by Nic Saint
“So your sister was the only one who knew about this?”
“I tell my sister everything,” said Evelina simply. “She’s the one who helped me negotiate the release of the money from the bank. They were very reluctant to part with so much cash, you know. Seventy-five thousand dollars is a lot of money.” She glanced up at Odelia. “Did you—did you find the money? Did Bob still have it on him?”
“No, Bob didn’t have any money on him,” said Odelia. “So your sister thinks Bob’s the one who organized his own kidnapping? So he could get his hands on your money?”
“That’s her theory.”
“Because after you made the drop you didn’t hear from the kidnappers or Bob?”
Evelina nodded. “Also, the whole thing felt off. Bob and I had only been dating for a very short while. If these people wanted money, why didn’t they kidnap me instead? Or my sister? Why Bob, a man who, by all accounts, probably meant nothing to me at that point? At least that’s the argument my sister made. Frankly she was wrong. Even in that short time Bob had come to mean a great deal to me, and so when they made that ransom demand…”
“How was the demand made? By phone or letter or…”
“I received a video message on my phone.”
“A video of…”
“Of Bob,” said Evelina, nodding. “He looked very frightened in the video, and had a gun pressed to his head by a person who was out of frame. He said they’d kill him if I didn’t do as they said. It all looked very convincing, and by the time I told my sister, I’d already started the procedure of getting the money together. Emma tried to talk me out of it, but I didn’t want to take any chances with Bob’s life.”
“Even though Emma half-convinced you it was Bob himself who was behind the thing?”
“That was later, after I made the drop and didn’t hear from the kidnappers—or Bob. She figured he’d been in on it from the start. Frankly I didn’t know what to think. Seventy-five thousand is a big sum, but my company turned over thirty million last year, so it’s not as if the money will be missed. It just seemed like a small price to pay for Bob’s safety.”
“Thirty million dollars,” said Dooley. “Is that a lot of money, Max?”
“Yes, Dooley. Thirty million dollars is a lot of money.”
“Poor woman,” my friend said. “Being so rich and so unlucky in love. And then when she finally finds the man of her dreams he’s kidnapped and killed.”
“We still don’t know what really happened, Dooley,” I pointed out. “Evelina’s sister may very well be right, and Bob may be the one behind this whole thing.”
“But then why did he end up dead?”
“He must have had a partner,” I said. “And maybe this partner got greedy and decided he wanted the money for himself and so he shot and killed Bob.”
“Or maybe Bob was innocent and he was shot because the kidnappers got what they wanted and didn’t need him anymore.”
“What happened to Bob?” asked Evelina now. “How did he end up on that potato truck?”
“We’re not sure yet,” said Odelia. “The investigation is still ongoing. When was the last time you talked to the kidnappers?”
“I never actually talked to them. They sent me messages on my phone, and I messaged them back.”
“Can I see your phone for a moment?”
“Sure,” said Evelina, and handed Odelia the gadget. “They used WhatsApp. Under Bob’s name. Another reason for Emma to suspect him.” She clicked open the app to show our human.
“I think it would be best if you gave this phone to the police,” Odelia finally said, after checking some of the messages. “Maybe they can try and find out who sent them.”
“I know what you’re thinking, Miss Poole,” said Evelina. “You’re thinking I should have gone to the police. But they specifically told me not to, and I didn’t want to jeopardize Bob’s safe return. It was much easier for me to just do as they said, and pay off the ransom demand, than to risk Bob’s life. So I went along with the whole thing.” She burst into tears once more. “And now they killed him anyway.”
Dooley, who’d been studying the woman closely, finally said, “No. Definitely not an actress, Max. I think she’s for real.”
I patted my friend on the back. “Any other thoughts you’d like to share?”
“I wonder where Evelina keeps Mr. Ed. Odelia should talk to him, too. Get his interview on tape.”
“I think that might prove a little hard,” I said. “But I agree with you that we should probably have another chat with Mr. Ed.”
