Case of the Ostentatious Otters

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  “Coin,” Jillian insisted.

  “Medallion,” I grinned.

  “And we have an impasse,” Jillian giggled. “Very well. We need to see if we can figure out what this is. Do you think there’s anyone in town we can go to?”

  “Besides our pal, Chet?”

  Jillian nodded, “He’d be a great place to start. Come on. Let’s go pay him a visit.”

  ****

  “Welcome back!” Chet exclaimed, as he held the door open for us. “I was hoping to hear from you two again, but I didn’t think it’d be this soon. You said on the phone that you had found something? Something in the water? Well, curiosity kills. May I see it?”

  Jillian produced the young otter’s rock and held it out.

  “Where did you find this again?” Chet asked, as he took the rock and studied it.

  “An otter was using it to break clams open,” Jillian answered. “Right off of Cannery Row, almost adjacent to the aquarium.”

  “I know the area you mean,” Chet said, as he ushered us inside his home. He brought us deeper inside his mansion and eventually stopped outside a stainless steel door. Chet saw my quizzical look and smiled. “It looks out of place, I know, but considering what’s on the other side of this door, I felt it appropriate.”

  “And what, exactly, is on the other side?” I cautiously asked.

  In answer to my question, Chet opened the door, revealing a well-equipped, mini lab, complete with microscopes, computers, work tables, and shelves of books. Racks of small tools were hanging on pegs in neat rows above the closest work table. Chet rolled an adjustable stool over to the table, sat, and selected a few tools from his rack.

  “I thought you were just a coin collector,” I said, amazed at the equipment in the room.

  “One doesn’t live in Monterey without having a love of the water,” Chet explained. He was now wearing a headband magnifier, and was examining the rock. “I’ve been a certified diver practically all my life. You never know what you may find, and if you do find something, it’s always helpful to be able to figure out what it is.”

  “Have you ever found any coins out there?” Jillian asked.

  Chet nodded, “Several, actually. They really weren’t worth too much. But, that pales in comparison to the excitement of finding something that could be anything. I can see some lettering here.”

  “We saw it, too,” I confirmed. “Any idea what it says?”

  “Let’s see if we can get this cleaned up a bit.”

  A noise reminiscent of a dentist’s drill suddenly started up. It reminded me way too much of my last dental visit, so I slapped both hands over my ears. Watson whined, but Sherlock gave the strange noise the full-on head tilt.

  “My, my, my. What have we here?”

  Jillian and I crowded close to Chet to see what he was doing. In this case, a large piece of the ‘rock’ had flaked away, revealing more tantalizing bits of metal underneath. Now, besides some lettering, we could see some shapes start to materialize.

  “This looks like some type of building here,” Chet explained, as he rinsed the coin in distilled water. “And here? Hmm, it looks like another building.”

  “Is it a medallion?” I hopefully asked.

  “Definitely a coin,” Chet answered.

  “Damn,” I swore.

  “Told you,” Jillian teased. “Is there anything on the reverse side?”

  Chet flipped the coin over and touched the tip of his micro drill to the side. The god-awful, high-pitched whine filled my ears again, and just like that, another large flake fell off the coin. Once more, Chet dunked the coin in the tub of distilled water and then dried it off. His eyes narrowed as he studied the newly revealed picture.

  “What is that stuff that’s flaking off like that?” I asked.

  “Probably lime deposits,” Chet said, as he picked up his drill and removed a few other pieces of gray deposits. “Hmm, do you see this here? It looks like arches, does it not?”

  I shrugged, “I’ll give you that. Arches on a coin. What does that mean?”

  Chet’s eyes widened and he stifled a curse.

  “No. It cannot be.”

  “What?” I demanded. “You recognize this, don’t you? Well, what is it?”

  “Just a moment,” Chet pleaded. “I need to know for sure. If you’ll allow me?” He held up his tiny drill and waggled it.

  Jillian and I shared a look with each other. She nodded.

  “Of course.”

