of course myself, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus. We even had a guest star in the form of Kingman, who, judging from the way he kept directing a self-satisfied smirk at me, had exciting news to impart.

Absent were Tex, who had been taken away in the paddy wagon, Chase, who had been driving the paddy wagon, and Uncle Alec, who owned the paddy wagon and who was, as we speak, presumably tying Tex to the police station torture rack preparatory to applying gentle pressure until the man cracked under the strain and confessed all.

The location of the meeting was Odelia’s place, and all five cats were comfortably ensconced on the couch while Marge and Gran were seated on chairs, with Odelia standing in front of her whiteboard, waving a black marker and writing down the names of potential suspects and their possible motives.

In other words, a classic set-up. Hercule Poirot would have nodded approvingly, and so would Sherlock Holmes, Perry Mason and Nero Wolf, had any of them been present.

“Francine Jones,” Odelia said, jotting down the name of Jaqlyn’s widow. “She had recently discovered that her husband was having an affair with Monica Chanting.”

“Monica Chanting herself,” said Gran. “Who wanted the affair to blossom into a marriage but found that Jaqlyn was reluctant to tell his wife and file for divorce.”

“How about Monica’s husband Garvin Chanting?” Marge suggested. “He could have found out about his wife’s affair and decided to take matters into his hands.”

Odelia dutifully wrote down the name of Monica’s husband and his motive.

“Okay, so next we have Barney Sowman, the neighbor whose tires had been slashed by Jaqlyn, and who was involved in a dispute with the man over an access road.”

“Barney definitely had his own ideas about the murder,” I said, and reported Barney’s suggestions for a potential murder weapon. It made quite an impact on my audience, and Odelia added a red asterisk next to Barney’s name, to indicate he was a promising suspect.

“Other suggestions?” she asked now, glancing around.

Just then, the door opened and two men walked in. Reading from left to right they were none other than Chase and Uncle Alec.

Instantly, Marge was on her feet.“Oh, no!” she cried, shaking her head vehemently. “You two aren’t welcome here anymore. Out! Both of you—out! Traitors!”

“But, Marge!” said Uncle Alec, clearly taken aback.

“You arrested my husband,” said Marge, pointing an accusing finger at Chase, who looked stricken and a little scared of the woman, “andyou handed him over to the state police without batting an eye,” she added, turning that same finger on her brother, who’d gone a little white around the nostrils all of a sudden. “You’re both dead to me.Dead!”

“Mom,” said Odelia, “they were just doing their jobs. You can hardly blame them.”

“I do blame them. I blame them for robbing a good man of his freedom over some unfounded suspicions.”

“He had a body stashed in the trunk of his car!” Alec cried.

“So? That’s still no reason to arrest him.”

“Marge, settle down,” said Gran, adopting a harsh tone. “You’re acting like an idiot.”

“Oh,I’m acting like an idiot, am I?They’re the ones who are the idiots, and they’ll feel pretty stupid when they discover that Tex is innocent. And now get out of my house!”

“It’s not your house,” Gran pointed out.

“I don’t care! Out of my sight!”

“Marge Lip!” Gran bellowed suddenly, causing Marge to jump. “Shut up and sit down!”

“But—”

“Now!”

“Yes, Ma,” Marge muttered, and did as she was told.

“We’re in the middle of a family crisis and this is not the time to lose your head. We all need to work together to get Tex off the hook, and you’re not helping.”

“Yes, Ma,” said Marge dutifully.

“Chase and Alec were only doing their duty. When you’re a cop and you find a dead body in the trunk of a car, you arrest the guy who owns the car, it’s that simple. If Chase hadn’t arrested Tex, someone else would have, and Chase would have had a lot to answer for, maybe even lost his job. And the same goes for Alec. Now please let’s dispense with the drama and focus on finding the real killer. Chase—take a seat. You, too, Alec. Odelia, get on with it. We haven’t got all day.”

Everyone settled down, and Odelia took up position in front of her whiteboard again. In deference to the latecomers, she quickly reiterated the list of suspects she’d compiled so far: Francine Jones, Monica Chanting, Garvin Chanting and Barney Sowman.

“Max, you have the floor,” she said now. “What did you find out so far?”

“Well, apart from Barney’s eagerness to select a suitable murder weapon to dispense with annoying neighbors, the birds in a nearby tree said they saw Jason Blowhard and Jaqlyn Jones have a big fight on the next street shortly before Jaqlyn’s murder.”

“Jason Blowhard,” Odelia said, writing down the name on the board, and translated my words for the non-cat-speaking part of the group.

“We also discovered that some worms are not very juicy,” said Dooley helpfully. “Some are really chewy and tough to digest. But birds have a gizzard and so that helps.”

Odelia stared at him for a moment, then said,“Thank you, Dooley. Moving on…”

Harriet cleared her throat. I’d noticed she looked pleased as punch, and based on her next words she had every right to be.

“Brutus and I overheard a conversation between a man and a woman. The woman is called Jenny and the man is her father. And I think it’s pretty obvious she’s the girl who was misdiagnosed by Jaqlyn and later on was discovered to be suffering from a brain tumor. And guess what? He killed Jaqlyn! He confessed! Isn’t that right, Brutus?”

