by Nic Saint
“Though Jasper hating those young hounds was pretty ironic,” said George. “Seeing as that’s how he and Johnny met in the first place.”
“Because of the hounds?” I asked, confused.
“Well, he was one of them, wasn’t he?”
This surprised me. A dog turning into a human was a feat I’d never seen performed. But then there are many things in this world that are beyond my comprehension. Live and learn. “He was a young hound himself once?”
“He sure was. One of the first. He was Johnny’s first favorite, the one he asked to stay the night, and the night after that, and then the next night. And finally he never left, did he? Only Johnny had an insatiable appetite.”
“For… hounds?” I asked.
“Sure. Jasper never had a chance of scratching that itch all by himself. Johnny needed more, and he needed different, and he needed it every single night. It drove Jasper up the wall. They fought about it all the time.”
“About the happy juice and those… hounds,” I said, just to be sure.
“Us cats rooted for Jasper, of course.”
“Of course,” I said, though how a cat could root for a dog was beyond me.
“But he never had a chance. He wanted Johnny all for himself, you see. Had visions of the two of them growing old together. But Johnny didn’t do old. He wanted to stay young forever, and sharing his bed with those young studs every night made him feel young. That and the happy juice, of course.”
“Young… studs,” I said uncertainly. How we’d gone from dogs to horses I didn’t know, but I was determined not to show my confusion.
“And of course Johnny was a star. You can’t tie down a star.”
Or a stud, apparently, though it’s been known to happen.
“Johnny was larger than life, and nobody was going to have him all to themselves, not even me,” he said with a sad look in his eyes as he silently surveyed the long row of bowls.
I got his drift, of course. Poor cat. He’d come all the way from England to America, only to have to share his human and his home with at least a dozen strays, a couple of hounds and a few studs, too. An entire menagerie, in fact.
“What’s going to happen now?” I asked, gesturing at the bowls.
“Life goes on, partner. Someone will take care of us. Probably Jasper.”
That figured. The dog-turned-human would take care of his cat friends. And probably kick out the hounds and studs. Almost like a Disney movie.
“You think Jasper will inherit?”
“I hope so,” said George, now trying to lick his butt but finally giving up. His large belly was in the way, and he was not as limber as he used to be.
“Well, at least you’ll always have Jasper,” I said.
“Yeah, Jasper is a sweetheart,” said George. “We’re in good hands.”
At this, he gave up on the struggle to lick his butt, plunked down on the floor and promptly dozed off. It happens, especially to cats of a certain age.
Dooley and I exchanged a glance, and before I could help it, I was staring wistfully at George’s jumbo-sized bowl. What I would give for a helping of that delicious pâté. Just the smell was enough to make my mouth water.
“Take a nibble, Max,” Dooley said. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Didn’t you hear the cat? They’re in good hands with this Jasper.”
“I am kinda peckish,” I admitted. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and after all this tripping around and interviewing cats, I could do with a bit of food.
“Well, then?” he asked. “What are you waiting for? Dig in!”
I’m not proud of what happened next. I caved. I checked left and right, like a regular bandit, and finally dug in. I was smart about it, though. Instead of cleaning out a single bowl, like Dooley had done, I simply sampled some food from all the bowls, twelve in a row, so no one would even notice. And when I’d finally reached the last one, I’d eaten my fill and was in cat heaven.
“Oh, God. This stuff is simply divine,” I gushed.
“Isn’t it?” asked Dooley with a grin.
“Best food I’ve ever tasted. Pity Odelia is not an aging pop star.”
“If she was, we’d have to share with a dozen other cats,” said Dooley.
He had a point. Now already we were having trouble with Brutus, the new cat in town. I couldn’t imagine having to share my food and home with a dozen more like him. Or a bunch of dogs and horses, for that matter.
No, perhaps things were the way they should be. But next time when Odelia went grocery shopping, I think I’ll still ask her to buy a bit of pâté.
Chapter 5
We rode back to Hampton Cove in silence, Dooley and I fully content after our culinary feast. We’d told the whole story about the cats and the dogs and the horses and the happy juice to Odelia, and it was obvious we’d given her plenty of food for thought, for she was also conspicuously silent.
On our way into town, she dropped us off at the police station. Even though her uncle doesn’t mind her lending a hand with the investigation, he draws the line at allowing her to sit in on interviews with suspects. But since nobody notices a couple of cats skulking about, we were her eyes and ears.
The moment we arrived, we quickly made our way to the back of the police station, where we knew Chief Alec’s office was, and hopped up onto the windowsill to await further developments. The chief had just arrived back when we got there, and Chase Kingsley was in his office to discuss the case.
“Don’t you think the Chief suspects we’re spying on him?” asked Dooley.
“I’m sure he does. But as long as Odelia is careful how she words her articles, he’s fine with it. It’s Chase we have to watch out for, though. He doesn’t know about Odelia’s special gift, and should never find out.”
“He won’t find out from me,” said Dooley. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t find out from Harriet.” He gave me a knowing look.
