Death at the Dog Show

by Grace York

  Addison examined the photos while Isaac and Adam carried on lamenting their lack of a smoking gun. Richard Divola had indeed managed to spread himself far and wide at the presentation dinner. He'd been pictured talking to people from at least five different tables on Saturday night.

  Addison remembered Josie saying Divola was a groomer from Riverwood. He'd accused Josie of poaching his customers, hadn't he? It was a ridiculous idea, Josie was too professional for something like that. It said something about Divola that he would accuse her, though.

  Josie had also said that he believed he'd never win best in show while ever Perry Abbot was the judge. She said as much to the group.

  "That gives him a definite motive, doesn't it?" she asked.

  "Yes," said Adam, "but then the timing doesn't make sense. If he wanted to win, why would he murder the judge right in the middle of the show? Surely whoever did it would have to know that the rest of the show would be cancelled. That no winner would be awarded."

  "Maybe no winner was better than losing?" suggested Diaz.

  "Not for these people," said Short. "They're all about the competition. No result would be just the same as losing to them." Four pairs of eyes continued to stare at her. "I have an aunt who's right into the dog show thing," she explained.

  "Was your aunt there on Saturday night?" asked Isaac.

  "No, she's not from around here. But they're just as passionate down in Victoria."

  "So that has to count against any of the competitors being the murderer then," said Addison. "Why would they kill the judge if they knew the rest of the show would be cancelled, and Best in Show not awarded?"

  "Unless they didn't care about winning," said Adam.

  "Or in the case of Richard Divola, they cared about winning the next competition," said Diaz. "I looked into it – Perry Abbott has been the head judge for all the dog shows in the region for the last eight years. Before that he was a competitor, and he won a lot, too. He's had a monopoly on the whole scene for over a decade. Maybe Divola got sick of it, and when he found out about the strychnine, he saw a chance to take him out to make things better for himself in the future."

  Isaac shrugged. "It's a theory," he said after a moment's contemplation.

  "What did Divola say when you asked him about the poison?" asked Addison.

  "He admitted knowing Clayton was using it for a baiting program, but he denied stealing the leftovers."

  "Well he would, wouldn't he?" said Short.

  There were nods all around, and no-one spoke for a while. Diaz and Short focused on their computers, while Addison, Adam, and Isaac continued staring at the photos. As much as she tried, Addison couldn't find anything in them that jumped out as a clue.

  "Okay, let's recap," said Isaac eventually. He plucked a clear picture of Richard Divola from the photo wall. "This guy had means, motive, and opportunity. He knew the Claytons had strychnine, he had a long-running feud with the victim, he believed he wouldn't win the ultimate prize while Perry Abbott remained head judge, and he was at the dinner with enough opportunity to put the poison in the glass."

  He pulled a strip of tape from a dispenser and fixed the photograph to the white board, then went back to the wall and found a picture of Sam and Vanessa Clayton.

  "The poison came from the Clayton's farm. If they're telling the truth that it was stolen, it would be very easy to fake that break-in. Sam Clayton admitted the shed itself is never locked, and practically anyone can bust open a padlock if they apply enough force. There were tools in the shed that could have done the job, or the murderer could have brought their own."

  "Thief," said Adam.

  "Huh?"

  "You said murderer, but that assumes the person who stole the strychnine is the same person who poisoned the victim. It might not be."

  Isaac sighed, and Addison stifled a giggle.

  "Okay, the thief could have brought their own tool to break the padlock. The point is, anyone could have stolen the poison."

  "If the Clayton's are telling the truth," Addison reminded him.

  "Right. And if they're not, what's their motive? We haven't been able to find any issues between them and Perry Abbott. In fact, Mrs Clayton was favourite to win best in show. Why would she want the judge dead?"

  "So they have means and opportunity, but no motive," said Addison.

  "That we know of," said Short.

  Isaac made notes under both photos on the white board. Means, motive, and opportunity for Richard Divola; means and opportunity for the Claytons. He straightened and stretched his back before refocusing on the photo wall.

