The Case of the Prescient Poodle

by B R Snow

  “Really?” Rocco said with a frown when she finally finished. “You expecting company?”

  “I had an early lunch.”

  “New York medium rare, house salad, side of fried mushrooms?” he said to me.

  “Perfect. Thanks, Rocco,” I said, then pointed behind the bar. “Can I see that bottle of Arrack?”

  He handed me the bottle, and I turned it over in my hands.

  “Do we sell any of this stuff?” I said, setting the bottle down on the bar.

  “Not a lot,” he said, shaking his head. “But we had a group in the other night that killed a bottle.”

  “Two men and a woman? Looked a bit like cops?” I said.

  “Yeah, that sounds like them,” Rocco said. “How the heck did you know that?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “But there were four of them at the table.”

  “What did the other one look like?” I said.

  “Big greasy bald guy who had enormous gold hoops dangling from his ears,” he said, shaking his head. “Not a good look. I pegged him as a local.”

  “Ramon had dinner with them?” I said to Josie.

  “Who’s Ramon?” Rocco said.

  “He’s the guy who organized the cockfight,” I said as several questions began bouncing around.

  “The one the night you got arrested and bit the cop?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one,” I said, making a face at him.

  Josie, her interest piqued, picked up the bottle of Arrack and examined it.

  “Sri Lanka?” she said, frowning. “I had him pegged as a beer with rum chaser kind of guy. What’s Ramon doing drinking Sri Lankan liquor?”

  “Trying to fit in, I imagine,” I said, then glanced at Rocco. “Did they meet anybody else here?”

  “Not that I noticed,” he said. “But we were pretty busy. Why do you ask?”

  “The Premier’s son got arrested today for the Jensens’ murder.”

  “Yeah, I heard,” Rocco said. “You think those folks might be involved?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, frowning. “At the moment, I’m grasping at straws. But I’m not convinced he had anything to do with it.”

  “They found some debris near the area that the cops were able to tie to him.”

  “Where did you hear about it?” I said.

  “It was all over the news tonight,” he said, then headed down the bar where some customers were waiting.

  “If the kid gets convicted, the Premier can probably say goodbye to his political career,” Josie said.

  “Yeah, it would be impossible to survive that scandal. A son killing off his father’s biggest enemy.”

  “And Gerald might slide right into the Premier job,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Well, I guess it’s good to have friends in high places, right?”

  “It’s always worked for my mother,” I said, glancing at the front door. “Speaking of the little devil.”

  My mother and Gerald entered the restaurant and spotted us immediately. We exchanged greetings, then I offered my seat to her, and she sat down next to Josie. They immediately launched into a laughter-filled chat.

  “Where’s Rooster and Paulie?” I said to Gerald.

  “Henry took them along to his weekly poker game,” he said, glancing around the restaurant.

  I studied his expression closely, and it eventually got his attention.

  “What is it?” he said, frowning as he ran a hand over his face. “Do I have something on me?”

  “No, I was just checking,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “Your reaction to the news about William,” I said.

  “Darling, don’t start,” my mother snapped over her shoulder. “Gerald is devastated by the news.”

  “Thank you,” Gerald said, nodding at my mother before shooting me a dirty look.

  “I’m sorry, Gerald,” I whispered. “That was a cheap shot.”

  “Yes, it was,” he said, still angry. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “I’m just frustrated. And I’m chasing my tail on this one,” I said. “I think somebody has to be setting William up.”

  “Of course, somebody is setting him up,” Gerald said, accepting the glass of wine my mother was holding out to him. “And thanks so much for assuming I might be part of it.”

  “I said I was sorry, Gerald.”

  He took a sip then patted my hand in forgiveness and took another look around the crowded restaurant. He waved to a couple of people then took another small sip.

  “But who would want to set him up?” he whispered.

  “I think it could be one or more of the people who are staying at Jennifer’s place,” I said. “I was over there earlier today.”

  “How did she look?” Gerald said, going for casual.

  “She looks great,” I said, shrugging. “The pink hair actually looks good on her. And she’s in love.”

  “Yes, I know that,” he snapped.

  An idea floated to the surface, and I studied him closely.

  “That’s what you had the big fight about, wasn’t it?”

  Gerald stared at me, then nodded and took another sip of wine.

  “Sometimes, you really are too smart for your own good,” he said.

  “Wow, I assumed she was just another of your casual hookups,” I said. “You were serious about her.”

  “I was.”

  “I hate to ask, Gerald, but aren’t you a bit old for her?”

  “She didn’t think so,” he said, glaring at me again. “And that’s all that mattered.”

  “Yeah, okay, I get that. But she met someone else. Someone she wants to go the distance with,” I said.

  “She did.”

  “She wants to do the family thing?”

  “Yes.”

  “And now she’s talking about selling out and leaving island life behind.”

  “She is?” Gerald said, cocking his head at me.

  “You hadn’t heard?”