“Uh-huh,” said Brutus, not exactly providing a ringing endorsement.

“Wow,” said Gran. “Good work, Harriet and Brutus. Write that down, Odelia.”

But Odelia didn’t need her grandmother’s instructions. She was already writing down ‘Jenny’s father—revenge,’ before translating Harriet’s words for the others.

“Kingman?” asked Odelia. “You wanted to share something?”

“Oh, boy, do I have something to share!” Kingman cried, thumping his chest. “I know who did it and it wasn’t Jenny’s dad. Francine’s brothers Mike and Kenny were at the party, and they decided to have a chat with Jaqlyn about the way he was treating their little sister. Things got out of hand and they beat him to death. I heard it from their own lips!”

The moment Odelia translated Kingman’s bombshell revelation, the room erupted into an excited clamor. Now this was the goods! The only one who wasn’t impressed was Harriet. “I still think Jenny’s dad did it,” she intimated stubbornly. “Isn’t that right, Brutus?”

“Oh, sure,” said Brutus. “Jenny’s dad—no doubt about it.”

“So Mike and Kenny,” said Odelia, writing on her board. “We need to talk to them as soon as possible.”

“Well done, Kingman,” said Gran, patting the cat on the head. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” said Kingman. “Some people would call it beginner’s luck, but I think I’m simply a natural. It’s all in being discerning when gathering clues. Knowing which ones to keep and which ones to toss. For instance Father Reilly kept babbling on about how Master Omar was the one that did it, by possessing Tex and using his body like a puppet and making him do his bidding. But that’s just a lot of horse manure if you ask me.”

Odelia stared at him.“Father Reilly thinks Master Omar did it? But why?”

“Well, Father Reilly claims Jaqlyn was about to leave the fold and spill all of Master Omar’s secrets, and Omar couldn’t have that, so he shut Jaqlyn up. Permanently.”

Odelia nodded, and wrote down Master Omar’s name between brackets, just to be on the safe side. Odelia is nothing if not diligent.

“Okay, so we have plenty of suspects and plenty of alibis to check out,” she said now. “Does anyone want to add anything at this point? Any comments, thoughts, insights?”

Uncle Alec tentatively raised his hand, braving a scathing look from his sister.“Um… the state police have taken over the investigation, so officially Chase and I are both off the case. Which means we can’t interview suspects, or even come near them.”

“Yeah, they don’t trust us,” said Chase. “Being Tex’s relatives and all.”

“Well, that’s fine,” said Gran. “It just means we’ll have to clear Tex’s name ourselves. I suggest we divvy up the suspects and try and track them down. We already talked to Monica and Francine, and Monica has a solid alibi, so we can scratch her off the list.”

“I talked to Barney,” said Uncle Alec. “And my gut tells me he didn’t do it.”

“Your gut also told you to arrest my husband,” said Marge pointedly.

“Oh, Marge, please give it a rest,” said Gran. “So no Barney?”

“Barney’s dog Jack didn’t think he did it either,” I said. “He looked into his master’s heart and saw that it was pure as gold.”

“I tried to look into my heart but I couldn’t see a thing,” Dooley shared.

“Right,” said Odelia, scratching off Barney’s name as well as Monica’s. “About Francine… I don’t think she did it either. We talked to her and she didn’t strike me as a cold-blooded murderess.” She put the woman’s name between brackets. “So that leaves us with Jason Blowhard, Jenny’s dad, and Francine’s brothers Mike and Kenny.” She underlined the names of Jenny’s dad and Francine’s brothers. “These look promising.”

“And let’s not forget about the loan sharks,” said Uncle Alec. “Jaqlyn owed them a lot of money and Charlene thinks they may have followed him here.”

“No witness reports to support that theory, though,” Chase added.

“Still worth checking out,” Gran decided. “Write it down, Odelia.”

“Loan sharks,” Odelia said, adding this peculiar fauna to her impressive list.

“I’ll talk to Jenny’s dad,” said Marge. “I know Nick pretty well. I’m sure he’ll talk to me, especially with Tex being hung out to dry for a murder he didn’t commit.”

“And maybe we can go and have a chat with Francine’s brothers,” Gran suggested to her granddaughter.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Chase. “I can’t talk to witnesses but there must be something I can do.”

“You’re sitting this one out, Kingsley,” said Marge sternly. “You’re in the doghouse now. And I suggest you stay there and don’t move until I decide whether I’ll forgive you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Chase, and Odelia gave him a wink, which cheered him up considerably.

“What can we do?” I asked.

“You can join us when we interview Francine’s brothers,” said Odelia. “And Harriet and Brutus can join Mom when she talks to Jenny and her dad.”

“What about me?” asked Kingman. “I’m on fire here. So please use me, Miss Odelia.”

Odelia smiled at this.“Why don’t you go and talk to Shanille and try to pump her for information on Father Reilly and his particular views on Master Omar?”

“But… I thought that was a dead end?” said Kingman.

“A good detective follows up on every single lead,” she said, giving him a tickle behind the ears. “No matter how inconsequential, you never know what they might yield.”

