Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  “Right on time, Chief Para Inspector,” he said with an extended hand. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

  David kept his face neutral as the men shook hands. I remained silent, feeling both disgust at the governor’s shady character, and awe at his astounding beauty. He was so …. classical.

  “And, of course, the divine Ms. Jenkins,” he said, taking my hand. “Business remains good at the Angel Apothecary, I trust?”

  “We get by,” I said to the man whom I suspected had once gotten away with murder. And on my watch.

  “As indeed we all do. Well, please…take a seat. I have a few minutes until my next appointment.”

  I sat down in the plush chair in front of the desk, scanning the room discreetly for my handpicked moggies. I saw Shade just before his eyes went ‘out,’ disappearing into the narrow edge of shadow at the bottom of the bookcase next to the window. I squinted slightly, and I could just make out his shape as he crept through the darkness. Midnight was in plain view, but out of the governor’s direct line of sight. Which was a blessing, because my night roaming cat had found a beam of sunlight filtering through the plate glass and was now sunning himself behind Shields’ back. My eyes nearly popped out of my head at my cat’s gall. Midnight turned his face upward toward the hazy shaft of light and closed his eyes. A soft kitty-smile gently stretched his furry cheeks, just to add to the ‘blissed out’ look on his face.

  Any second now. My forehead broke out in a cold sweat, as I faced the inevitable future of my sleuth-cat breaking out into a full purr, and blowing our cover. I knew his face, and that fuzzy face told me that a purr-a-thon was on the cards; and, soon. Midnight’s lips parted slightly. Oh, no, here it comes. I was going to have to feign a coughing fit so as to muffle my cat’s vocal appreciation of being baked alive by sunshine through glass. Out of nowhere a black paw shot out and bopped Midnight on the head. I watched the latter’s eyes spring open, as Midnight finally remembered what he was here for. I half watched as he slinked like a stealth furball toward Shields’ desk. To my horror, Shade was now hypnotized by the patch of sunlight. I watched in desperation as my Romeo cat flopped to the floor and rolled on his back to expose his tummy to the warming rays.

  I fully exaggerated clearing my throat. Shade’s ears flattened back, and he got to his feet, tossing me an awkward smile before he disappeared into the shadows again.

  “I imagine that you’ve come to talk about poor, deceased Morag,” Shields said, taking his chair.

  “Sad, but true,” David said, balancing his notepad on one knee as he searched for a pen. “What exactly was Morag’s connection to your office?” The chief asked as he rummaged in his jacket pockets.

  Shields gave my oldest friend a smirk that made me think his face would look better at the end of my fist. “It’s far from a popular notion that’s being applied to governments worldwide in these modern times, but Morag was the beneficiary of some good old-fashioned nepotism.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, she and her sister are members of a rather elite group of old-time Warlock families. The Devlin’s are one of six just such families, and we’ve, throughout the ages, always stuck to one another for support,” Shields explained, oblivious to my kitty creepers in the background. “These prestigious families lost almost everything in the Warlock Wars. While they had previously prospered via a frankly archaic feudal system, they had to turn to an actual profession in order to survive. They wisely chose the way of the lawyer.”

  “And, I’ve no doubt you’ve benefitted immensely from these ‘lawyers’ council, right?” I asked.

  “We ALL have, Ms. Jenkins,” Shields’ smiled warmly, but I could almost taste the venom in his words. “As I said, we families have stuck together. We lost so much in the wars, that it was, ah …. ‘prudent’ for us to help one another up the ladder, as it were. We kept relations tighter still, by training as lawyers and by entering Cathedral politics.” Shields tented his fingers on the desk. “And, I think, as you’ll probably agree yourselves, that we have done, and ARE doing an upstanding job.”

  David and I stared at the governor.

  “I’m still unclear as to how these families turning to the legal profession ties in with this office,” David said, pointing his pen at Shields.

  “Well, as you know, we don’t have a council at this level of government here,” Shields said. “Unofficially, the families serve as that council to the sitting governor. There have been instances in which some of my desires … I mean, decisions, have been overruled by their disapproval too, so you can see that this is a balanced, impartial cabinet.” Another obscene smirk.

  “Which decisions?” David said.

  Shields laughed. It sounded like jagged metal slicing through soft flesh. “I don’t kiss and tell, Chief Para Inspector. Suffice to say that these instances, while rare, have happened to me and more than a few of my predecessors.”