  “How would I hear?” he said. “Jen is selling her place and moving? Let me guess. Europe.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She was always saying, let’s just sell everything and move to Europe,” he said, exhaling audibly. “Well, good for her. She deserves it.”

  “Do you know who she’s in love with?”

  “No, she wouldn’t tell me,” he said, shaking his head. “But I imagine it’s someone who spends the winters down here. Knowing Jen, he’s probably an artist or a musician.”

  “Or I guess it could be someone she met through her father.”

  “Highly unlikely,” he said, draining his wine and setting the glass down on the bar. “She usually ran and hid from her father’s friends and associates.”

  “That’s sad,” I said, frowning. “How’s William doing?”

  “He posted bail this afternoon,” Gerald said. “But he’s pretty shaky.”

  “I’d be shocked if he wasn’t,” I said, then lowered my voice so my mother couldn’t hear me. “I would really like to talk with him.”

  “Knock yourself out,” Gerald said, shrugging. “He’s staying at my house.”

  “What?” I said, surprised.

  “The press is already camped outside his condo. So, we thought my place would be a good spot for him to lay low.”

  “What does he think about the possibility of you taking his father’s job?”

  “William thinks it would be an upgrade for Cayman,” Gerald said, shaking his head.

  “Ouch,” I said, frowning. “So, he still isn’t talking to his dad?”

  “Not yet,” Gerald said. “I’m trying to broker a meeting between them, but so far, neither one of them is budging.”

  “Does the Premier think William might have done it?”

  “I’m not exactly sure what the Premier thinks,” Gerald said. “He and I aren’t on the best of terms at the moment.”

  “Because he thinks you might somehow be involved?” I said, rubbing my forehead.r />
  “I’m sure it has crossed his mind,” Gerald said, glancing at my mother who was starting to pay attention to our conversation.

  “That’s a little paranoid, isn’t it?” I said, managing a small laugh.

  “It’s what we politicians do,” he said, grinning at me. “Especially during times like this.” He leaned in close to the bar and placed a hand on my mother’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go sit down and have some dinner?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” Josie said.

  My mother and Josie slid off their stools and led the way into the dining room. Gerald placed a hand on my arm, and I stopped in my tracks.

  “I’ll let William know you’ll be stopping by,” Gerald said. “You’ve never been to my house before.”

  “I have not,” I said. “But I know where it is.”

  “Is there anything you don’t know?” he said.

  “You mean, apart from who blew up that yacht?”

  “Yeah, apart from that,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you going to drop by tomorrow?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “I’m planning on spending most of the day on the water.”

  “You going fishing?”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fishing around at some point,” I said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

  Chapter 22

  Detective Renfro listened closely to my update about my visit to Jennifer Jensen’s house as he slathered sunscreen over his face and arms. He put his sunglasses back on and offered me the bottle when he was done, but I waved it off. I was already heavily layered up with a SPF strong enough to hold its own with one of Paulie’s pizza ovens. But I did accept the sandwich he was holding out, and I unwrapped it and took a big bite. I washed it down with a long swig of water and leaned back against the bow railing to enjoy the breeze and my sandwich.

  “You want to wet a line in while we talk?” he said. “I hear it’s been a good week for wahoo.”

  I thought about it for a moment. Wahoo were a blast to catch, and I hadn’t been fishing for several days.

  “No, I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m pretty comfortable at the moment. But you go right ahead.”

  “Nah, it sounds like too much work,” he said, cracking the top on a can of Caybrew.

  “Now you’re speaking my language,” I said, laughing.

  He smiled and stretched his legs out in front of him as he unwrapped his sandwich.

  “Why do you think some of the folks staying with Jennifer might be involved?”

  “Probably because nobody else makes any sense,” I said, shrugging. “Except for Ramon. And since he had dinner with the security people the other night, I can make the connection.”

  “Only because you aren’t willing to believe that William did it,” Detective Renfro said through a mouthful of roasted pork and melted Swiss.

  “Why would he do it?” I said, shaking my head.

  “To take over a very lucrative cocaine operation is my first guess,” he said.

  “It’s likely that the other people have the same motive.”

  “Sure. But William has a track record of selling dope.”

  “But Gerald is adamant he’s no longer involved in stuff like that,” I said. “He’s convinced that William has turned things around and just wants to lead a quiet life.”

  “Then maybe he’s trying to put the screws to his old man. You know, as some sort of weird payback for being a crappy father,” Detective Renfro said. “And if he is, mission accomplished.”

  “No offense, Detective, but I think you might be letting your desire to become Police Commissioner get in the way of your better judgment.”

  “I can assure you, that’s not it,” he said, turning defensive. “We have some very solid evidence.”

  “Anybody could have put that debris in the water,” I said.

  “C’mon, Suzy,” he said, laughing. “That’s a major leap, even by your standards.”

  “Not really,” I said, shaking my head. “Think about it. If someone knew the patrol boat was still out there searching for debris, all they’d need to do is toss a bunch of crap overboard. Especially if the person was familiar with the local currents.”