  Chet, exhibiting a precision to his work that wasn’t there a few moments ago, carefully removed more of the mineral deposits. Our new friend spent the next fifteen minutes in complete silence as he meticulously worked on extricating the coin from the rock. Every few minutes or so, he’d hold the coin with a pair of tongs and then would dip it in a second bin, followed almost immediately by the first. I could only assume he was submerging it in some type of acid, or maybe cleaning solution, and then quickly rinsing it off.

  “I’ll be damned,” Chet finally said. He pulled his magnifier off his head and stretched his back. Turning to the two of us, he held the coin up with his tongs. “You asked me if I recognized it, right?”

  Jillian nodded.

  “The answer to that is yes, I do. Why? Well, because this is my coin. My friends, this is the coin I asked you to recover for me!”

  SIX

  “You’re sure?” I asked, trying hard to keep the skeptical tone out of my voice. “This is your coin? I mean, come on. What are the odds of that?”

  We were now sitting in Chet’s study, which was, by my reckoning, three hallways and two rooms over from his lab. Our coin-collecting friend sat back in his arm chair and studied the former ‘rock’ in his (gloved) hand. He reached for his glass of wine and took a healthy drink. Jillian and I automatically reached for the beer bottles our host had obligingly offered to us and followed suit. For me, it might have been more of a guzzle.

  “This is a 1721 Spanish Silver two reales Piece of 8 coin. The bit of lettering you saw earlier, the ‘X’ and the ‘ANI’ you told me about, was just a few of the letters encircling the coin. You can see it now reads, ‘1721 HISPANIARUM REX.’ Those buildings we saw? They were castles, located in the upper left quadrant and the lower right. And in the upper right and lower left? You can see that they are lions.”

  “Is there any writing on the other side?” I wanted to know.

  Chet nodded, and turned the coin over. He tapped the letters that curved around the outside of the coin.

  “Philipus V.”

  “And that’s a person,” I guessed.

  “King Philip the Fifth,” Chet confirmed. “He ruled from 1716-1740. This particular coin was placed in general circulation. Do you see the crowned ‘M?’”

  “Where?” Jillian asked, as she leaned close.

  “Here,” Chet said, tapping the area near the ‘V’ of King Philip’s name. “That’s Madrid’s mint mark.”

  “You clearly know your coins,” Jillian said. “I, er, am glad we could return it to you.”

  “I am absolutely astounded to have this sitting in my hand, after all this time,” Chet was saying, as he stared lovingly at the silver coin sitting in his palm. “Especially since I only officially asked for your help yesterday. I take my hat off to you, my friends, and your wonderful dogs. I will telephone the captain immediately, and express my thanks.”

  Bidding goodbye to our new friend, the four of us headed back to town, via another ridesharing app. Telephoning ahead, we learned that Harry and Julie were now awake, and arranged to meet them at a local restaurant for a bite to eat. Since this place didn’t have an outside terrace, the dogs would have to stay confined in the room. However, since both corgis had been swimming in the ocean earlier, then given baths, and then were given two car rides, I didn’t think we were going to have a problem. A quick look back as we exited the room confirmed that Sherlock was now on his back, with all four paws in the air, and Watson was lying next to him. They were out cold. />
  “Do you really mean it?” Harry asked, as soon as we had sat down next to them and ordered some drinks. “We’re really getting the rooms for free?”

  “We haven’t heard anything yet from the police department,” Jillian cautioned. “I honestly wouldn’t plan on not paying your bill until the clerk at the front desk says the bill has been paid in full. It’s not worth it. I mean, we are on vacation, after all.”

  “Hey, a bet’s a bet,” Harry argued.

  “Tell me about that coin,” Julie implored. “I can’t believe you found it so quickly! That’s awesome, you two!”

  “We didn’t find it,” I corrected. “Sherlock did. In fact, he’s been pulling us to the water ever since we gave the keys to the hotel’s valet. That dog is something else. I just don’t buy it, though.”

  “What?” Harry wanted to know. “What don’t you buy?”