  Kitty claws pricked at my ankle. On the pretext of stretching, I looked down to see Midnight looking up at me from under the governor of Cathedral’s desk. He shook his head at me and mouthed ‘nothing.’ I gave my kitty a barely perceptible nod, and he withdrew his furry face to disappear back under the desk. Only he got his head stuck. At a weird sideward angle. I saw another pair of paws shoot out and wrap around Midnight’s forehead. The helping paws pulled, but Middie’s head remained ensnared, which was making his left cheek smush up in a furry bunch big enough to make his left eye close. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my leg out in front of me, nudging Midnight’s head with my toe. His head popped back through, making my leg surge forward and causing me to lurch in my chair.

  “Everything okay, Ms. Jenkins,” Gideon eyed me suspiciously. I swatted at my leg, my head wildly swiveling around the room pretending to look for a pesky mosquito. Shields' lips trembled in an uncertain smile.

  David asked, “So what is the official capacity of these families?”

  Gideon’s head shot back round to the chief. “They are a small legal firm with exactly one client: the government of Cathedral,” Shields explained. “Ms. Devlin was handling our various legal actions as they related to the Rock Grumlin population.”

  I felt my jaw clench. I had met those poor creatures in the bowels of the Glimmer Mountains, not ten minutes flight time from here. Despite their Freddy Krueger manicures and shy desire to hide in the shadows, they were some of the gentlest souls I had ever run across. Remembering their exploitation at the hands of this piece of political garbage made me wonder, not for the first time, if my first unfavorable impression of Morag was the right one after all.

  “And what of the other five families?” David asked. “What are their areas of expertise?”

  Shields hummed and shook his head. “Oh, how I wish I could help you answer that, CPI Trew. Regrettably, that gets into certain sensitive matters that I am not at liberty to speak of. I can tell you that the late Ms. Devlin’s duties will be spread out among the rest of the firm according to their ability.”

  Then, acting like a thought had just hit him, Gideon leaned his head to the left. That gave me an excuse to look at the shadows along the wall. I saw the outline of Shade creeping along the edges with something white in his mouth.

  “I’d suggest talking to Barnabus Kramp for further details,” Shields said. “He just so happens to be in today, which, trust me, is a rare occurrence. He’d have a better idea on what can and cannot be made public knowledge.”

  “There’s just one other thing I was curious about,” I said, putting my hand to my chin. “You and Mr. Kramp are very close friends, aren’t you?”

  Shields squinted at me. “Have been since we were six, yes.”

  “I understand that the two of you used to date the Dreddock sisters?”

  Shields’ eyes widened with a barely restrained look of hostility. “What about it?”

  I’d hit a sore spot. I decided to keep pushing. “Just that I’d heard that you wound up dating none other than Nebula Dr
eddock herself. What was that like?”

  “That was so long ago, I can barely remember it,” he answered, his flat tone telling me how little he appreciated the question.

  “As much as I would like to help the both of you, I’m afraid our time is up. I’ll phone Barnabus and let him know that you’re on your way, if that works for you?”

  “Perfectly,” David said, rising from his seat and putting away his pen and notepad in the same motion. “Thank you for your time.”

  “My pleasure,” Shields replied as they shook hands. He didn’t bother to grasp mine this time.

  I didn’t see any sign of Midnight or Shade as we departed from the spacious room. I tried not to worry. My fuzzy little roommates were veterans of many a break-in. They knew how not to get caught. I just hoped that the sunlight flooding into the room wouldn’t push them into primal cat-mode. We passed the receptionist’s desk, and, sure enough, my magical kitties were sitting politely straight-backed and side by side in the waiting area. David practically gasped “How did you two get out?”

  Midnight held up his right paw, exposing trailing fibers of Shields’ expensive rug, and also a slip of cat drool covered paper; the ‘white thing’ I’d seen He pushed it toward me. “Let’s just say, you can tell a lot about a dude like that just from digging through their trash,” he said.

  I picked up the spit-covered scrap of paper and discovered it was a receipt for the Morningstar Motel; a tourist trap on the southern end of Glessie. A quick scan revealed a credit card number and Shields' name just below that.

