The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33

by Nic Saint

  At any rate, Odelia’s and Chase’s investigations had taken us to a man named Todd Park, who had been called the head raver by Darryl Farmer’s former girlfriend. In fact Mr. Park was the organizer of those raves that her ex-boyfriend liked to DJ at so much.

  I had expected Mr. Park to live in a dump, but in actual fact he lived in a neat little condo in a new development near the beach. From his balcony we even had a very nice view of that same beach, and the ocean, and I noticed the presence of a pair of binoculars on a wrought-iron table indicating that Todd liked to keep an eye out for possible drowning victims—or girls dressed in string bikinis, as the case may be.

  Todd wasn’t a young man. In fact I would have put him closer to fifty than forty, but he was probably young at heart, or at least liked to present himself that way. He was dressed in designer jeans, designer T-shirt depicting a stylized weed symbol, and designer sneakers, and with his long ponytail and neatly trimmed beard he looked more like the owner of a Silicon Valley startup than a ‘head raver,’ whatever that was.

  “So you knew Darryl well,” said Odelia. We were all seated in the nice salon of Todd’s neat condo, the humans on leather couches and Dooley and me on the hardwood floor.

  “Yeah, Darryl was my right-hand man,” said Todd, who looked actually stricken at the news that his friend had died. “He was a great DJ and him and me set up Rave Central together three years ago or something. He thought the kinds of clubs he used to play were charging people through the nose, and wanted to offer a cheaper alternative for people who lived to party—our kind of people. And that’s when Rave Central was born. We organized our parties in empty factories, under bridges, in houses targeted for demolition, cargo boats, and of course out in the woods, when the weather permitted.”

  “Also in office buildings under construction?” asked Chase.

  “No, that we didn’t do. Too dangerous,” he explained. “And also we didn’t want to attract too much attention, or get in trouble with the law.”

  “So three nights ago,” said Chase, “did you also organize one of your raves?”

  Todd thought back for a moment, then nodded. “Yep. Three nights ago we were in the woods. I remember because it was one of the best nights we ever had. Very large attendance, and Darryl really was on fire that night—played one of his best sets ever.”

  “Was he there with his girlfriend Suzy Bunyon?” asked Odelia.

  “Suzy, yeah. Well, Darryl had lots of girlfriends,” said Todd with a grin. “But yeah, he was with Suzy that night. I saw her pop up behind the turntables a couple of times.”

  “You do realize Suzy is underage?” asked Chase sternly.

  “Um… no, actually I didn’t know that,” said the rave organizer, shifting a little uncomfortably. “She told me she was twenty-three.”

  “She’s seventeen.”

  “Yeah, well, a lot of these girls that went for Darryl big time were very young. And it’s not as if we checked their ID at the door or something,” he added apologetically.

  “So when you were out in the woods the other night, you didn’t happen to notice anything out of the ordinary?” asked Odelia.

  “Like what?”

  “Like this man,” said Chase, and showed Todd a drawing of John Doe a sketch artist had created.

  “Nah,” he said after a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this guy. Why? Something happened that I should know about?”

  “This man was found dead,” Chase explained. “And according to what we now know he was shot and killed the same night you were out partying close by.”

  Todd shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about that. We’re a peace-and fun-loving community, and we don’t go in for violence in any way, shape or form.” He shifted again. “So what happened to Darryl if I may ask? How did he die?”

  “As far as we can ascertain he accidentally fell to his death in an elevator shaft that was under construction,” said Chase.

  “An elevator shaft? Where was this?”

  “A new office building on Carmel Street.”

  “Carmel Street. What was he doing out there?”

  “That’s what we’d like to know. Do you have a recent address for Mr. Farmer?”

  “Well, he used to live at Lucy’s place.”

  “Lucy Hale.”

  Todd nodded. “Yeah, but she kicked him out last month, and he’d been shacking up with me, and intermittently couch surfing with some other friends.”

