by Valerie Tate
A policeman at the gate saw him safely through the crowd, past a small, blonde, dimpled darling clutching a stuffed cat and carrying a sign that read:
MALLORY IS A MURDERER!
Alicia had been watching through the curtains and let him quickly through the door amid a chorus of jeers and - you’ll excuse the expression - catcalls.
“Hi,” she said, a little awkwardly, shutting the door quickly behind him. They walked through into the living room. “Isn’t it awful? They’ve been here since seven this morning. Daddy called the police, and they sent some men over to keep them out of the yard and away from the house. They were actually coming up and waving their signs at the windows.”
“Has there been any trouble?”
“No, but it’s not pleasant to feel like a prisoner in your own home. We have to have an escort to the courthouse this morning.”
And they needed it. Three officers cleared the road, while two squad cars accompanied them to court where two more busloads of protestors were waiting, as well as reporters and T.V. crews.
The opposition finished their arguments that morning and it was to be their turn following the lunch break. Chris was to testify first, followed by the family, Mrs. Stuart, and then one or two witnesses who’d been at the party and could testify that they were all visible when Marmalade started his cat-erwauling. It would probably take another day or two. Then summations and it would be over. Except, of course, for that all-important decision. It didn’t give them much time to come up with a plan for proving that Abbot was the guilty party.
They were leaving the courtroom for lunch when a stranger approached and handed a paper to James. Having read it, white-faced, he passed it to Chris and hurried the family to a rear exit where the car was waiting.
It was a notification of a law-suit. P.A.W.W. had filed a class-action suit against them for $1,000,000, charging they had maliciously disposed of Marmalade to benefit from his death. The suit was filed on behalf of pets everywhere, with proceeds going to specified animal shelters and advocacy groups. Wordlessly, Chris passed it on to Dave and followed the others to the car, wondering if life would ever be normal again.
They didn’t say much on the drive home. The others knew, as did Chris, that this could drag on for years, law-suit after law-suit, appeal after appeal. What was there to say?
They’d chosen to have Mrs. Stuart fix lunch at home, not wanting to face the curious looks, malicious smiles, or righteous indignation of the public by eating out.
There were only a handful of picketers left at the house. The rest had joined their fellows at the courthouse.
Mrs. Stuart had lunch waiting. James stopped to look over the mail, but Alice, Alicia and Chris went straight to the kitchen where Mrs. Stuart ladled out homemade soup and warm bread. A meat pie bubbled in its pastry in the oven and a crisp Salade Vinaigrette waited on the sideboard. Mrs. Stuart’s reaction to stress was culinary. Alicia, as usual in time of crisis, ate with gusto.
“My God!” James’ shocked tones rang through the house. “Listen to this.” He ran into the kitchen waving a white sheet of paper. It was covered in letters cut from magazines.
WE HAVE YOUR CAT
HE IS NOT HARMED
BRING $50,000 TO
THE BANDSHELL BY
7:00 A.M. SAT.
IF YOU WANT HIM
BACK. NO POLICE
IF YOU WANT HIM
BACK ALIVE!
“Oh, James!” Alice’s voice was filled with hope.
“Yes, this could be it.” James fairly shook with excitement.
“It could be a fake too.” Chris didn’t want to raise false hopes. “I’ll call Officer Carnegie and Dave. Don’t handle that sheet any more. There might be fingerprints.”
His own hands were shaking as he dialed. He knew it could be, probably was, a hoax, but he couldn’t help hoping either. He also wondered how Abbot fit into all of this. Had they been completely wrong about him? Was the catnapper really just a thief who had seized an opportunity for his own benefit? And then a thought hit him like a blow to the solar plexus: what if he’d been wrong about Wilf? Had he been completely taken in by a sophisticated con man?
His hands shook even more.
The police arrived in less than ten minutes - Officer Carnegie and his Superintendent, Dave Jukes – accompanied by Jarrod Inglis, who’d been called by the police and had a suspicious glint in his eye.
“When did it arrive?” Dave was almost as excited as they were. And why not? He had almost as much at stake.
“In this morning’s mail. I opened it when we came back for lunch.” James handed the tray he’d put the letter on to the Superintendent.
“Saturday. That’s two days from now. Can you raise that much money?” he asked.
Chris looked at Jarrod. “The estate can.”
“Now look, Chris, I can’t ...” Jarrod exploded.
“Can’t nothing,” Dave interrupted just as hotly. “It’s the cat’s money. If you tie it up, it’s as good as killing him.”
They argued it out for half an hour before Jarrod finally agreed, on condition that they all agreed to be fingerprinted for comparison. They said they would and the two attorneys returned to court to ask for a continuance until the ransom could be raised and paid.
The Superintendent called his office and arranged for a tap on the phone and permission to continue the watch on the house, and then he left, taking the letter and its envelope back for forensic testing. They all agreed to follow him in their own cars to be fingerprinted.
Dave returned within the hour, and with him came the P.A.W.W. protesters.
“Chris, we’ll have to do something about them. I’ll file for an injunction limiting access and numbers. I don’t mind telling you I don’t like their involvement. They’re fanatics and they don’t let go. This lawsuit could drag on for years. They’ve already plastered this town with leaflets that border on libel.” Dave munched a sandwich as he talked.