“Okay, Miss Odelia!” said Kingman, well pleased with these nuggets of wisdom rolling from the detective’s lips. “I’ll pump Shanille like she’s never been pumped before!”

“Um, go easy on her, will you?” said Gran. “If I know Shanille she might not like all of this… pumping. Delicacy and tact go a long way—take it from a tactful person like me.”

All the humans present laughed at this, and Gran frowned.“What? What did I say?”

Just then, Odelia’s phone tinkled and she picked up with a cheerful, “Odelia Poole speaking.” She then glanced at the others present. “Yes, I will hold for Master Omar.”

A hush descended on the room, and Odelia switched her phone to speaker mode.

“Hi, Odelia,” said Omar. “This is Omar speaking. I heard about what happened this afternoon and I’ve decided to call an extra meeting tonight to deal with the aftermath of Jaqlyn’s death. I wanted to invite you and your family personally, considering your father seems to be embroiled in this terrible tragedy as well.”

“A special meeting?” asked Odelia.

“We’re not going!” Gran loud-whispered.

“Oh, hi there, Vesta,” said Omar. “You’re invited too, of course. Francine Jones is also coming, her brothers Mike and Kenny, Monica Chanting and her husband Garvin, Barney Sowman, Jenny and Nick Parker and, um, I have a feeling I’m forgetting someone…”

Odelia’s eyes went wide when she realized Omar had just listed all of our suspects.

“I think it will be beneficial to thresh this thing out once and for all, don’t you agree?” Omar continued. “And what better way to heal a lot of broken hearts and pain than by bringing the entire community together to commemorate that unfortunate Jaqlyn?”

“Um, I guess,” said Odelia, not entirely convinced. “So… this is a private meeting?”

“Yes, just the people I’ve mentioned and your family.”

“Are you going to film the whole thing like you always do?” asked Gran, leaning into her granddaughter’s phone and speaking with a touch of rancor.

Omar chuckled.“No, not this time, Vesta. This will be just us. So how about it?”

Odelia seemed to make up her mind.“We’ll be there,” she said.

“Good. See you later.”

“Is Scarlett coming?” asked Gran, but Omar had already disconnected. “If I see Scarlett I’m out of there,” she announced. “Like a flash.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Ma,” said Marge. “We’re in the middle of a family crisis and this is not the time to lose your head. So let’s dispense with the drama, shall we?”

Gran grumbled something that sounded a lot like,“Miss Smartypants,” but shut up.

“I hope Shanille won’t be there,” said Harriet. “If I see Shanille I’m out of there like a flash.” But when Marge raised an eyebrow in her direction she, too, shut up.

This was not the time for frail egos to thump their chests and bay like a pack of wild dogs. Now was the time to come together and save Tex from his terrible predicament.

Chapter 35

Once again we took the road down to Tavern Street to attend one of Master Omar’s meetings, only this time there weren’t as many people as before. The bodyguards were still there, scrutinizing us closely, presumably for signs of concealed weapons or bad intentions, but once we were admitted to the building the usual buzz of activity was conspicuously absent. Instead we were immediately led into the main hall, where chairs had been placed in a circle. Omar was there, officiating the proceedings, and greeting us with warmth and genuine affection, and a few participants had already taken a seat: Jason Blowhard, Francine Jones and two burly men I assumed were her brothers Mike and Kenny, Monica Chanting and husband and… Mayor Butterwick and Father Reilly!

“What are you doing here?” asked Gran as she took a seat next to the priest.

“I was invited,” said Father Reilly. “I may not always see eye to eye with the man, but when I’m cordially invited I find it rude to refuse to grace a meeting with my presence.”

“I have no idea why he invited us,” said Charlene, “but I have to confess I’m curious.”

“Welcome, welcome, one and all,” said Omar, as he gestured for everyone to take their seats. “We’re only waiting for the Parkers and Mr. Sowman and we’re complete.”

“So what’s the idea?” asked Alec, who’d never been a big fan of the church leader.

“After the tragic events of this afternoon, I think we should all take a moment to reflect on the fleeting nature of life,” said Omar, wreathing his face in mournful frowns. “Plus, I’d like to find out who killed my friend Jaqlyn, and I can think of no better way than bringing everyone together and seeing if we can’t figure this out together.”

Outside of the circle of humans, a second circle had been organized, only this one not consisting of chairs but cushions placed on the floor. And here Master Sharif was officiating, and welcoming us to this peculiar and unusual gathering. Immediately I saw that Shanille was also there, in fact seated to Sharif’s immediate left, as if already having risen through the ranks to the highest position available.

“I’m out of here,” Harriet announced, and started walking away.

“Harriet, please take a seat!” Sharif caroled, his voice echoing through the room.

Harriet halted in her tracks.“And why would I do that?” she asked, half-turning.

“Shanille has a confession to make, haven’t you, Shanille?” said Sharif.

Shanille didn’t speak. She merely looked uneasy. “No, I haven’t,” she finally said.

“Shanille wants you to know she regrets the harsh words directed at you,” said Sharif.