  “He didn’t come home last night?”

  Todd shook his head. “He was supposed to, but then Darryl liked to live moment to moment, you know. I just figured he’d met a friend and had decided to spend the night there. I wasn’t too worried until this morning. We were supposed to go over the playlist for tonight, and when he didn’t show up I tried to get him on the phone. No response.”

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. Park?” asked Chase.

  “Well, I’m a banker, actually. I work for Capital First Bank.” He smiled when he saw the looks of surprise on Odelia and Chase’s faces. “Yeah, banker by day, raver by night. I know it looks a little weird, but I like it this way. I give my days to the establishment, and my nights to the anti-establishment. It seems like a nice balance.”

  Odelia and Chase got up, a clear sign the interview was over. “Oh, one more question,” said Chase. “Before I forget. Did your friend own a car?”

  “No, he didn’t. Darryl didn’t believe in cars. He used his bike to get around.”

  “But then how did he get his DJ material all the way out to those woods?”

  “I took care of the logistics. Darryl just showed up to do this thing.” He smiled. “Here, I’ll show you a clip of Darryl in action.” He took out his phone and for the next five minutes we were treated to a medley of the best of Darryl Farmer—mainly techno music as far as I could tell. Not exactly my thing, but Odelia and Chase seemed to enjoy it.

  “What is that noise, Max?” asked Dooley after a moment.

  “It’s music, Dooley!” I said, yelling to be heard over the loud noise.

  “Music? I thought it was a fire drill!”

  “It’s called techno music!” I yelled. “Or house!”

  “Whose house?”

  “No, the name of the music genre is house!”

  “I don’t get it!”

  And frankly neither did I. And consequently I was very happy to get out of there!

  Chapter 21

  “So what do we have?” asked Odelia as she checked her notes while Chase did the same. They were in Chase’s office at the precinct, going over their recent discoveries and trying to figure out where they stood. “We have a John Doe found in the woods—shot at close range with a .38 caliber firearm. We have Karl Bunyon out and about in those same woods that same night, dumping his wife’s cat and a bunch of other cats and claiming he didn’t see or hear anything suspicious. And we have a rave, also in those woods, attended by dozens of ravers, amongst whom is Bunyon’s stepdaughter Suzy, and DJ’d by Darryl Farmer, Suzy’s boyfriend, who just happened to be found dead at the bottom of an elevator shaft two nights later.” She looked up. “Did I miss anything?”

  “No, you summed it up pretty well,” said Chase. “So what do you think the connection is?”

  “I think it just might be that Darryl Farmer saw something he wasn’t supposed to see—the killer maybe—and that he was shoved down that elevator shaft for his trouble.”

  “We can’t rule out that it was an accidental death,” Chase pointed out.

  “No sign of a struggle?”

  “Nothing to indicate he met a violent death. Though as you say, he could have been pushed. It’s impossible to say without any witnesses.”

  “What I don’t like is this connection between Karl Bunyon and Darryl.”

  “Suzy Bunyon.”

  Odelia nodded. “What are the chances of Darryl being at the same place at the same time as Karl’s stepdaughter, and of two people ending up dead soon
after?”

  “Slim.”

  “Very slim.”

  “But what’s the connection?”

  “Frankly I have no idea, Chase. But it’s too much of a coincidence if you ask me.”

  “No, I think you’re absolutely right. As I see it our friendly neighborhood catnapper was out in the woods that night, dumping his wife’s cats, and he was caught by John Doe. So he shot him and buried him to prevent the truth from coming out. But unfortunately for him Darryl Farmer, his stepdaughter’s boyfriend, also ran into him, recognized him, and so he decided that Darryl had to die, too, for being another annoying witness.”

  “This is all speculation, you do realize that, right?”

  “Oh, sure, but do you have a better explanation?”

  “None,” she had to admit.