Harriet might spill the beans to Brutus, who might try and get word out to Chase. Luckily for us he didn’t share our gift of being able to talk to his human. And for Odelia’s sake, it was important he never would.
Just when we arrived, Chase and the Chief packed up their files and filed out of the office, probably to continue their business in some other part of the station house. No matter. Every room had a window, and windows had sills, so… We quickly trudged over to interrogation room number one, for I had a hunch they were going to interview their first suspect. And… bingo. As we made ourselves comfortable, the Chief and Chase took a seat in front of an olive-skinned man with slicked-back black hair and dark eyes. He looked a little disheveled, and suddenly I recognized him as the man who’d been slumped over the wheel of his car. This was none other than Jasper Pruce.
“It’s the boyfriend,” Dooley whispered excitedly, having come to the same conclusion.
“Looks like he’s been arrested,” I whispered back, gesturing at his handcuffs.
“Oh, no!” cried Dooley. “That means George has no one to take care of him!”
“I’m sure Johnny had plenty of servants,” I assured him. “Someone will keep that pâté coming.”
Inside the room, JPG’s boyfriend didn’t look too happy. Upon closer inspection I could see that his eyes were bloodshot, his face haggard and his general appearance bedraggled. He looked like a guy who’d slept in his clothes after a vicious fight, and had just discovered his boyfriend dead.
“There’s only one thing I want to know from you,” Chase said, opening proceedings. “And that’s why you did it.”
“Did what?” asked Jasper wearily.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Chase growled. “We found your fingerprints on the vial containing the venom.”
This made Jasper sit up and take notice, and us, too. Venom?
“What venom?” Jasper asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play games, Jasper,” said the Chief. “You know as well as we do you poisoned one of Johnny’s GHB vials.
We don’t know what venom you used, exactly, but that’s only a matter of time. Just tell us why you did it.”
“Oh, God,” said Jasper, burying his face in his hands. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes,” said Chase. “And since we only found two fingerprints on the vial: yours and Johnny’s, it’s obvious you planted the venom. Why did you do it, Jasper? Huh? Was it the money? Or were you simply so fed up with the endless nightly parade of young studs that you couldn’t stand it anymore?”
Good thing that Odelia had patiently explained that Jasper was, in fact, human, and that the hounds and studs George had mentioned were also humans. I had to admit it was all very confusing, and I had to strain my brain to keep up. I focused on the conversation inside, and the effort must have shown on my face, for suddenly a voice sounded from the other window.
“What’s wrong, Max? Chase’s questions too tough for you to figure out?”
Both Dooley and I looked over, alarmed, and when we saw that Brutus sat perched on the next window, together with Harriet, we almost fell from our own windowsill in shock and surprise.
“Brutus!” I cried.
“Harriet!” Dooley exclaimed.
“What are you doing here?” we both asked in unison.
The buff black cat shrugged. “Same thing you dumbbells are doing. Conducting an investigation into the murder of the warbler.” He grinned. “And this time I’m going to beat you. I’m going to catch the killer and tell Chase.”
“You keep forgetting you can’t talk to your human,” I reminded him.
His smirk disappeared. “Don’t you worry about that. I’ll find a way.”
“You can’t do this,” said Dooley. “You can’t take over this investigation.”
“Watch me. I’m a cop cat, remember? You’re just a bunch of amateurs.”
My eyes swiveled to Harriet, who hadn’t spoken. “How could you?”
“Yeah, how could you, Harriet?” Dooley asked, sounding even more upset than I was. He’d always had a thing for the snowy white Persian.
“I think Brutus is right,” she said, lifting her chin. “I just don’t think it’s fair of you to give Odelia this advantage. Someone has to level the playing field, and I think Brutus is just the cat to do it. How else is Chase ever going to succeed in this town?”
“You never had any qualms about helping Odelia before,” I pointed out.
“That was before.” She gazed at Brutus lovingly. “Before Brutus arrived.”
“Look, Chase is the one with the unfair advantage,” I said. “He’s the cop.”
“Yeah, it’s Odelia who needs all the help she can get,” Dooley said.
“Odelia is not a cop,” Brutus said. “So she shouldn’t even be involved.”
Again with his narrow-mindedness, I thought, and returned my attention to the conversation inside. It was almost as if Brutus was simply trying to distract us. “Don’t listen to him, Dooley,” I said. “Just ignore them both.”
“Look,” Chase was saying, “we know you were fed up with the constant stream of escorts, night after night. You wanted Johnny all for yourself, but you couldn’t have him. So you worried that very soon Johnny would pick one of the newer, younger models over you, and kick you to the curb and that would be the end of the line for you. At forty-three you’re too old for the boy toy business, and you don’t have any other marketable skills to sell. So you decided that if you were ever going to cash in it had to be now, before you were pushed out. So you killed Johnny, knowing you’d be set for life.”
Jasper was shaking his head throughout. “I would never hurt Johnny. I loved him!”