“No, I don’t,” Shanille muttered.

“Yes, she does. And she wants you to know how important it is for her to make amends. Please shake paws with Harriet, Shanille. Be the bigger cat.”

Shanille looked as if she’d much rather do anything than shake paws with Harriet, but her master’s voice decided her. So it was with visible reluctance that she got up and walked over to Harriet. She held up her paw. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

“What was that?” asked Sharif. “I didn’t catch it.”

“I said I’m sorry,” said Shanille, louder this time.

Harriet eyed her with marked disdain, gave the other cat’s paw a slight slap, then both cats turned their backs and stalked off in opposite directions and took their seats.

“How touching,” said Dooley. “Friends once more.”

“I doubt it,” said Brutus, and hurried to take a seat next to his mate, while Dooley and I made ourselves comfortable, and so did Kingman, our special guest this evening.

The final guests arrived in the form of Jenny Parker and her dad Nick, and Jaqlyn’s neighbor Barney, and the door of the room was closed, the two guards taking position in front of it, and then the lights were turned down a notch, creating a special atmosphere.

“My friends, most welcome to my home,” said Omar, spreading his arms. “First off, I have a confession to make.”

“This should be good,” Kingman said.

“When I returned to Hampton Cove, where I grew up, I was just an ordinary guy with a big dream. I’d made my fortune on Wall Street for the past sixteen years, and had firsthand experienced the emptiness of a life devoted to the amassing of material wealth. Oh, I had all the accouterments of success: the Lambo, the Manhattan condo, the glamorous model girlfriend, but even though my nights were spent with the in-crowd frequenting fancy restaurants and cool clubs, I felt empty inside. Unhappy. It took almost getting killed in a car crash to realize my life wasn’t going in the right direction.”

“I think I’ve seen this movie, Max,” said Dooley. “Wasn’t Nicolas Cage in it?”

“He was,” I confirmed, remembering the movieThe Family Man with fondness. Though in that particular movie it took meeting an angel for Nic to change his ways.

“So while convalescing I picked up a Bible the hospital pastor had been so thoughtful to gift me, and started thumbing through the thing. It wasn’t the kind of reading I was used to. Not exactly Grisham or Patterson. Still, I became intrigued, and over the course of the next couple of weeks I decided to turn my life around. Focus on feeding my soul, instead of my avarice. Spreading happiness instead of ROI. And Soul Science was born.”

“A cult,” Father Reilly grumbled.

“A way to share my newfound wisdom,” Omar countered. “I never wanted to launch a new religion, or a cult, or whatever. I simply wanted to bring people together and show them there’s more to life than simply collecting a bunch of material possessions.”

“You collected followers instead,” said the priest. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“I admit I got carried away a little in my zeal to spread the word,” said Omar. “And for that I apologize. I don’t want to be a guru, or a new pope or modern prophet. All I want is to come together with a group of likeminded people and talk about our experience.”

“Well, you sure helped me,” said Jason. “No offense, Father Reilly, but he did.”

“And I’m glad for that, Jason,” said Omar. “But I see now that in setting up Soul Science I’ve created a monster. So I’m hereby officially disbanding the organization, and announcing that Soul Science is no more.”

His surprise announcement was met with gasps of shock.

“Jaqlyn’s death has made me think, and this is what I’ve come up with. People are always looking for a leader to follow, and I admit I was honored and touched when they decided to follow me. Me, a former investment banker! Anyway, I think it’s time to stop this nonsense. Which brings me to my second point.” He glanced around the room, his eyes darting from face to face. “Someone killed Jaqlyn, and his killer is in our midst.”

“But I thought Tex Poole killed Jaqlyn?” asked Barney, clearly much surprised. “Using an aluminum baseball bat or billy club? Or it could have been a nice steel hammer…”

“Tex is innocent,” said Omar. “I have it on good authority that the person who is really responsible tried to make it look as if Tex killed Jaqlyn, and they did a pretty good job.”

“What are you saying?” asked Charlene. “That you know who really killed Jaqlyn?”

“Yes,” said Omar. “I know who killed Jaqlyn.”

This time there was a stunned silence, as people stared at the former guru.

“But I think it’s important that the person who did it comes forward and tells you himself what happened.” Omar directed a knowing look at one of those present and said, in a kindly tone, “So how about it? Are you going to tell them or do you want me to do it?”

Chapter 36

“What’s going on, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I think Omar has just revealed who Jaqlyn’s killer is,” I said.

“But… isn’t Odelia supposed to do that? She’s the detective, isn’t she?”

“Well, it looks like things have taken a slightly different turn this time,” I said.

“Twists and turns,” Kingman whispered. “All of the books Wilbur likes to read got them. He says he can’t read a book that isn’t filled to the rim with twists and turns.”

Well, this was a twist, all right. One of those things you don’t see coming until they hit you in the snoot. Or the patootie.

Jason Blowhard, for it was he who’d been singled out by Omar, opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. It was obvious he hadn’t seen this one coming either. He glanced longingly to the door, but the two sturdily-built bodyguards standing sentry quickly made him see that there was no escape possible.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said now, in an unconvincing attempt at bluster. “He’s gone mad,” he declared to the others present. “The man has gone completely screwy! That’s what happens when you go around declaring that you’re some kind of god in human shape. Itstarts to mess up your brain.”