  "Who else have we got?"

  "What about the wife?" asked Adam. "The spouse is always a suspect in a murder, aren't they?"

  "I've interviewed Helen Abbott twice now," said Isaac. "Plus I called her last night to let her know we're making progress. I haven't ruled her out, but nothing is jumping out at me about her."

  "Does she have a motive?" asked Addison.

  "Perry Abbott had a life insurance policy," said Short, "which Helen stands to collect. But it's been in place for decades and hasn't been altered for years. They also have a large house and an investment portfolio, which they were planning to use to fund their upcoming travel."

  "Was any of the travel already planned?" asked Adam.

  "Not in any great detail," said Isaac. "Mrs Abbott showed us a scrapbook she kept of all the places they'd wanted to visit together. They were waiting until this year's show season was over, and then they were going to start traveling."

  "What about means and opportunity?" asked Addison.

  Isaac leaned against one of the spare desks. "She definitely had the opportunity to spike his glass," he said. "She was sitting right next to him. We haven't found any connection between her and the strychnine, though."

  "How did she seem?" asked Adam. "About her husband's death, I mean?"

  Isaac shrugged. "The grieving widow. If she was putting it on, she did a good job. I was convinced."

  "Is it customary to give a suspect a progress report on the case?" asked Adam. He earned himself a stern look before Isaac answered.

  "It's customary to keep the victim's spouse updated as to how the investigation is progressing, without giving away pertinent details."

  Adam just nodded. All five of them stared at each other for a moment, and Addison started to feel slightly uncomfortable.

  "I think we should still keep her in the picture," said Short, breaking the silence.

  "I agree," said Adam. He took it upon himself to pluck a picture of Helen Abbott from the photo wall and stick it on the whiteboard.

  Addison noticed Isaac raise his eyebrows. She was about to suggest she and Adam leave before Adam got himself kicked off the volunteer squad, but Isaac beat her to it.

  "You want to do me a favour, Adam?"

  Adam's eyes lit up. "Name it."

  "Can you go into Riverwood and check out the Compounding Pharmacy there? They were the ones who sold Sam Clayton the strychnine."

  "Of course! You want me to interview the staff? See if I can find any witnesses?"

  "No, definitely not. Don't talk to anyone. I want you to scope the place out, see if anything odd turns up. Can you do that?"

  Adam grinned. "Go undercover? For sure, boss. I'm your man!"

  16

  "Was that wise?" Addison asked Isaac once Adam had left. She'd given the young man the keys to her car to drive into Riverwood on his undercover mission.

  The corner of Isaac's mouth turned up in a cheeky half-smile. "We've already interviewed the head pharmacist. He can't do any harm, and you never know, he might just uncover something we missed."

  "Maybe," said Addison. "So do you want to get rid of me as well?"

  "No, you can stay."

  Addison's feet were getting sore from standing, so she took the opportunity to rest and seated herself at one of the two spare desks in the room. She found herself facing the whiteboard with its photographs of the three suspects
so far taped in a line at the top. Richard Divola, Sam and Vanessa Clayton, and Helen Abbott. There was also the list down the side that Isaac had made yesterday, with Ted King at the top.

  "How were your interviews with the rest of the dinner attendees?" Addison asked Isaac. "I don't suppose anyone saw anything suspicious?"

  The detective shook his head. "We spent hours and ended up with nothing terribly useful," he said. "People think they make great witnesses. They'll swear blind that things happened a certain way, and they'll have you convinced, until you speak to the person standing next to them who swears equally enthusiastically to a completely different version of events." He nodded at the photo wall. "This is much better evidence."

  "They were all consistent on one thing, though," said Short.

  "What was that?" asked Addison.

  "That Perry Abbott was an arrogant and disagreeable man. We didn't find many people who liked the head judge at all."

  "Yes, that's what Mrs Jones and Juliet both told us," said Addison. "I'm beginning to feel grateful I never met him."