“Surely this ransom demand will make a difference. If Marmalade’s been kidnapped they must realize that we’re not involved.” Alicia spoke hopefully.
Chris hated to point out the obvious. “If the letter is legitimate, it is still possible for any one of us to have engineered the kidnapping, and if it’s a hoax, then we’re right back where we started.”
“Then what difference does this letter make? If we can’t win either way, we might just as well give up now and save ourselves further humiliation.” Angry color flushed her cheeks.
“I’m surprised at you, Alicia,” Alice broke in. “I for one have no intention of giving up. And I thought you were made of tougher stuff than that. Your pioneering forebears would be ashamed of you.”
“I’m sorry,” Alicia smiled sheepishly. “I’m just so angry and frustrated ... Those P.A.W.W. people were the last straw. Every time one of those self-righteous old busy-bodies shakes one of their signs at me, I want to take it and smash them over the head with it. I just want to kick something.”
They all laughed and some of the tension that had been building for weeks started to dissolve.
Alicia and Chris decided to get a breath of fresh air and cool off in the garden. It was the first time they’d been alone together since the night he’d seen her with Hugh Jameson, and Shae’s arrival. Neither one of them said much.
It was chilly, but despite the predictions, the snow hadn’t arrived, and Wilf still paid regular visits to clean up the leaves that collected in the bushes and gardens. The roses had been hilled up and covered with earth and straw, and the rhododendrons and other flowering shrubs were wrapped in burlap. On the shores of Huron, nature needed a helping hand.
Wilf had been paid for the season and pretty much came and went as he pleased. He rarely spoke and usually responded to greetings with a smile and a nod before getting back to work. Chris couldn’t help wondering once again if he had been too quick to cross Wilf Mitchell off their list of suspects.
Alicia wandered aimlessly fro
m garden to garden. “I always think the garden is a lonely place this time of year. The flowers are dead and the birds are gone. The bushes are brown and barren. It seems empty and sad .... Oh, I do hope we have a white Christmas!”
* * *
Dave got the injunction and the P.A.W.W. pickets were limited to a half dozen, 100 feet away from the house. The guard remained, however, and a wire-tap was installed on the phone in case the kidnapper(s) decided to contact them.
James, with the co-operation of the courts and the bank, was able to arrange for the ransom money. Chris was to deliver it to the band shell on Saturday, closely watched by the law whom, he felt sure, were just as suspicious of him as of the writer of the note. In fact, he realized, they might just be thinking he was the writer of the note.
The sun was just rising when he arrived at the park on Saturday morning. It promised to be another clear, cool day. There had been a frost overnight and the grass was crunchy beneath his feet. He didn’t see or hear anyone as he approached the rustic white band shell in the park. He walked slowly up the stairs and placed the case with the money on the floor, turned and walked back to his car. It felt rather anti-climactic to just drive back to the house, but that’s what he did and together they all waited for the call that would tell them, one way or another, what had happened.
Nobody, not even Alicia, felt like eating, so Mrs. Stewart kept the coffee coming then they sat around the library, waiting.
The call came at eight-forty. Chris reached the phone first. It was Dave from the police station.
“They’ve got him. They’re bringing him in immediately. I’ll let you know what they learn as soon as I find out.”
“What about Marmalade? Did he have him with him?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call you back.”
He turned to Alicia. “They’ve got him!”
“Chris!” Alicia flung herself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time, while Alice and James danced crazily around the room. Mrs. Stewart, after uttering a mighty, “Whoopee!”, scuttled off to fix a celebratory breakfast.
“Chris, it’s over. It’s really over. Marmalade will come home. Daddy will get the company back. It’s just so wonderful.”
It is said that champagne goes with everything. It certainly went with the scrambled eggs and bacon that Mrs. Stewart prepared. For the first time in weeks, the cloud of gloom that had hung over them was gone and the air positively fizzed with joy. They made extravagant plans for Christmas celebrations. James and Chris planned for the factory. Alice and Alicia planned a shopping trip to Toronto to buy new clothes. Mrs. Stewart planned the meal she would prepare for a celebration dinner that night.
When the doorbell rang late that afternoon they were still high on a combination of relief, exhilaration and champagne.
“That must be Dave.”
“Let him in, Chris and invite him to stay for dinner. Mrs. Stewart has prepared enough for ten at least,” Alice laughed and went back to the kitchen.
Alicia and Chris flung open the door together.
“Welcome! We bid you enter and ...” The look on Dave’s face killed the laughter and the bantering words. A feeling of dread filled them.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. He was a fraud.”
Chapter 43
“A fraud?”
“We always knew that was a possibility.”
They were sitting around the fireplace in the library, and even though a driftwood fire crackled warmly, it still felt cold - cold and miserable.
“It’s not fair!” Alicia jumped up and began pacing. “It should be over. Now those crazies will start picketing again and we’ll have to go back to court ... and the whispering ... and the looks ... and ... I just want it to be over.”
What could Chris say? He wanted it to be over too. “What happened, Dave?”