“I never said I was a god in human shape,” said Omar, leaning back. “All I ever wanted was to talk about the soul, and you guys started assuming stuff. Calling me a god and saying that Soul Science was a new religion and yadda yadda yadda. You did that.”

“Did you kill Jaqlyn, Jason?” asked Uncle Alec, assuming his role as chief of police.

“No, sir,” said Jason, shaking his head decidedly. “No, sir, I did not. Tex Poole did.”

“Oh, nonsense,” said Gran. “Tex wouldn’t hurt a fly. When I told him the other day to rid my roses of greenfly he told me the poor creatures had a right to live as much as the next garden pest. The man is a softie. And I should know. He married my daughter twenty-five years ago and I’ve come to love him like a son ever since. And if any of you dare tell him that I’ll hunt you all down and kill you like the rats you are,” she warned.

“I thought you killed Jaqlyn,” said Chase, gesturing to Jenny’s dad. “For almost killing your daughter.”

“I did have a word with the guy,” Jenny’s dad acknowledged, “and I admit I had to restrain myself from landing a punch in his no-good incompetent face, but in the end I couldn’t do it. My little girl wouldn’t have liked her dad to get into trouble like that.”

“But you did give him a piece of your mind, didn’t you, Dad?” said Jenny proudly.

“Oh, you bet I did,” said Nick Parker. “He paled beneath his tan, the horrible ass.”

If Francine Jones was hurt by these epithets being hurled at her dead husband, she didn’t show it. Instead, she said, “I could have killed him myself, but I didn’t. I thought about it for a moment, but I figured he wasn’t worth going to prison for.”

“I’m sorry I did that to you, Francine,” said Monica, seated next to her, and held out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Francine took it.

“And I’m sorry I scratched you,” she said.

“I deserved it,” said Monica. “I was a fool, falling for the guy, but it took me until now to realize it.”

“And I was a fool to stay married to him for all these years, even after he gambled away my inheritance, and cheated on me practically the entire time we were married.”

“He was scum,” said her brother Kenny. “Well, he was, sis,” he said emphatically when she gave him a look. “The world is better off without him.You’re better off without him.”

“I just wish I’d squeezed harder when I had my hands around his neck,” his brother Mike grumbled.

“You didn’t,” said Francine, wide-eyed.

“Oh, yes, I did. I told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of him, and he squealed like a pig when I lifted him clear off the floor.”

“So… did you kill him?” asked Odelia.

“No, I didn’t,” said Mike. “I finally let him go, after he promised me he was going to sign the divorce papers the moment they arrived, which I told him wouldn’t be long.”

“I could have killed him,” said Barney Sowman now. “A nice big whack across the occipital bone with an aluminum bat would have done the trick. Or just your plain household hammer, of course,” he allowed, for the sake of argument.

“But you didn’t?” asked Uncle Alec.

“Nope, I didn’t. Tex beat me to it,” he said with a touch of regret. “Literally. Though in all honesty I probably wouldn’t have gone through with it. I think when push comes to shove I don’t have it in me to go around murdering people. I guess I’m just not that guy.”

“I know how you feel,” said Monica Chanting’s husband Garvin. He was a big guy, built like a brick outhouse. “When I found out about my wife having an affair with Doctor Jones I wanted to squash him like a fly. Stomp on his neck like a viper. Tear him limb from limb like a pi?ata. Rip him up with my backhoe like a tree stump. Split his head like a melon. But I only found out after he was already dead,” he concluded with regret.

All eyes now turned to Jason, who’d gone markedly pale, and was sweating profusely.

“Simply confess, Jason,” Omar said kindly. “You’ll feel so much better, you’ll see.”

“But I didn’t do it!” Jason cried, his voice shrill. “How can I confess to something I didn’t do!”

“So you really want an innocent man to go to prison for a crime you committed?” asked Omar. “You want that on your conscience, too?”

Jason gulped some more.

“He looks guilty, Max,” said Dooley.

“He does indeed,” I said.

“Think of the twelve steps, son,” Father Reilly tried. “Get up and introduce yourself.”

Jason stared at the priest, then at the others present, then buried his face in his hands for a moment, before abruptly getting up and saying, in a shaky voice,“My name is Jason and I’m an alcoholic. I’m also… a murderer.”

Chapter 37

“Why did you do it?” asked Omar, still adopting the same kindly tone he had throughout the meeting.

“I don’t know. It came out of nowhere,” said Jason, taking a seat again. “I-I’d gone over there to tell him to back off. That I wasn’t going to take any more of his crap, and things… got out of hand.”

“What crap?” asked Omar.

Jason squeezed his eyes shut, then sighed.“Look, before Jaqlyn joined Soul Science I was the big cheese around here, okay? I was on the inner circle and I was the one sitting next to Master Omar at the table. I was the man, and for the first time ever I felt like my life had purpose, I was going places. People looked up to me and asked me for advice. Girls suddenly started going out with me. Me! Jason Blowhard! It was like a dream.”