  At that time, the waitress appeared and took our order. It was 10:30 am, and still technically breakfast, but I was tempted to order a burger. Jillian saw me looking at the lunch side of the menu and shook her head. She knew I loved my burgers, but she also knew that, thanks to my last doctor’s appointment, my cholesterol was on the higher side. His recommendation? ‘Cut out red meat. Eat more green vegetables.’ The quack. Getting old sucks.

  We placed our orders, with me ordering a heart-healthy egg white omelet, with added avocado slices. I waited for the waitress to wander off before I answered Harry’s question.

  “Sherlock is good,” I slowly began. “Both dogs are. But come on, don’t you think it’s a little convenient that we were asked to locate a stolen coin, only to discover it in the hands of… er, in the paws of a local otter? And this, happening on the day after we were asked to look for it?”

  “They’re your dogs,” Harry reminded me. “You’ve told us many times how amazing they are in finding stuff. Think about it, man. This is just another occasion where the dogs find something that no one else could have. I mean, think back to that ugly glass tiger.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Or the missing Egyptian pendent,” Jillian added.

  “Or the thief who was stealing all the Christmas presents?” Julie reminded me.

  “This list goes on and on, man,” Harry pointed out.

  “What’s your point?” I asked. “I know all about the cases those two dogs have solved. I mean, I was there, remember?”

  “The point we’re trying to make,” my girlfriend soothingly explained, “is that this is just another example of how gifted the dogs are. I cannot explain how they can do what they do. You can’t. Neither can Harry, and he’s the professional.”

  “I am,” Harry jovially confirmed.

  Julie smacked him on the arm, but playfully so, I noted.

  “You’re saying I need to let this one go and just reward them with a box of Scooby Snacks? Is that it?”

  “They just saved us each over $700,” Harry reminded me. “Don’t be a cheapskate. Get ‘em each a case.”

  “Hardy ha ha.”

  We had our breakfasts, and I had my tasteless omelet. The one thing I did enjoy, strangely enough, was the addition of the avocado slices. Growing up, I avoided any food that had a hint of avocado, seeing how they were green, only now, I think I had inadvertently been cheating myself. That part of my breakfast was good.

  Just as I was finishing up my glass of juice, my cell rang. A quick check of the display had me grinning. It was the local police department.

  “Hello?”

  “Zack? It’s Mary.”

  “Hi, Mary. What’s up?”

  “We just received the autopsy report on Jack Carlton.”

  “I thought for certain you were going to say something about that coin,” I confessed. I let out a chuckle. “All right, hit me with your best. Did the autopsy find anything useful?”

  “First, let me congratulate you guys. Chet Mayberry called the captain personally, and extolled your dogs’ skills. He couldn’t be more thrilled about the return of his coin. That is one happy numismatist.”

  “That’s one happy what?”

  “Numismatist. It’s the technical name for a coin collector, or coin enthusiast.”

  “You learn something new each day. Numismatist. Got it. I’m following along now. He called the captain? Do you have any idea what the captain said?”

  “He’s already contacted your hotel. Your bill has been paid, and he sends his thanks.”

  “I have a friend here who will be thrilled to death to hear that.”

  Overhearing, Harry let out a whoop of joy as he correctly guessed what I was talking about.

  “With regards to Jack Carlton’s death, the Cause of Death has been confirmed: drowning. Sea water was found in his lungs.”

  “That isn’t too surprising,” I decided. “It sounds like an open and shut case. I mean, he was a diver, and we found him face down in the water.”

  “But… tetrodotoxin was also found in his system.”

  “Tetris-what?” I asked, as my tongue tripped over the unfamiliar word.

  “Tetrodotoxin,” Mary carefully repeated. “It’s an incredibly dangerous neurotoxin.”

  “A dangerous neurotoxin,” I repeated, for Jillian’s benefit. “That sounds really bad.”

  “Tetrodotoxin poisoning messes with the signals your nerves send to your muscles. In essence, it causes paralysis. Too much can be fatal.”

  “So, he died from this Tetris poison?”

  “Tetrodotoxin,” Mary repeated, for the third time. “And no. Cause of Death has already been established: drowning. The seawater in his lungs confirmed that.”