  “One dead body could be explained away as an unfortunate coincidence, but a second one?” Chase got up. “I think I’m going to get myself a nice arrest warrant and talk to our catnapper again, only this time not in the comfort of his own home but here at the precinct. And I’m going to take a closer look at the man’s house and place of business.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to turn anything up?”

  “You know? A good cop follows his instincts, and right now my instinct is to go after Karl Bunyon—big time.”

  While Chase and Odelia were in conference inside, Dooley and I had decided to take a little break from the investigative efforts and go for a walk instead. I may be a curious kitty, and so is Dooley, but being subjected to that impromptu rave party had frankly rattled me, and I needed some peace and quiet and fresh air to boot! Also, my ears were still ringing, and my nose was twitching. I guess I’m not cut out to be a raver. Or a DJ.

  And so it was that Dooley and I were roaming around outside, and soon found ourselves circling the benches and trees on Town Square, waiting for Odelia to emerge from her conference with new and fresh instructions.

  And as we took our sojourn under a nearby tree and enjoyed a lie-down, who did we happen to see but our friend the head raver, in the company of… Suzy Bunyon!

  The pink-haired minx was crying profusely, and Todd Park, his beefy arm around her shoulder, was doing his utmost to console her. And since there seemed to be no danger of Todd bringing out his DJ set and turning Town Square into the scene of one of his raves, Dooley and I decided to move a little closer and see if we could pick up what they were discussing.

  “But what happened, Todd? He was fine yesterday, and now suddenly he’s dead!”

  “I don’t know, Suzy. All I know is what the police told me: he had an accident and fell down an elevator shaft.”

  “But what was he doing out there?”

  “I have no idea. He wasn’t meeting you by any chance, was he?”

  “Definitely not,” said the girl, wiping at her eyes with a paper tissue helpfully supplied by the banker-slash-raver. “You don’t think he was out there with some other girl, do you?”

  “I don’t know, Suzy.”

  “If he was, you would tell me, right?” she asked, giving him a slightly suspicious look. “I know he was your best friend, but you have to tell me the truth, Todd. If he was cheating on me with some bimbo, I have a right to know.”

  “He wasn’t cheating on you, Suzy. If he was, I would have known about it. Darryl and I had no secrets from each other.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, sniffling. “Darryl was always so popular. It made me feel very insecure and he knew that.”

  “You were the only one for him, Suzy, I swear.”

  “Yeah, that’s what he said, but you know what he was like. He left Lucy for me, and when he did my friends all told me that soon it would be my turn. I’d find myself in the same position and I’d discover he was cheating on me with some other girl.”

  “Look, I have no idea what happened, all right? But it was an accident. So he must have been out there for some reason, and it was dark, and he missed a step and fell in. That’s all I know.”

  “He could have been scouting the place, I suppose,” she said doubtfully.

  “He could have, although we always said we’d never do construction sites. Too dangerous. But then who knows what he was thinking. Darryl liked to live on the edge.”

  “He did. That’s what I loved about him. And now he’s de-ea-ea-ea-ead!”

  “She seems really sad, Max,” said Dooley as Todd took out more paper tissues and handed them to the crying teenager.

  “Yeah, she does,” I said.

  “So at least she didn’t kill him.”

  “No, at least there’s that,” I said, as this case was starting to look a little opaque in my opinion.

  “You do think he was murdered, don’t you, Max?”

  “I don’t know, Dooley. So far it looks like an accident, but then you never know.”

  “If it was an accident, it’s a very big coincidence that the stepdaughter of the man who was out in those woods was dating the dead man,” said Dooley, causing me to regard him with mounting admiration.

  “Exactly what I was thinking, Dooley.”

  “It’s all very confusing,” my friend said.

  “Of course it could all be unconnected. The dead man in the woods, and the dead DJ.”

  Dooley cut me a knowing look. “Max, how long have we been helping Odelia solve these mysteries?”

  “Um, a long time?” I ventured.

  “And how many times has something like this turned out to be a simple coincidence?”

  “Um, never?”