“And then Jaqlyn showed up,” Omar prompted gently.

Jason’s expression darkened. “Right from the get-go he started playing mind games. As my doctor he knew all about my past. The boozing, the drugs—”

“Drugs?” asked Odelia, sounding surprised.

“Oh, I’ve been clean for months,” said Jason, like a man at a job interview convincing a future employer of his merits. “But Jaqlyn started telling me it wasn’t fitting for an addict to be in my position. He said I was sending out the wrong energetic vibe, and also, I didn’t look the part.” He touched his face tattoo. “He said I looked like an ex-con and I was liable to scare people away from Soul Science by featuring so prominently in all of the videos. For the sake of the movement he advised me to take a step back and assume a backstage role. At least until I’d had the tattoo removed.”

“You never told me this,” said Omar.

“I thought you knew!” said Jason. “I thought you knew all, saw all, heard all…”

“Oh, God,” said Omar, quite aptly. “I’m just a dude, Jason. All I ever wanted was to bring a little soul into this world. I’m not a god, buddy. Six months ago I was still advising people about Credit Default Swaps and Synthetic Collateralized Debt Obligations! Well, before crashing my Lamborghini Aventador into a guardrail on Route 73, of course.”

“Anyway, when I kicked up a fuss about giving up my position on the inner circle and at your table, Jaqlyn said he’d tell everyone about my predilection for hard liquor and coke, and promised I’d be kicked out of Soul Science and lose all my newfound friends.”

“My husband was a bastard,” said Francine matter-of-factly. “A grade A skunk.”

“So I decided to give him a piece of my mind and confront him. I was frankly fed up, and…” He bowed his head. “I kinda lost my nerve and… took a quick snifter.”

“Oh, Jason,” said Father Reilly.

“It’s fine,” said Omar. “You fell off the wagon, you can get on again.”

“So I accosted Jaqlyn on the street this afternoon and we got into a fight and he said that if I came to his house one more time he was going to make a video and expose me. He’d post it on YouTube and that’d be the end for me. Well, I got very upset and so I grabbed the bottle of vodka I got for the occasion and whacked him on the head with it.”

“The devil is in the bottle,” Father Reilly murmured, and folded his hands in prayer.

“When he didn’t get up, I realized I was in big trouble, but when I looked around I saw that the street was empty. No one had seen us. So I quickly started looking for a car that was unlocked and very soon found one. And then I dumped Jaqlyn’s body inside and got the hell out of there.”

“Dad left the car unlocked?” asked Odelia, shocked.

Marge closed her eyes and shook her head.“I’ve only told the man a million times always to lock up his car. But does he do it? No.”

“You didn’t mean to frame Tex?” asked Uncle Alec.

“I didn’t even know whose car it was!” said Jason.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” said Charlene, getting up. “Alec, will you please read Jason his rights?”

Alec did as he was told, and before our very eyes, Jason was arrested and led away.

“I’m sorry, Master Omar!” he said before he was escorted out of the room.

“How did you know?” asked Chase.

Omar emitted a tired sigh.“In Soul Science we have this thing where we write down our thoughts when they’re preventing us from getting in touch with our deeper nature. Jason must have come in after what happened this afternoon, and written everything down. I just happened to pass by his desk and saw the notebook. Curious, I took a peek, even though I probably shouldn’t have. When I saw what he’d written I immediately thought about calling the cops. Only I realized he’d simply deny the whole thing. So I figured this meeting scenario might induce him to confess. And luckily he did.”

“What are you going to do now?” asked Odelia. “Now that you’ve disbanded Soul Science?”

“Oh, I might take a trip,” said Omar. “I made a lot of money in my crazy Wall Street years, and even though I invested a good chunk in Soul Science, I think I want to get away from things for a while. Maybe see my sister. She lives in Spain,” he explained.

“You shouldn’t give up Soul Science,” said Father Reilly now, much to everyone’s surprise. “I think you’re on to a good thing, Omar, and you shouldn’t just give it up. Just… change the format a little bit. I can probably give you some advice on how to do that.”

“I would like that,” said Omar gratefully.

“Drop by any time. Let’s make this work.”

People were talking amongst themselves now, discussing the recent and stunning events, and I noticed how Sharif had drifted into my ken and was eyeing me intently.

“Max?” he said now. “We never really had the opportunity to talk, did we?”

“No, we didn’t,” I said, and didn’t mention that I never felt like talking to him.

“The thing is… I think I gave the wrong impression before. Like Omar, I’m just a dude, you know. But you know what cats are like. As soon as you mention the word soul or spirit they immediately assume you’re some kind of guru or god or whatever.”

“I never thought you were a guru or a god,” I said.

“I like your sermons,” said Dooley. “I’ve never slept so well as during the last one. You really should consider putting them on tape and sell them as a patent cure for insomnia.”

Sharif, much to my surprise, burst out laughing.“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all week! I’ll have to tell Omar.”

This intrigued me.“So it’s true that Omar can talk to you?”

“Just a figure of speech, Max. He’s a human and I’m a cat. Of course we don’t talk.”

