by Tegan Maher
I kept an eye out for any wayward black cat grabbers. I didn’t see any, but there was a witch with a pointy hat and a green warted nose that seemed to be taking every turn we were.
Was she following us?
Hard to tell because I thought I saw a vampire skulking along behind her, ducking into doorways. They couldn’t both be following us. Then again, there were dozens of witches and vampires, and they all sort of looked the same after a while.
Ray entered the train station, and I snuck through the door on his heels. You wouldn’t believe how many places I’ve snuck into where cats weren’t allowed. No one ever noticed me, either, because I usually skulked around the edges and shadows. My sleek black fur helped me blend in like a shadow. And my finely honed instincts allowed me to dart into a corner or hide behind something if I sensed anyone looking.
The station was busy, and I kept to the perimeter as we made our way toward the lockers. Each one had a padlock, but that didn’t concern me. Ray was pretty good at picking locks.
He cracked his knuckles and got to work on the lock while I stood ready to provide a distraction if necessary. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to us. People bustled along to their destinations—some in costumes, some with pointy hats, and some with bags. No jack-o’-lanterns in sight.
“Got it!” Ray pulled the lock off and slowly opened the locker. “What the…”
I could tell by the way his forehead wrinkled there was no pumpkin inside. Of course, I hadn’t been expecting one. That would have been too easy.
He pulled out a plastic bag with the emblem of a cigar-smoking ghost on it and looked inside. “Candy? Who keeps candy in a locker?”
No one. There must be some meaning. We’d better take it with us.
“We better take it with us. Might be a clue in here,” Ray said as if he’d thought of it. He glanced around then closed the locker and put the padlock back on.
As we started outside, I kept on the lookout for the witch and vampire I thought I’d seen following us. It probably had been my imagination because they were nowhere in sight now. The spookiest character I saw was a clown.
We started back to the office, Ray looking into the bag again. “Maybe they hid a note in the candy or…”
His voice drifted off. He was thinking the same as me. What in the world did a bag of candy have to do with a stolen pumpkin?
Ray’s attention was so focused on the bag that he didn’t notice the clown that had suddenly come up close behind us. I tried to warn him with a hiss and a meow, but he didn’t take heed. Before I knew it, the clown had shoved Ray into a dark alley.
“Merow!” I let out my loudest bloodcurdling screech to scare him off, but the clown wasn’t fazed.
He shoved Ray down into the alley, his fuzzy red hair bobbing as he clubbed Ray over the head with his brass horn, grabbed the bag of candy, and ran.
I took off in hot pursuit. Ray was just dazed, and I could double back and help him out soon enough. I knew I had to find out where the clown was going. He couldn’t possibly go very far or very fast in those giant shoes.
2
As predicted, the clown didn’t go far. I caught him disappearing into O’Donnell’s basement bar as I shot out of the alley. I charged for the door to the bar. Too late—it closed in my face. Just as well, a bar was no place for a cat. Sticky floors. People spilling drinks. No one looking down. A feline could get injured in a bar like O’Donnell’s.
I rushed back to get Ray. He had no problem going into bars, even if it was before noon.
“There you are.” He was holding the side of his head where the clown had clubbed him. “Are you okay?”
He picked me up. I don’t really like being picked up, but sometimes I tolerate it since I know the human likes it. Plus, I couldn’t help but try to make him feel better because he was looking me over with a worried expression as if he was the one looking after my welfare. Boy, did he have that backward.
I meowed and rubbed my face against his shoe. Another thing the humans seemed to appreciate.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“Meow.” I trotted to the end of the alley and jerked my head in the direction of O’Donnell’s.
“Hmmm, the clown took off that way. Maybe we should take a walk down there and see what we can see. Clearly, there was more to that bag of candy than I imagined.”
We started down the street, and I stopped in front of O’Donnell’s and telegraphed to Ray the idea that the clown had gone in there.
He glanced around the street then back at the bar, which was in the basement of a tall brick building. “This would be a perfect place for a clown to duck into in order to hide.” He glanced down at me. “You stay here.”
No problem there. In fact, I had some friends out behind the bar, and I was fixing to see if they knew anything about this clown. Ray went inside, and I trotted out back.
“A clown? One came bursting out that door just a few minutes ago.” Svetlana, a Persian with sapphire blue eyes, flicked her whiskers and nodded her head toward the street. “Went that way.”
“What do you want with a clown?” Murray, a black-and-tan tiger-striped cat, asked.
“He knocked Ray out in the alley and stole a bag of candy.”
“You want the clown or the bag? Because the bag’s in the dumpster.” Bart, a ginger tiger cat, hopped onto the top of the dumpster and peered in. “It’s sitting right on top. Should be easy to get.”
I glanced around, hoping someone would volunteer, but no such luck. I hated dumpster diving even if there was something like lobster or scallops inside. But one has to do what one has to do. I took a deep breath, bounded up onto the rim, and dived inside.
It smelled like sour milk and wilted lettuce. The contents shifted under my weight. My paws felt slimy. I grabbed the bag with my teeth and hopped back out. Yech.