  Addison had no time for horrible people these days. There were enough lovely people in the world, and in her life, that she didn't need to waste her time on the nasty ones. She changed the subject. "What about Ted King? The other judge at the dog show besides Juliet. He was top of your suspect list yesterday. Have you interviewed him yet?"

  "No not yet. When we went to his house on Sunday he'd apparently just left to drive to Brisbane. His wife said he was working there for a few days, due to come home tomorrow evening. We'll speak to him then."

  "But he's still a suspect?"

  "Yes. A few witnesses mentioned he didn't like Abbott, and was keen to take over as head judge."

  "It's not much of a motive though, is it? I mean, by all accounts it seems like he wasn't alone in disliking the victim. And with the Abbotts heading off to travel next year, that got him out of the way with regards to the judging job. Surely Ted King didn't need to resort to murder?"

  Isaac nodded. "He's not my main suspect anymore, but we still want to talk to him when he returns tomorrow."

  Addison agreed. She checked the time; it was almost lunch. She should be heading back to the beach house. She'd have to walk as Adam had her car. Thinking of Adam reminded her of his idea yesterday about whether the dogs getting loose and running amok at the dinner on Saturday night had been deliberate, rather than an unfortunate accident. She explained the theory to the police officers.

  "You mean the killer let them loose as a diversion?" said Short. "So they could slip the poison in the victim's glass unnoticed?"

  "Yes. Well, possibly," said Addison. "The murder occurred at the gala dinner in front of a lot of people. I think we can safely say it was planned – the strychnine was stolen before the dinner took place. I doubt the killer just had it in their pocket waiting for the right moment. They knew they were going to poison Perry at that dinner. Don't you agree?"

  Isaac pushed away from the desk he'd been leaning on and stood at his full height. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the photo wall again.

  "Okay," he said. "Say I agree for now. What are you thinking?"

  "I'm thinking that if I'd planned to poison someone in the middle of a big crowd of people, I'd want to make sure no-one saw me do it. So I'd need a diversion. The dogs going crazy and knocking over tables worked perfectly."

  "So you think the killer caused the canine chaos?" asked Short.

  "Either they caused it, or they took full advantage of it," said Addison. She was beginning to like this theory. "It wasn't long after it all happened that Perry collapsed and died."

  Isaac nodded and continued to stare at the photos. Diaz and Short were both looking at Addison.

  "So who let the dogs out?" said Diaz with a smirk. "Sorry, couldn't resist," he added, holding up a hand to apologise for the bad joke. Addison suppressed a smile and turned to Isaac.

  "Can you see anything?"

  Isaac pointed to one photo in the middle of the wall. "There," he said. "Under the table. Can you see it?"

  Addison leaned in close and followed his finger. There was something underneath one of the tables, or rather someone, but Addison couldn't make out who it was. The tablecloth was covering their face. All she could see was a hand holding something, but she couldn't even make the object out.

  Isaac pulled the picture off the wall and handed it to Short. "Can you bring this one up on your screen?"

  Short nodded. She turned the photograph over and studied what was written on the back for a second, then went to work on her computer. Moments later the image filled her screen, and she zoomed in on the figure under the table.

  "It's a kid," said Diaz, leaning over from his own desk. "What's he holding?"

  "A slingshot," said Isaac. "The little—"

  "Can you tell who it is?" Addison interrupted.

  The three police officers all shook their heads.

  "What about that?" said Addison, pointing to the sleeve of the kid's shirt. It was red with a logo of some sort.

  "Can you print that out, Kendall?" asked Isaac. Short nodded and set to work, and the printer soon sprang to life. Isaac stood next to it and plucked the blown-up photograph off as soon as it popped out. He brought it over to the photo wall and held it up, running it along each row of pictures. It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for.

  "There," he said triumphantly, pointing to a picture of a boy around ten years old, standing with a group of similar-aged kids. "Anyone know who that is?"