And since as far as I know snails usually live outside in the garden, where they like to nibble on assorted plants and vegetables, we made our way to the kitchen, where some high-pitched meowing and earnest scratching earned us free passage into the backyard.
Chapter 17
“Finally!” suddenly a voice spoke in our vicinity.
When we glanced over we saw that it was none other than our slimy friend the snail.
“Mr. Ed!” said Dooley, who’d clearly taken a liking to the small pet.
“I thought you’d accepted the case?” said Mr. Ed, a touch of pique in his voice betraying his annoyance. “I’ve been waiting for a progress report for what feels like forever!”
“It took some time to relay the information to our human,” I said. “And then there’s a big hullabaloo in town today that caused Odelia to have some prior commitments.”
“What hullabaloo? There’s only one hullabaloo that counts,” said the peeved snail.
He wasn’t in the backyard as we’d surmised but in a large glass tank that had been outfitted especially for his needs. The tank had been placed half inside, half outside the home, with a means of access and egress on both sides so he had the run of the house and the backyard. He obviously made full use of this luxury position, as trails of slime ran all over the sides of the glass tank and also led to and from his fancy little home.
Inside the tank he had plenty of iceberg lettuce to munch on, as well as some kale, sliced-up blueberries, butternut squash, cucumber, mango and even turnip. Clearly Mr. Ed was a much-loved pet, and as a champion to Evelina’s cause the affection was mutual.
“How long did it take you to crawl all the way back from our backyard to here?” asked Dooley, watching the small snail with open-mouthed admiration.
“A long time, if you have to know,” said Mr. Ed. “But it will be worth it if you manage to solve this case and put my human’s mind at ease.” He fixed us with a meaningful look.
“We’re still in the early stages of our investigation,” I explained, “but there’s one thing I would like to clear up now, before we continue.”
“What’s that?”
“Evelina didn’t know that Bob was dead, and that his body had been found on that potato truck. So can you please explain to us how you knew?”
“That’s easy,” said Mr. Ed. “Evelina doesn’t watch the news. But I do.”
“You watch the news?” I asked, picturing Mr. Ed seated on the couch with the remote in his… what, exactly? Snails don’t have hands or feet. Well, they have the one big foot they use to crawl around. But definitely no digits, so they’re even worse off than cats.
“Yeah, she doesn’t like all the nastiness that’s on the news nowadays. All the mayhem. So she never watches the stuff. She figures that if there’s something she really needs to be aware of her sister will tell her, or her parents. But I like to watch, and she knows it.”
I was afraid to ask how Mr. Ed’s human could possibly know his likes and dislikes, so I didn’t.
“She installed a small TV for me over there, and keeps it going twenty-four seven.”
We looked over to where Mr. Ed was pointing with one of his antennae, and lo and behold, indeed there was a small TV set installed near his tank, and it was indeed tuned to one of our local TV stations. On the screen they showed images of a man with striking sideburns leaving the Star hotel. The crawler at the bottom of the scre
en announced that this gentleman was none other than Lord Hilbourne, on his way to Town Hall for his big ‘Keys to the city’ ceremony. Which reminded me that we probably should be going soon, as Odelia, Hampton Cove’s premier reporter, couldn’t afford to miss the show.
“So when I saw that Bob had been found lying amongst a heap of potatoes I knew his plan to kidnap himself must have gone wrong, and that swift action was required to figure out what had happened and to get Evelina’s money back.”
I didn’t exactly associate swift action with snails but that could just be my prejudice talking, of course.
“So you still think Bob staged his own kidnapping?” I said.
“Absolutely. Who would want to kidnap that idiot?”
Clearly no love was lost between Evelina’s boyfriend and her pet snail. “But why? Why did you dislike Bob so much?” Apart from the fact he’d almost crushed him.
“Because he was sneaky. Very sneaky. I once caught him in the bathroom talking to himself, and he was saying things no boyfriend should be saying.”