I didn’t want to tell him about the Poole women, so I just said, “No, sure, of course.”

“Look, Max,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Whether Omar will disband Soul Science or whatever. But I hope you and I can be friends one day.”

I looked the cat in the eye, and realized he was just a dude, standing in front of another dude, asking that dude to be his buddy. So I nodded and said,“I’d like that.”

“Great,” he said, and we shook paws on it.

Epilogue

Our company had been requested to liven up yet another garden party, only this party was one conducted in our own backyard, or at least in Marge and Tex’s backyard, and only a select few guests were present, namely my humans and my feline friends.

After last night’s events had transpired, Tex had immediately been released, and now stood working away behind the grill like a long-lost son finally having arrived home.

If prison life had made him a more spiritual, more reflective person, he didn’t show it. As usual he was dispensing the fruits of his labor to all and sundry, regaling both man and beast with pieces of meat like a benevolent King Solomon strewing gold from his hat.

“I think it’s wonderful to have Tex home again,” said Dooley, who was lying next to me on the porch swing. “The place hasn’t been the same without him.”

“The place was hardly without him,” I pointed out. “He was only in jail a couple of hours.”

“Still,” said Dooley, directing an affectionate look at our resident doctor-slash-grillmeister.

“Still,” I agreed. Tex is one of those people you hardly notice are there, until they’re not there and you realize they’re actually the bedrock the whole thing is built on.

“I’m very unhappy,” Harriet announced. “Shanille played a dirty trick on us.”

“Oh, it’s all fine, twinkle toes,” muttered Brutus, examining a burger patty and, having determined, like the FDA, that it was fit for feline consumption, quickly gobbling it up.

“It’s not fine, Brutus. She said she was disbanding cat choir and just when you take your responsibility and step up to the plate, she can’t just come in and take over again. She made her bed and now she should lie in it.”

“What bed?” asked Dooley.

“Just an expression,” I murmured.

“It’s all to the good,” Brutus insisted.

And he was right. Last night Brutus had conducted his first cat choir ever, and it was safe to say it hadn’t gone well. There had been dissent in the ranks, cats had talked through his instructions, and one cat had even thrown a rock at him, like ribald pupils will when they sense the new teacher is a pushover and should be tested to the limit.

I think Brutus learned an important lesson, namely that he isn’t a born leader of singers, and that it’s a lot tougher than it looks to make a group of unruly cats behave.

So when Shanille suddenly appeared on the scene, a little shamefaced, and asked for a conference with Brutus and myself, I could tell that Brutus was secretly relieved when she apologized for her behavior and asked if she could please take up her old position again.

Brutus immediately said‘Oh, please, yes!’ and I agreed it was the best solution for all involved. Shanille, of course, was elated, and kept telling me she had no idea what had come over her, and why she’d fallen under Sharif’s spell to such an extent and become absolutely insufferable in the process. I told her not to worry, that we all go off the rails from time to time and that it was all water under the bridge as far as I was concerned.

The only one who wasn’t happy was Harriet, and it was obvious that even now, almost a day later, she was still fuming.

“I loved the performance Sharif gave last night,” said Dooley now. “He sings better than he preaches. I didn’t even fall asleep.”

“Yeah, he’s got a lovely voice,” I agreed.

Sharif, upon his arrival, had been greeted with mixed emotions by his former followers. As soon as he opened his mouth and sang his first song, however, the ice was broken and soon he was accepted by the group as one of the gang. He told us Omar had had his first meeting with Father Reilly, and they’d agreed to work together. Omar would take over the Alcoholics Anonymous group meetings and get busy with some of the other work Father Reilly was involved in. All in all, things were going back to normal.

Even Tex’s patients had all returned to the fold. After a little digging, Tex had discovered that Jaqlyn had set up a scam whereby he charged people through the nose for tests they took which were mostly unnecessary. Mrs. Baumgartner’s so-called hairline fracture? Non-existent. Just a way for Jaqlyn tomake more money, in cahoots with a shady lab technician and a crooked radiologist, who provided the bogus tests. After Odelia had revealed all, Tex had suddenly been overwhelmed by an outpouring of sympathy. Being the man that he was, though, he’d adopted a forgive and forget attitude.

“You know, I think we all learned an important lesson,” said Gran.

“And what lesson is that?” asked Odelia.

“That anyone can be a religious leader,” said Gran.

“Is that the lesson you learned?” asked Chase. “I learned another one. That I should never arrest a member of my family again, no matter what the law advises.”

“Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself, Chase,” said Tex, gleefully flinging a burger patty into Marcie and Ted Trapper’s backyard. “I don’t blame you for arresting me. In fact I can’t think of a better person to arrest me than you. I even enjoyed our interview.”

Chase winced.“I’m sorry, Tex. I really thought you lost your head and killed the guy.”

“Hey, no hard feelings,” Tex insisted.

“Want some more potato salad, Alec?” asked Marge.

“Don’t mind if I do, Marge,” said Alec, perking up.

“Then get it yourself,” said Marge harshly, and snatched the bowl away.

“Looks like Marge still hasn’t forgiven her brother,” said Dooley.