  “Pre-prepared evidence?” he said, cocking his head. “Somebody took the time to partially burn some of the wood slats from a dynamite box then embed fiberglass and feathers? And then wipe rooster blood on it?”

  “It’s possible,” I said, my theory sounding extremely weak when voiced. I focused on my sandwich and averted eye contact. “Yeah, I can make that work.”

  “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “Talk about looking for a needle in the haystack.”

  “You said yourself it was a million to one shot that you’d find anything,” I said.

  “Yeah, we got very lucky,” he said, focusing on his sandwich. “But planting evidence in the middle of the ocean and hoping a search party found it? Even you have to admit that idea is nuts.”

  “Maybe,” I said, knowing he was right. “But somebody could have found it eventually. Or it would have washed up on shore somewhere.”

  “And whoever found it would somehow make the connection to that yacht blowing up?” he said, exasperated. “C’mon. You’re better than that.”

  I sat quietly for a long time, then had an idea.

  “Maybe that debris wasn’t the only evidence that was planted,” I said. “You know, it was just one part of an elaborate plan to set William up.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe whoever is setting him up planted something incriminating at his company. Or in his condo.”

  “Well, we’ll know soon enough,” he said, shrugging. “I’ve got some guys going through both places at the moment.”

  “But if you find anything you’re just going to consider it more evidence you can use to convict him,” I said, frowning.

  “Yeah, it’s funny how murder investigations work,” he said, laughing.

  “I’m going to talk to William tomorrow,” I said.

  He gave my comment some thought, then nodded.

  “Okay. I guess it can’t hurt. But if you get anything incriminating out of him, you do know that you need to tell me, right?”

  “I know that.”

  “Good. Try not to forget.” Then he frowned at me, confused. “He’s willing to talk to you without his lawyer present?”

  “According to Gerald, he is,” I said, draining the last of my water. “Which I take as additional proof that he’s innocent. You know, an indication that he has nothing to hide.”

  “Yeah, okay. Knock yourself out,” Detective Renfro said, then swallowed a mouthful of beer. “New topic.”

  “Ramon.”

  “What about him?” he said, finishing his sandwich.

  “He doesn’t strike me as someone capable of masterminding something like this,” I said.

  “That seems pretty obvious,” Detective Renfro said, nodding his agreement. “One more reason to like William for it.”

  “But Ramon does seem like a guy who’d be a good follower,” I said. “For the right price.”

  “No offense, Suzy, but I think you might be letting the fact that Ramon ran illegal cockfights get in the way of your better judgment,” he said, giving me a smug smile.

  “Touché,” I said, conceding the point. “I would like to see him get everything that’s coming to him.”

  “I’m sure you would, but we don’t have anything on him. Apart from the cockfighting, of course. Our surveillance hasn’t turned up anything.”

  “He’s probably laying low for the moment,” I said. “He was at dinner with those people the other night. Rocco said their conversation got heated a couple of times.”

  “Suzy, if I start arresting people for eating dinner, you and Josie are in a world of hurt,” he said, finding his own joke very funny.

  I grabbed an ice-cold beer from the cooler as I waited for him to stop laughing.

 
“I think it’s time to have a chat with him,” I said, then nodded at how good the first sip tasted in the hot sun.

  “What do you want to talk to Ramon about?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that you have a plan,” Detective Renfro said. “You can’t drop by unannounced at his house or where he works. That’s bound to make him suspicious. And that would make our surveillance even harder.”

  “So, you do still have him under surveillance?”

  “Of course,” Detective Renfro said, yawning. “It’s an ongoing investigation.”

  “You guys are still convinced the cockfighting and the smuggling are connected?”

  “Well, connected might be a bit of an overstatement,” he said, shaking his head. “But we do think they at least intersect in some way.”

  “I need a way to bump into Ramon,” I said. “You know, a chance encounter.”

  “I know where you’re going with this, and it’s not a good idea, Suzy,” he said, staring at me.

  “I heard that Ramon likes to drop by some dive bar after work,” I said.

  “I knew that was where you were going,” he said.

  “Great minds think alike,” I said, grinning at him.

  “He does stop by there most days. But I wouldn’t recommend you going anywhere near that place. That bar can get pretty rough.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, staring out at the ocean. “Wouldn’t you like to get some information from Ramon you can use?”

  “We would,” he said. “But if something were to happen to you, I’d hate having to explain why I didn’t do everything I could to stop you from going there.”

  “Yeah, I get that. That would be tough to explain. Especially with you being so close to that new job, right?” I said, then immediately regretted saying it.

  “That’s a cheap shot,” he whispered. “Why can’t you just accept the fact that I don’t want to see you get hurt?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, crushed by my borderline-cruel comment. “I don’t know why I say stuff like that.”

  “Forget it,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve said worse. And by now, I’m pretty used to it.”

  “I’m really sorry, Detective,” I said. “When my brain gets overloaded, and the adrenaline starts flowing, I have a hard time controlling my mouth. For what it’s worth, I hope you get the job. I think you’d make an excellent police commissioner.”