  “Then, how did the...” I paused as I tried to repeat the name of the poison in my head. Nope. Couldn’t do it. “...poison get into his system? Was it something he ate? Or ingested?”

  “No, not with this stuff. It’s incredibly fast acting. The deceased would have had to come into contact with it while he was out in the water.”

  “Oh, I get it. He got stung by a jellyfish, or something like that?”

  “I wondered the same thing, too,” Mary admitted. “The answer is, no. While the sting of a jellyfish can be painful, and there are those that can be fatal, the most well-known source of tetrodotoxin would be a certain species of puffer fish. There are also, I’ve recently learned, certain tropical frogs, newts, crabs, starfish, and even octopuses that have it. I don’t understand the basics of it yet, but I’ve put in a few calls to some friends of mine. I hope to know more later.”

  “Well, you just described all kinds of sea life,” I said. “Jack Carlton was a world-famous diver, and he worked in an aquarium. He must have come into contact with it at some point in time.”

  “Mr. Anderson, you’re not hearing me. Once the tetrodotoxin has been introduced into your system, the symptoms can appear anywhere from just a few minutes to several hours. It all depends on how much neurotoxin was introduced into the bloodstream, and where it came from.”

  “Could he have built up an immunity to this stuff? You know, like how Westley built up his resistance to iocane?”

  “The Princess Bride. Ah, I loved that movie. You have great tastes in movies, Mr. Anderson. But no, this stuff is way too dangerous to fiddle around with. Any knowledgeable diver would steer clear of any animal that carried it.”

  “Then he had to have encountered something out in the water,” I deduced.

  “That’s what I think, too,” Mary admitted. “The problem with that logic is, everything we’re aware of that can carry tetrodotoxin lives in tropical waters. There’s nothing native to this area.”

  “For the sake of argument, let’s say Jack Carlton managed to find something out there that carried this tetradotoxin crap,” I began, “how much...”

  “Tetro...” Mary interrupted. “You were close on that one.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Okay, tetrodotoxin. How much of that stuff was in the victim’s system?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You have the autopsy r
eports,” I reminded the Monterey cop. “Doesn’t it say how much of the neurotoxin was present?”

  “That’s a good point. Let me see. Here it is. 3.7 milligrams.”

  “That’s... that’s a really low amount, isn’t it?”

  “Incredibly so. But, listen to this. The lab technician made some notes. He said that it only takes 1-2 milligrams to kill an adult.”

  “How does that help us?”

  “It means Jack Carlton was murdered.”

  I terminated the call after I thanked Mary for the information. My mind was spinning. Jack Carlton was murdered? And some powerful neurotoxin was found in his blood? Was that why a skilled diver was found face down in the water? That toxin paralyzed him and he drowned? What a horrible way to die!

  “What’s going on?” Jillian asked, as I sat back in my chair and polished off my soda.

  Yeah, I know. Omelets and sodas. You’d think it’d be a terrible mix, but it works for me. Especially if I have to choke down an egg white omelet.

  “That was Mary, from the police department. The autopsy came in for the dead diver we found.”

  “And?” Harry prompted.

  “Cause of death is still drowning,” I relayed, which caused my three companions to nod their heads knowingly, “only there’s a twist involved. Some neurotoxin was also found in his blood.”

  “The Tetris toxin?” Jillian teased.

  “Hey, it’s a long word,” I argued. “Tetrodotoxin. There, I finally got it right, only Mary’s not here. Oh, well.”

  “Tetrodotoxin,” Harry solemnly repeated. “I’ve heard of that stuff, man. You don’t screw around with it.”

  “How have you heard of it?” I wanted to know. “Did you take a class on toxins?”

  “Kinda,” Harry said, nodding. “Quite a few of our classes did, actually. They focused on what we can do to keep the patient alive, and what not to give the patient to make them dead.”

  I had been taking a drink from my soda when I snorted with amusement. Yep, there was the Harry I knew. His acerbic wit never grew old. And that, my friends, is called ‘sarcasm.’