I dropped the bag and shook myself, trying to get the debris off my meticulously groomed fur. I wiped my paws on the pavement to get the grease off. The bag looked a lot less full than when Ray had taken it out of the locker.
“What’s so great about this bag?” Bart asked.
“Not sure. We’re working on a case, and this is part of it. Except when the clown took it, it was full of candy.” I clawed the top open and poked my head inside. One candy remained.
“The Case of the Candy-Eating Clown?” Bart joked.
“That’s a good name for it. But I don’t think he could have eaten all this candy in the time he’s had the bag. Plus, he was running away for most of it. He either gave it to someone else or stashed it somewhere.”
Out on the street, I heard Ray whistle. I grabbed the handle of the bag with my teeth. “Better bring this out to him; sometimes you need to make things really obvious for him to notice.”
I dragged the bag out to the end of the alley.
Ray turned. “What the heck?”
I let go of the handle and resisted the urge to throw up. It tasted like French fries and stale beer.
Ray bent down to look at the bag.
“Hey, this is the bag that clown took!” His tone held surprise, as if I hadn’t delivered him clues a million times before. He petted my head. “Good job.”
He started back to the office, and I fell in step behind him. I wasn’t sure if I was more nervous that the same witch from before seemed to be following us or that Ray didn’t even notice.
3
Back at the office, I took up the nap position. The sun had shifted, so I lounged on the sunny spot of the couch while Ray inspected the bag and lone piece of candy at his desk.
Lucky for me, he has the habit of talking things through with me. I don’t think he believes I can understand him, but with no partner, he apparently needed someone to work through his ideas with out loud. It was a good thing he did that because I needed to know what he found out in the bar to figure out how to proceed with the case.
“How could no one have seen a clown run into the bar?” he blurted as he lo
oked at the candy bar with a giant magnifying glass, which distorted his eye to five times the size.
“I mean, a clown is pretty distinctive. And why did it take the candy and leave this one piece?”
I’d asked myself that question too. Clearly, it was a mistake. But what was so special about the candy? Obviously, nothing Ray could see with his magnifying glass.
“Maybe if I take it out of the wrapper.” The crinkling sounds of candy being unwrapped awakened my senses. Not because of the candy. Because of the wrapper. My paws itched to bat it around. Hopefully, Ray would leave it crumpled on the desk, and I could push it off later.
But Ray didn’t crumple it and toss it onto his desk. He smoothed it carefully and inspected it inside and out before turning his inspection to the candy itself. “Maybe something is inside.”
He was just cutting the bar into small pieces when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in.” Ray’s tone rose at the end like he was asking a question.
A man stormed in, fists raised. “She’s mine!”
Ray leaned back in the chair, palms held up in front of him. “Whoa there, buddy. Who are you talking about?”
“Sonja. I know you’re the guy that she’s cheating with!”
Uh-oh, a jealous lover. This wasn’t the first time that had happened, except the other times Ray really was involved with the girl. I stretched and started washing behind my ears, ready to lend assistance or at least watch a good fight.
“You got it wrong, pal. I’m a private detective.” Ray pointed to the door with his name and the words “Private Detective” stenciled in gold on the glass. “She hired me.”
The man looked confused but wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet. He steadied his fists in front of his face and started bouncing around. “I don’t believe you. I saw her come in here, and I know she’s got someone else! Why would she need a private detective?”
Ray stood slowly, still holding his palms up to try and calm the guy. “Someone stole her pumpkin.”
The man frowned. “That sounds like a story. Who cares about a stolen pumpkin?”
“Seemed like she was kind of attached to it. And it was going to win a prize.”
“You’re lying! I know she’s been lying to me about staying late at baking class.”
“Okay, see, that proves it’s got nothing to do with me. I don’t bake.”
“A likely story. I’m not dumb enough to just believe you. And to think, I’ve been working long hours to save that down payment for the house we wanted, and she’s been filling that time with you!”
Despite the fact that he was still jumping around with his fists up, the guy looked like he was about to cry.
Ray slid out from behind the desk slowly. “She mentioned you. You must be Tommy Piccolo.”
“Who? I don’t know any Tommy. I’m Mike Stevens. Did she say Tommy Piccolo was her boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend.”
“I’m not an ex. I’m current.”
That was an interesting wrinkle. Sonja hadn’t mentioned a current boyfriend, just her ex. Maybe the guy was just confused. He could be some kind of delusional stalker or something.
“Tommy must have been the guy before you,” Ray said.
“No. That guy was named Lou. What kind of a PI are you, anyway? You can’t even get the boyfriends straight.”
“Are you sure? Sonja said she thought her ex might have taken the pumpkin.”
“I don’t have any pumpkin, and I’m not her ex. I never heard of Tommy Piccolo.” Mike stopped bouncing around, and his eyes got squinty. “Hey, wait a minute. This Tommy Piccolo might be the guy she’s been cheating with! When I find him, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind!”
He rushed out the door without a backward glance.
Ray’s gaze met mine, and I knew we were thinking the same thing. Someone was lying to us. The question was… who?
Ray shut the door after Mike and went back behind the desk.