  “Tell me, David,” I said as I showed him the receipt. “What would our esteemed governor be doing at a hell-hole like the Morningstar?”

  David took the receipt from me and looked it over. He had just enough time to frown at it when the door to Kramp’s office opened. My mouth fell open at the sight of who just came out of Barnabus’ office.

  Glessie’s Mayor, Sincerity Jones, took a glance at us and looked almost as dumbfounded as we did.

  “CPI Trew,” she said once she found her voice. “What are you doing so far from Glessie?”

  “I could ask you the same question, Your Honor,” David said, deftly tucking the receipt away. “We’re following up leads on the Morag Devlin case.”

  “Ah, of course, so sad,” Mayor Jones said, shaking her head. “Our previous mayor would right now be lamenting how ticket sales for the Mabon Fair dropped on account of that. I personally think it’s far more terrible for Ms. Devlin’s sister.”

  That was Sincerity Jones all over. While she was as wily and practical as any politician out there, she never forgot that her job was serving the people first. Glessie had become a much better place since she had taken over from our previous (and, devious) Mayor, Marty Fog.

  “But seriously, Mayor Jones, what brings you here?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “Oh, just some cross-isle business that I had to handle with Mr. Kramp,” she said with a dismissive shake of her hand. “I would have gone to Governor Shields with it, but I was told he was in a conference. I guess that it was with the two of you?”

  “Guilty as charged,” David said with one of his ever so charming smiles. My friend seemed to come alive somewhat while standing in the company of Sincerity. I felt a pang of unreasonable jealousy creep stealthily into my heart.

  “Well, I imagine you have a lot of business waiting for you back at City Hall, so we’ll not keep you,” I said a little too eagerly.

  Sincerity Jones matched my enthusiasm, by spewing out some rapid-fire goodbyes and left on quick feet.

  David looked at Midnight. Both of them raised their eyebrows at each other. As the door shut behind Glessie’s mayor, Midnight said, sotto voce, “Permission to stalk Her Honor?”

  “Don’t stop until she gets home,” David said

  “Do not even THINK of leaving me out of this, my brother,” Shade added.

  My moggies stalked off after the mayor and David, and I finally turned to Barnabus Kramp’s door. My friend flicked his head back toward the departing mayor.

  “You really think that something’s going on between her and Kramp?” David whispered.

  “What’s your BS detector saying, Chief Para Inspector?”

  “It’s going off like a five-alarm fire,” he replied before opening the door to Kramp’s office.

  Thankfully, Kramp’s receptionist had the good sense not to make any assumptions about what or who I was to CPI Trew. Or maybe someone had taken the time to fill her in. Regardless, she told us to go right in.

  The impression I had gotten from Kramp at the Mabon Fair was even stronger up close and personal. His face looked as if he were snarling. You know those funny, scrunched up lines wolves get around their snouts when they growl? The lines at the side of Barnabus Kramp’s lips imitated this wild expression. His voice was a booming drawl; uberly confident and utterly relaxed-sounding. Kramp’s words belied his IQ. You’d think Barnabus was a hick, but, of course, he was anything but. This offensive man was as shrewd a lawyer as they come. He spoke then.

  “Gideon filled me in on the situation. It’s a darn shame what happened to Morag. She was a really good kid.”

  Something about the way he said that made my hackles rise.

  David either didn’t catch it or was pretending he didn’t. “Governor Shields told us that Morag’s duties are going to be divided between your remaining lawyers?”

  “Yeah, usually it’d go to the next in the bloodline,” Kramp answered. “But seeing as there’s just Infirma left and how she’s no lawyer…” Kramp trailed off.

  “So what can you tell me about all the latest legal motions regarding the Rock Grumlins?” David asked. “I understand that this was Morag’s domain, so can you tell me what she was last working on for the little guys in the mountain?”

  “Afraid it falls under attorney-client privilege,” Kramp said. “In other words, there’s nothing I want to say before those same motions have been processed through the court system.”

  “Do any of your firm’s current legal actions involve Glessie Isle’s, Mayor Jones?”

  Kramp’s eyes twitched to the left at the chief’s question. “No, nothing like that.”

  I tingled at the obvious lie. “Then why was she here?”

  “That’s nothing I want to talk about either.”

  “Is there anything you CAN talk about?” I pressed, feeling my frustration start to spike. “Like, say, your visit to the Devlin estate right after Morag’s death?”