“What was he saying?”
“’If I can just convince her, I’m home free,’” said Mr. Ed, his voice having taken on a grave tone. “Get it? Home free. Obviously he was only going out with her for the money, and when she wouldn’t give it to him straight away he decided to set up this elaborate abduction scheme. Only his partner decided not to split the proceeds and killed Bob.”
“That’s what I said!” Dooley cried. “Isn’t that what I said, Max?”
“Yes, Dooley. You called it,” I said.
“So? Everything clear now?” said Mr. Ed, into whose voice had crept that note of peevishness again. “Now if you’ve done enough standing around with your tails in your paws I suggest you get moving and solve this case for me!”
Clearly our client was a demanding one, and so we said our goodbyes and returned to the living room, where Odelia had just finished her interview with Evelina and was getting ready to leave. “I’ve called my uncle and he’s asked if you could drop by the precinct so he can take your statement any time it’s convenient for you?” she said.
Evelina nodded. “Thank you, Miss Poole. I must admit that it feels good to get this off my chest. I’ve been keeping things a secret for far too long, and it was eating me alive.”
“It’s all right. You did what you thought was best.”
“Thank you,” Evelina repeated, and shared a hug with Odelia.
“That’s the advantage of not being a cop,” I pointed out to Dooley. “You don’t see Chase or Uncle Alec going around hugging people, but sometimes people need a hug.”
“So do you need a hug sometimes, Max?” asked Dooley.
“Of course. Like I said, we all need a hug sometimes.”
“Come here,” said Dooley, and proceeded to give me a hug.
Mr. Ed must have noticed, for he shouted from his tank, “Less hugging and more investigating! Now get going, you bunch of lazybones—you’re on the clock here!”
Chapter 18
“Are you sure we did the right thing by not telling Odelia?” asked Scarlett as she and Vesta hurried along the sidewalk.
“Of course I’m sure. She doesn’t need to see this. And frankly he doesn’t need to see her!”
“I just don’t get it,” said Scarlett with a shake of the head.
“Oh, but I do. He’s a guy, and guys are all the same. Haven’t you learned that by now?”
“Yeah, but not him. I thought he was special.”
“Why should he be the exception to the rule?” asked Vesta, and halted in front of the Cool Cucumber, one of a recent crop of new eateries that had sprung up in town.
“Are you sure it’s here?” asked Scarlett as she tried to glance in through the window.
“If my informer is correct—and I don’t see any reason why he would lie to me—this is the place.” She took a deep breath and shared a look with her friend. “Let’s do this.”
“Let’s do this,” Scarlett echoed. She wasn’t normally a big fan of these types of interventions, but it was Vesta’s call, and frankly she felt it was the right one. “What if he tries to escape?”
“Oh, he won’t try to escape,” said Vesta, and she sounded sure of herself. Frankly Scarlett wouldn’t try to escape either when she saw Vesta bearing down on her.
So they both entered the restaurant, and quickly glanced around to see if they could spot the guilty party. Scarlett still held out hope Vesta’s informer was mistaken, but then suddenly she spotted the man, and from the way he was behaving it was clear Vesta had been right on the money—unfortunately.
So they both walked up to the guy, who was seated all by his lonesome at a table for two, and while Vesta took a seat across from him, Scarlett took up position behind him, so he wouldn’t be able to escape should he try to make a run for it.
“Hello, Tex,” said Vesta.
Tex looked up at his mother-in-law and there was a hint of alarm in his voice when he said, “Vesta? What are you doing here?”
“I think the more important question is: what are you doing here?”
“I, um… well, I was hungry and I decided to try this new restaurant.”
“Bullshit,” said Vesta, and Scarlett credited her friend for staying so calm and collected under the circumstances.
Tex laughed uncertainly. “A man is allowed to eat, isn’t he?”
“Are you seriously telling me that if I go over to the guy at the reservation desk and ask him who your date is that he won’t give me her name?”