“No, looks like,” I agreed.

“Don’t be this way, Marge,” said Uncle Alec. “I was only doing my duty.”

“The only reason you were invited is because Ma told me I should,” Marge snapped. “So if you don’t want me to change my mind and kick you out, I suggest you shut up.”

“Ouch,” said Brutus.

“Ouch indeed,” I said.

“It’s all fine,” said Tex, lovingly setting a plate of scorched sausages on the table for everyone to enjoy. “We’re all friends here. Forgive and forget, eh?”

“Mh,” said Marge, not convinced.

“So how is the article coming along?” asked Chase, deciding to change the subject.

“It’s a little challenging,” Odelia said. “I wrote one on the rise and fall of Soul Science, and one on the rise and fall of Jaqlyn, but Dan told me I should probably write another one on the rise and fall and rise again of Dad, as people loved the last one. And now we don’t know which one to print, as we only have so much space on our front page.”

“I think I’ll launch my own religion,” Gran announced suddenly. “I’ve seen how it’s done now, and I think I would like the perks of having my own set of loyal followers.”

“The only thing you’d like is for Scarlett to sit at your feet in worship,” said Marge.

Gran’s wide grin said it all. “And would that be such a bad thing?”

“Don’t do it, Ma,” Uncle Alec warned.

“Yeah, don’t even think about it,” Marge said.

“But it’s so easy! And look how much money you can make. We could do it as a family. Tex could retire, and so could Alec and Marge. Chase could work security at events, Marge could be my communications director, Odelia could write my press releases, and Tex and Alec could bring in the followers. It’ll be a goldmine for the whole family!”

“Ma, no!” said Alec and Marge as one voice. They shared a look and grinned.

“I’m sorry, big brother,” said Marge.

“No, I’m sorry, little sis,” said Alec.

And as brother and sister hugged it out, I could see Gran direct a sly look at her offspring. When she caught my eye, she winked.

“She did it on purpose,” I muttered.

“What’s that?” asked Dooley.

“Nothing, Dooley. Just that Gran isn’t half as crazy as she looks.”

I saw that she was studying Chase next, clearly wondering how to raise the cop’s stock in Marge’s eyes. I could practically see her little gray cells work like little beavers underneath those little white curls of hers.

“You know?” she said, sidling up to Marge and lowering her voice. “I’m glad you finally see Chase for what he is: a traitorous, no-good piece of cheese. So I was thinking. We need to find a new boyfriend for Odelia and get rid of this Chase Kingsley once and for all. So how about Barney Sowman? He’s single, right?” Marge gave her mother a shocked look, and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Gran went on, “Or how about Omar Carter? You heard what he said. The guy is loaded. A great catch.”

Marge’s lips had formed a thin line, and her face had turned into a thunderstorm.

She got up slowly and said, eyes popping a little,“Vesta Muffin, if you think for one minute I’m going to allow my daughter to break up with the best man she’s ever met you’ve got another thing coming! Chase is a part of this family and he’s here to stay!”

“Fine,” said Gran, crossing her arms with a mutinous look on her face. “If you want to keep nourishing a viper in your bosom, it’s your funeral. I’m just saying Omar is—”

“Not another word from you!” Marge thundered.

Gran shrugged, and when I met her eye, this time I was the one who winked.

Yep. One smart cookie, our Grandma Muffin.

“C’mere, Chase,” said Marge, her voice tremulous, and enveloped the cop into a warm embrace. “I’m sorry,” she said, blinking away a tear.

“No, I’m sorry, Marge,” said Chase, his eyes moist.

“You’re like a son to me, you know that, right?”

“And you’re like a mother to me,” he said.

“Let me get in there,” said Tex, and joined the hugfest, quickly followed by Uncle Alec.

“Max?” asked Dooley.

“Mh?” I said, enjoying the scene and swiping at my eyes.

“How can Marge be like a mother to Chase if he already has a mother?”

“I have no idea, buddy, but isn’t it wonderful, everyone getting along?”

Brutus and Harriet had slunk off the swing and were traipsing up to the grill, presumably to see if more meat was to be had. Harriet was still complaining about Shanille, and Brutus was still dutifully nodding along, not all that concerned.

“Max?”

“Mh?”

“If Marge is like a dad to Chase, is Tex like a father?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“But… then isn’t Odelia like a sister to him?”

“Um…”

“Brothers and sisters can’t get married, Max. I saw that on TV. They just can’t.”

I patted him on the head.“You know what, Dooley? You think too much.”

“But—”

“It’s all to the good, buddy. Just relax and be happy.”

He heaved a deep sigh.“Okay,” he said, and to my surprise gave me a grateful smile.

“What?” I said.

“You said I think too much.”

“So?”

“That means I’m smart, right?”

“Of course you’re smart.”

His smile widened.“No one has ever told me I’m smart, Max.”

“Well, you are, Dooley, and don’t let anyone tell you different.”

To my surprise he suddenly gave me a big hug.“I love you, Max.”

“I love you, too, buddy.”

Yep. It was a real lovefest.

And you know what?

I loved every second.

Guess I’m a softie, too.