  Kramp dismissed me. “It was just a condolence call…nothing legal about it, so, please don’t waste my time with petty, irrelevant questions.”

  “Then why did you fire questions at Infirma?” David asked.

  “Morag dealt with a handful of, ah, sensitive issues for the Cathedral administration. We needed to be sure that Ms. Devlin hadn’t been careless, or sloppy with her files before her unfortunate accident.”

  “If it’d only been the one visit to Infirma, I might have believed you.” My best friend and true love quipped.

  Kramp smiled all of a sudden, breaking his face into a snarl once more. “You might want to be careful, Chief Para Inspector. You’re edging dangerously close to libel territory.”

  David was unmoved. “If you make any more visits that upset the surviving Ms. Devlin, you’ll find yourself square in the middle of harassment and/or intimidation territory.”

  “Consider me so advised,” Kramp said, standing. “I’m afraid that’s all the time I have for today. My secretary can get you contact information for the firm’s other partners as I’m sure you’ll be asking about them shortly.” The lawyer offered us a curt nod and sat down at his desk to look over some paperwork.

  It took about a minute for the secretary to give us the details of the other partners, which David jotted down in his notepad.

  Once we were outside the office, David said, “Well, this has been a colossal waste of time.”

  “Not necessarily, David,” I said whi
le we made our way to the front door. “The smallest details could still—“

  “Are you talking about that receipt that Shade found? So we now know Shields’ credit card number and that he once visited a nowhere spot on Glessie…so what?” David sulked. “It’s not exactly hard to believe that he might have met a good-time-girl there for a night of slobbering passion.” My friend sneered. It didn’t really seem like him.

  I dug the receipt out and pointed to a detail my friend had evidently missed. “Look at the date. This was a little under a week ago. We could check his schedule and find out if there was any official business going on. You know, either at the Morningstar Motel or in the general area of it.”

  David nodded. “Okay, that’s something.”

  “I’m also wondering why Sincerity was really in Barnabus’ office,” I added. “Since that mouthpiece was being cagey with the answers, hope my kitties can fill in the gaps after tailing our dear Mayor.”

  David rubbed his face and sighed. “One thing I know for a fact is that we’re going to get less out of Kramp’s colleagues than we just did him. He’ll have warned them all by now. At this point, I’m not even sure that little deal you made with that brownie, what’s his name …. Seamus? Yeah, I’m not so certain his work is going to turn anything up.”

  “If Midnight believes that Seamus has a good nose for this stuff, that’s enough for me,” I said. “Just think of Seamus as another informant who has yet to prove his worth.”

  David nodded. “I’ll try, Hat. But we need to find an angle into this case somehow…and soon.”

  I felt my friend’s pain. This was getting frustrating. It felt disrespectful somehow. Her funeral was tomorrow and we weren’t even close to catching the person who had taken Morag’s life so suddenly.

  Chocolate. I needed chocolate.

  CHAPTER 11

  Morag Devlin’s funeral was held the following morning at Cernuous Cemetery; a plot of land owned by Our Lady of Shallot Church on Cathedral Isle. Mourners huddled under respectfully-black umbrellas, as sheets of rain pummeled the graveside spectators. Visibility was minimal; I could barely make out the bedraggled undertakers lowering Morag’s casket into the muddy ground. I looked down at my feet -- there was already a swirling, muddy pool of water collecting there -- at my poor, drenched kitties. Their fur was sodden, and I could see their tiny faces, eyes squinting in a kind Clint Eastwood parody of determination to see this service through to the end. Plump drops of rain fell from their water-laden whiskers. I’ve said it before, but sometimes I just look at my cats, and my heart feels like it will shatter from the weight of the love I feel for them. Fraidy nearly pushed me over the edge. I saw him, in a thoughtful act of tenderness, reach out his paw to wipe away water from Gloom’s eyes. Gloom didn’t move immediately, but just before I pulled my attention back to the ceremony, I saw her tail curl toward her timid brother, and gently wrap around his back. Love. Love. Love. I saw Jet lean his head against Carbon. For braving the great outdoors to attend Morag’s funeral, the Infiniti was thoughtful enough to put their agoraphobic brother in the middle of them all, where he’d feel comforted and safe. I swallowed the lump in my throat.