“Someone is lying to us.” He leaned back in his chair, the springs creaking. “The guy seemed steamed, but maybe it was an act.”
Maybe they’re both lying, I thought. This whole thing stank like the litter box in a house with five cats.
Ray leaned forward again, looking at the candy on his desk. “This case is loaded with strange things. A stolen pumpkin. A candy-stealing clown. A nonexistent boyfriend.”
Don’t forget about the witch and vampire tailing us. Of course, Ray hadn’t noticed those.
He got back to the task of dissecting the candy, cutting it into small pieces. “Nothing in here. I was hoping to find a clue.”
Enough with the candy. We needed to get things rolling. Maybe a call to the client was in order. We already had her five hundred bucks, but there was no sense in continuing for the other five Benjamins if things were going to get dicey. Better to spend our time trying to snag that reward for the jewel theft.
I hopped on the desk and started batting at the card Sonja had left. It was good-quality, thick card stock with black-embossed letters in script and a gold edge.
Ray watched me for a while then said, “I know. I’ll just give Sonja a call. Maybe she can explain this. That guy could have been a nutter.”
I went back to my spot on the couch while Ray made the call. I was starting to get hungry. I eyed my stainless-steel bowl in the corner. Maybe after Ray talked to Sonja, I’d stand over it and meow so he’d feed me.
Judging by the way Ray held the phone to his ear and made a repertoire of faces, no one answered. “Huh, that’s weird. No way to leave a message. I’ll have to try later.”
Meanwhile, maybe we should check out this Tommy Piccolo. I telegraphed the idea in his direction. I was getting really hungry now, and it was interfering with my ability to think. I hopped down and padded over to the bowl.
Ray didn’t notice because he’d leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “Now... what should we do next?”
“Meow.” I stood over the bowl, casting imploring looks in his direction.
“Maybe we should have lunch.”
Good idea.
But instead of coming over to fill my bowl, Ray became interested in the candy on his desk. “Snickers, my favorite.” He picked up a piece and popped it into his mouth.
“Mew!” I replied with a more urgent tone while telegraphing a reminder that I was hungry too.
Ray chewed happily for a few seconds, then…
“Ouch!” His hands flew to his jaw. He leaped up and started stomping around the room holding his jaw and yelling expletives. “I think I miffed a moof.”
That would be a shame. Dentists were expensive, but I was more interested in seeing what he’d chipped his tooth on. Could be a clue.
Gulp!
Had he just swallowed it?
He took his hand away from his jaw, stomped over to the desk, and scowled at the rest of the candy pieces. “What in the world was in there? It’s not safe these days with people putting things in candy. Sickos.” He rubbed his stomach. “I hope I don’t get sick.”
He examined the rest of the pieces but didn’t find anything else. “I wonder what was in there.”
Guess we’d have to wait to find out.
4
I finally got through to Ray about feeding me (canned tuna, one of my favorites) and going to check out Tommy Piccolo. Ray googled him after lunch and got an address and directions on his phone. According to him, it was nearby, so we started to walk.
I was too busy keeping an eye out for the witch and vampire to pay much attention to where we were going.
Yep, they were following us again. I was sure they were the same ones from before. Well, mostly sure. There were a lot of people in costume to celebrate the holiday, so it’s possible they were different, but I was sure I recognized the warts on the witch’s nose.
I could tell the two of them weren’t together. Maybe the vampire was following the witch and the witch was following us. I couldn’t be sure. E
ither way, it was disturbing.
I tried to indicate the tail to Ray by doing my usual routine of hopping on the back of a bench in front of him and then looking behind us, but he didn’t notice.
“What are you doing, Earl? Get down from there.”
He motioned for me to get down as if I would obey his command. I did get down because we needed to continue on, but not before showing him the underside of my tail in an explicit gesture to let him know what I thought of his commands.
Ray walked ahead, blissfully unaware of our tail.
I was so busy keeping my eye on them that I didn’t notice he’d stopped in front of some place very familiar.
O’Donnell’s bar.
Ray looked at the building then at his phone. “It says 2010 Cross Street. That’s this building. I don’t think that’s any coincidence.”
He glanced down at me, and I preened a whisker.
“I’m going to go see if he’s home.” Ray started toward the building.
I wanted to see if he was home too. Besides, Ray might need me if he got in a bind. I followed him in. Oddly, he didn’t seem to think that was weird; after all this time, he was used to his cat just tagging along.
The foyer was dimly lit. There was a landing and stairs that led down to the bar on the right. I knew it was the bar because it smelled like happy hour. Plus, there was music.
To the left was a set of stairs that led up to a second floor. At the foot of the stairs, the wall had a row of four brass mail slots with names on them.
“Tommy Piccolo, apartment 2B,” Ray recited. I guess he didn’t realize I could read.
We took the stairs to the left. I glanced behind us every third step. It wouldn’t be good if the vampire or the witch ambushed us in here.
At the top of the stairs, we turned right into a dirty corridor that smelled like bacon grease. The black-and-white floor tile looked like it had been there since 1940. Piccolo’s place was to the right of the stairs.