  “So I think we both know this won’t be a coincidence either.”

  He was right, of course. But then how did it all fit together? That was what I’d like to know.

  Chapter 22

  And since we couldn’t exactly make heads or tails of the whole thing, and when Odelia finally emerged from her meeting with Chase and told us she was going into the office to work on some of her articles and we were free to do as we pleased, we decided to head on home. Sometimes the best thing you can do to solve a mystery is to do exactly nothing. No, that’s not entirely true: the best thing is to take a step back, and let things stew for a while.

  Something was definitely stewing when we arrived home, for a large container stood parked in front of Marge and Tex’s place, and workers were walking in and out pushing wheelbarrows loaded up with what looked like debris and dumping them into the container.

  “Are Marge and Tex redecorating, Max?” asked Dooley as we sat taking in the scene for a few moments before venturing inside.

  “I don’t know, Dooley, but it certainly looks that way.”

  But since the front of the house looked a little dangerous for two small cats such as ourselves to pass through those front lines, we decided to circle around and attack the thing from the rear, always a good strategy in times of war—or house renovations.

  But the back of the house was even worse, and the kitchen was unrecognizable: workers were pounding with very big pneumatic hammers at the wall that divides the kitchen from the living room, and already large holes had been created. So either this was a rave, judging from the sound those jackhammers made, or something even worse!

  “They’re destroying the whole house, Max!” said Dooley.

  “Looks that way,” I agreed, equally annoyed that nobody had bothered to send us the memo that our home was going to be a construction site for the foreseeable future.

  And then we saw Gran, who stood at the heart of all the hubbub, a yellow hard hat placed on her head, and a dust mask in front of her face. She was discussing something with a very large and burly man, who also had a hard hat on his head, and was dressed in blue coveralls. From time to time he yelled something to the other people destroying Marge and Tex’s nice house, and then he resumed his conference with Gran.

  “Gran!” yelled Dooley. “What is happening!”

  But of course she didn’t hear us. And then when a large piece of ceiling dropped down on the kitchen floor, it looked like thi
ngs were turning ugly, and we beat a strategic retreat.

  We regrouped in Odelia’s house, which, much to our delight, wasn’t the scene of men with hard hats using power tools to tear down the walls. Things there were exactly as they’d always been, and we discovered that our food bowls were still there, and filled to the brim, too, and so were our litter boxes—though luckily not filled to the brim.

  “What’s going on?” asked Dooley. His question was addressed to Harriet and Brutus who sat on the couch, looking particularly glum.

  “Gran has started her kitchen remodel,” said Harriet, “only she forgot to tell Marge.”

  “She’ll blow a fuse when she gets home and discovers what Gran has done,” said Brutus.

  “That’s not a kitchen remodel,” I said. “They’re tearing down walls!”

  “Gran mentioned something about wanting to open the place up,” said Harriet. “She wants to turn the entire downstairs into one big space, and get rid of the sitting room out in front. She said she discussed it with Marge and she agreed—though I doubt it.”

  “Is this Fred Kramer’s crew?” I asked.

  “No, it’s some contractor Gran found somewhere. I think they’re Polish. First they’ll create some more space downstairs and then when that’s finished Fred Kramer will come in and install the new kitchen they ordered.”

  “Gran wants more light,” said Brutus. “She complained the old house was too dark.”

  “Well, she is right about that,” I agreed. “The living room was pretty dark.”

  “I think when it’s all over, it’s going to look great,” said Harriet. “Airy and bright.”

  “Let’s hope so,” said Brutus.

  “So what have you been doing?” asked Harriet, addressing her question to me.

  “Oh, just this and that,” I said.

  “Odelia and Chase interviewed the ex-girlfriend of the man who fell down the shaft,” said Dooley, “and also his best friend. And they seem to think Karl Bunyon had something to do with the whole thing, because the dead man dated Karl’s stepdaughter. Oh, and also they were both out in the woods on the same night at the same time.”