  "I do," said Short, eyes narrowed, face stern. "It's my cousin."

  Isaac opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by his mobile phone. He checked the screen and answered the call.

  "Adam, what have you found?" Isaac listened for a moment, and Addison watched as his eyebrows raised and his face opened up. "Good work," he said, before ending the call and smiling at the others.

  "Looks like we have two more suspects to add to the board," he said. He took the photograph of Short's young cousin from the wall and taped it up on the board, much to Addison's surprise. She couldn't see a ten-year-old kid as a murderer. But before she could raise any objection Isaac had added another photo to the board.

  "Lucy McGregor? The volunteer? What did Adam find out about her?"

  "She works at the Riverwood Compounding Pharmacy," said Isaac. "The one that sold Sam Clayton the strychnine. Not only did she know he had the poison in the first place, she would have been one of the few people who knew he hadn't returned the unused portion."

  17

  By the time Addison walked home from the police station, having left Isaac and his team to gather more information on both Lucy McGregor and Short's ten-year-old cousin, it was well past lunch time. She wasn't terribly hungry anyway, so she decided to skip the sandwich she'd planned and make something nice for afternoon tea.

  Checking the fridge she found a carton of buttermilk that needed using. The first recipe using buttermilk that sprang to mind was coffee and walnut muffins, which sounded perfect. She remembered coming across a recipe recently in one of her favourite cooking magazines. As she retrieved all the ingredients and utensils she'd need, Adam entered the kitchen.

  "Are you getting an early start on tomorrow's baking?" he asked on his way to the fridge.

  "No," Addison replied. "I thought I'd make us some muffins for afternoon tea. Coffee and walnut."

  Adam's eyes lit up and he shut the fridge without taking anything out for a change. "Cool. I'll wait for those. I hung your keys up by the door, by the way. Thanks for the loan of the car."

  "Isaac tells me you found a lead for them to follow up. Lucy McGregor?"

  "Yeah. I went to the pharmacy, like he said, and sat outside for a while. I couldn't see much from there though, so I decided to go in and buy something. And that's when I saw her working behind the counter in the prescriptions section."

  "Did she see you?" Addison asked as she lined her favourite muffin pan with paper
cases.

  "It didn't matter. She doesn't know me. I wasn't at the dog show, remember? But I recognised her from the photos on the wall in the police station."

  "Good point. So Isaac said it means she possibly knew Sam Clayton had the strychnine, but also that he never returned what he didn't use."

  Adam took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen bench and watched Addison work. "Exactly. That's why I phoned him straight away." He couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

  "Well done, Adam," said Addison, and she was genuinely happy for him. She knew how good it felt to make a contribution to something so important.

  "What's the boy wonder done now?" asked Lenny, entering the kitchen from the back staircase. He was closely followed, as ever, by Brooke.

  "We've had a bit of a breakthrough in the case thanks to me," said Adam, still beaming.

  "I wouldn't go that far," said Addison. She poured the dry ingredients into a bowl and mixed them together before turning the coffee machine on. The recipe called for instant coffee to flavour the muffins, but she preferred to use a shot of espresso.

  "Well, okay. But I went undercover and found out something the cops didn't know."

  "Cool," said Brooke. She stood by the coffee machine. "Want me to make a coffee for you Addison?"

  "Yes please. Just the coffee though, no milk. It's for the muffins."

  Brooke put the machine to work, first delivering an espresso shot to Addison and then setting it again to make coffees for herself and Lenny.

  "These should be ready for afternoon tea soon if you want to wait," said Addison.

  Brooke and Lenny exchanged a glance. "We can have a coffee now and another one when the muffins are ready, can't we?" said Lenny.

  Brooke seemed to like that idea, so she continued what she was doing. Addison didn't know how the two of them slept at night, with all the coffee they drank during the day. At least they went out and bought extra beans and milk.

  "So what does this new information mean for the case?" asked Brooke. "Are the police any closer to solving it?"