Tex twisted a little in his chair, and made a motion to move it back. Scarlett had placed her foot against the legs of the chair, though, so the good doctor was effectively trapped. “Look, I don’t understand what’s going on here,” said Tex. “I just wanted to have lunch, and you’re barging in here and accusing me of—of what, exactly?”
“I’m accusing you of cheating on your wife, Tex—my daughter.”
“Cheating on my wife! Are you nuts?”
“No, but you must be—to think that you can sneak around behind Marge’s back and start dating other women.”
“I’m not dating other women!”
“So when we sit here and wait, no woman will come walking in through that door over there, expecting to have lunch with you?”
“I don’t believe this!” Tex spat. “You’re really suggesting… you’re really thinking… you really expect me to…”
“I expect you to stop lying and tell me what the hell you think you’re doing, Tex Poole!” said Vesta, raising her voice for the first time.
“But I… I don’t… I don’t think…” the doctor stammered.
“Look, I know you have a date with Evelina Pytel, and I want to know why. Though scratch that. I know why. Because you’re a guy. Well, let me tell you why this is a very bad idea, Tex,” said Vesta, now wagging a menacing finger in her son-in-law’s face. “Because if you pull a stunt like this one more time I’m not just going to tell Marge, I’m also going to skin you alive, and I’ll start by boiling your stupid head!”
“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t tell Marge, would you?”
“Not unless you keep lying to me.”
Tex finally relented, as Scarlett knew he would. “It’s Emma Bezel. She asked me to take her sister Evelina out on a date. Not a real date, mind you. Just a friendly lunch type of thing.”
“And you really expect me to believe you?”
“It’s the God’s honest truth! I didn’t want to go through with it at first, but she convinced me. She said Evelina is suicidal, and she respects me. She said that if a man showed her a kindness like this, it would mean the world to her. And it might help her get out of her funk.”
“Tex Poole,” said Vesta in measured tones, “you are either the dumbest man I’ve ever met, or the absolute worst. But looking at you now I’m going with the first option. You really thought this was a good idea?”
“Well…” said Tex, wavering a little. “Emma pointed out th
at as a doctor I have a duty of care toward my patients, and so… well, I figured she was probably right.”
“Oh, God,” said Vesta, and closed her eyes then pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. She then picked up the napkin that was lying on the table and proceeded to hit Tex over the head with it.
The waiter, who stood watching the scene from behind the safety of his station near the entrance, grinned at the sight of the altercation and gave Scarlett two thumbs up, clearly relieved he’d done the right thing by calling Vesta and spoiling Tex’s hot date.
Chapter 19
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” asked Brutus as he and Harriet sat watching the entrance to Town Hall from a safe distance.
“I’m not sure,” Harriet had to admit. She intensely disliked being trampled by a lot of humans, with their big feet and careless attitude. It was one of the reasons she’d planned to skip Odelia’s wedding, and now to put herself willingly in a similar position? “We could go in through the back,” she suggested. “And if it’s too crowded we immediately get out again.”
“Odelia won’t even be aware that we’re there,” said Brutus. “She’ll probably be too busy interviewing people and taking pictures. You know what she’s like when she’s on the job.”
“I know,” Harriet said, nodding. When Odelia was working she got into this ultra-focused mindset and seemed to forget that her cats were around—unless she needed them on that particular assignment, of course.
“Can you remind me why you wanted to come to this thing again?” asked Brutus, who clearly needed the extra motivation to go through with this.
“Because by mingling with the crowd we might get some of that extra information that Odelia might miss and then by relaying it to her we’ll get into her good graces.”
“Right,” said Brutus dubiously.
“Okay, if we’re going to do this, we better get going,” said Harriet reluctantly. “Oh, Brutus, if only we hadn’t eaten all of that food, then we wouldn’t have to conciliate Odelia, and we wouldn’t have to put ourselves in harm’s way like this.”