“Well, they picked him up when he went for the money. It didn’t take long before he admitted that he didn’t have the cat, and never had. He’d seen the story in the papers and decided to try and cash in on it. I’m sorry,” he added lamely.
“Who is he?”
“His name is Ray Price. He’s a handyman of sorts, does odd jobs around town. They didn’t come right out and say so, but the police hinted that he was known to them. Petty crime. Suspicion but no convictions. Anyway, he lives in the subsidized apartments at the west end of town. The police have searched his place. There is no sign of Marmalade and no evidence that he, or any animal, has ever been there. He’s being charged with attempted extortion.”
“And now?” James asked, wearily.
“We’ve informed the Society and Judge Palmer. Court resumes Monday morning.”
Alicia turned suddenly and walked out the door. Chris excused himself and followed her. He caught up to her in the kitchen where the uneaten ‘celebration’ dinner was still keeping warm.
“You need to call Shae,” she said without turning around.
He was surprised. She hadn’t seemed all that fond of Shae. “I’ll call and tell her the news after dinner.”
“No, call and tell her to come over. We need to have that talk. Now!”
“What talk?”
“How we’re going to prove that Abbot did it.” She turned to him fiercely. “I’m sick of this. It’s time we stopped being victims in all of this and went on the offensive. Call Shae.”
Chapter 44
They were all sitting, once more, around the fire in the library. Chris had called Shae and filled her in on what had happened.
“So what we have to decide is what we do with this.” Chris was holding the fax of the preliminary report. “Any ideas?”
No-one spoke for a moment, and then Alicia said, “I think we need to have a look around the animal shelter and office and we need to do it when no-one else is there so they can’t hide anything.”
“What do you think we’d find?” Shae asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but we need to look for more evidence that Abbot is stealing from the APS.”
“But how does that help us?” her mother asked.
“It shows he has a motive for taking Marmalade and for getting his hands on the estate. He needs money to cover himself in case there should be an audit,” Alicia explained.
“There is going to be an audit,” Chris interjected. “Dave found out, I don’t know how, that it’s scheduled for sometime early in the New Year.”
“You see!” Alicia said triumphantly.
“OK. Let’s say you’re right and there is more evidence of fraud to be found there, how do we get in?” Chris asked.
Alicia looked thoughtful. “Well, we could break in.”
Everyone laughed until they realized she was serious.
“All right, everyone who knows how to break into a building, raise your hand.” Chris said, sarcastically. No hands were raised.
Alicia wasn’t about to give up. “O.K., so we’re not cat burglars. I may have another way.”
“And that is ...?”
“We ask Hugh to help us.” Alicia said.
Four stunned pairs of eyes looked at her.
“We’re going to ask their investigator to help us break into their shelter?”
“Yes. Listen for just a minute. Hugh’s a good guy and he doesn’t like Abbot. If we show him what we’ve learned so far, I think he’d want to find out for himself just what is going on.”
They looked at each other for a minute and James said, “It’s worth a try. It’s not like we have a lot of options.”
“We could just take this to the court and present it as evidence.” Alice offered.
“And before anyone could get out there with a warrant, you can bet that he’d have destroyed any evidence there might be,” Shae said. “I agree with Alicia. I think we definitely need to get a look around, and it would be a good idea to have an impartial witness there in case we find anything.”
In the end they all agreed, and Alicia called Hugh. It didn’t esc
ape Chris’ notice that she had his number on speed dial.
She didn’t give him a reason. She just asked if he could come over the following morning. Reluctantly, he agreed.
He met them just after eleven. He was out of uniform and had left his SUV down the road in case anyone was watching the house. He looked tired.
“Sorry I’m so late. We were on a raid yesterday and I didn’t get home until very late.”
“What kind of raid?” Alicia asked.
“We received a tip about some horses on a farm near Lancaster. Five mares and their foals and two old geldings. They were starving.”
There were outraged exclamations.
“Will they be all right?”
“It’s too soon to tell. The younger ones have the best chance. The old geldings are in really rough shape. Anyway, what did you want to see me about?”
When it came right down to it, it was difficult to know where to start. Alicia and Chris looked at each other and he made an ‘over to you’ sign.
Alicia took a deep breath and started in. “We need your help.”
“To do what?” he asked suspiciously.
“To prove that Bill Abbot is a thief and that he is the one who took Marmalade.”
“What?” He stood up as if to leave.
Alicia put her hand on his arm. “Please, Hugh. Just listen to me.”
Reluctantly, he sat back down.
“To start with, you have to believe us when we say that we didn’t harm Marmalade. If you can accept that, then the next question you have to ask is who else would benefit from his death. And the answer to that is the APS.” He started to get up again but she held onto his arm and went on quickly. “We have proof that Bill Abbot has been stealing money from the APS.” Hugh sat down as if he had been shot. “And we believe that he took Marmalade so that we would be blamed and lose the estate. That way he could use the money from the estate to cover what he had taken before the audit in the New Year.” She had his complete attention. “Shae sent a copy of the APS books to a forensic accountant and we have his preliminary report. We’d like you to look at it, and if you agree that something has to be done to stop Abbot, we have a plan we need your help with.” She let go of his arm and waited.