“We talked to his lawyer,” said Chief Alec. “He confirmed that Johnny made sure that even after he died you would be taken care of. He left you the house and enough money to live out your life in luxury, enjoying the kind of lifestyle you’ve grown accustomed to.”
“I don’t care about all of that!” Jasper cried wildly. “All I cared about was Johnny!” His face took on a pleading expression. “I’m not a murderer, Chief. I would never do that.”
“So why are your fingerprints on the vial?” asked Chase. “Explain that.”
“I can’t. But I never touched that vial, I swear. I hated those drugs. But Johnny was addicted to them. Night after night he needed his fix.”
“And you got into a huge fight about it last night,” said the Chief.
“And not for the first time, either,” added Chase.
“Of course I fought Johnny on that. I could see what that stuff was doing to him. How it was turning him into a shadow of the man he used to be. His career floundered. He hadn’t written a note of music in years, and couldn’t even carry a tune anymore. He’d completely lost the command of his voice. That angelic voice of his had been reduced to a hoarse whisper.”
Chase exchanged a grim-faced look with the Chief. “You saw the destruction and you knew it was only a matter of time before he overdosed, so you decided to speed things up before he took in another lover.”
“Why would I do that? I loved Johnny! I wanted him alive and well and making music again! The last thing I wanted was for him to overdose or to die from taking that horrible stuff.” Then something seemed to dawn on him. “Wait, are you telling me he didn’t die from an overdose?”
“He was poisoned,” the Chief confirmed. “Some exotic kind of venom administered in the vial containing GHB. Which had your fingerprints on it.”
“So how did you do it?” asked Chase. “Where did you get the venom?”
“I told you, I didn’t do it,” said Jasper, rattling his cuffs helplessly.
“Then who did?” asked the Chief.
Jasper stared up at him. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Dooley and I both pricked up our ears, and so did Brutus and Harriet.
Jasper leaned in. “One of the boys kept coming back. He’d quickly become one of Johnny’s favorites. And obviously had high hopes to replace me in Johnny’s heart. But Johnny didn’t care about him. All he wanted from him was the physical satisfaction he could provide and then send him on his way. The guy obviously didn’t like this. He wanted more. He wanted it all.”
“Who was he?” asked the Chief.
“His name is Chico Fetcher. He was with Johnny last night. After all the other boys had left, he was still with him.” He shook his head. “He’s crazy. He would get high on G but it would have the worst possible effect on him. Made him go nuts. He once jumped from the roof straight into the pool. I’m sure that if anyone killed Johnny it must have been him.” He looked up, tears in his eyes. “I tried to warn Johnny so many times. Even last night. I told him he should stop welcoming these people into our home, but he got mad.”
“And kicked you out.”
“No, never,” said Jasper angrily. “I left, because I couldn’t stand seeing Johnny destroy himself. Or be destroyed. And now it’s too late. He’s dead.”
“This Chico…” said the Chief, checking his notebook.
“He’s the guy who jumped out of the window,” Chase said. “Probably thought he could fly.”
“Did we bring him in for questioning?”
“We did. He’s next door.”
Chase rose and pointed an accusatory finger at Jasper. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Jasper.”
He gave him a pained look. “I know it doesn’t. I’m in hell now.”
Chapter 6
After Odelia had dropped off Max and Dooley, she decided to go and have a little chat with her dad. Her uncle had already messaged her the coroner’s preliminary report: John Paul George had been killed by a vial of GHB that was poisoned. That, in conjunction with a preexisting heart condition, had caused his ticker to throw in the towel. Uncle Alec and Chase thought Jasper Pruce was the obvious suspect, but she decided to follow a different lead.
If a vial of Liquid G had killed Johnny, she was going to find out where that vial had come from, and who had tampered with it. Only one vial had been spiked wit
h venom, and it was the only one that had carried a pink seal with a tiny unicorn. Johnny’s seal. So the killer must have known about this.
There were no puncture marks found on the seal, so the venom hadn’t been injected into the vial. Which meant it had been added before being sealed. And who else could have done that other than Johnny’s dealer?
She parked her Ford pickup in front of the doctor’s office and went inside. As usual, her grandmother was at the reception desk, a few patients patiently waiting until Odelia’s dad, who was the town doctor, was ready.
“I need to speak to Dad,” she told Gran. “It’s urgent.”
Gran, a wizened old lady, seemed annoyed Odelia had interrupted her game of online Scrabble. “What’s this about?”
“There’s been a murder,” she told her. “John Paul George was found murdered in his pool this morning.” She didn’t mention she’d found him there, as she didn’t want to make the old lady worry too much.
“The singer?” asked Gran. “Ooh, I liked him. He was a regular hottie.”
Odelia’s mind flashed back to the spreading man they’d dragged from the pool, and decided to skip this little bit of information too. No need to spoil Gran’s memory of the eighties heartthrob. “Yeah, he was, wasn’t he?”
“And you’re telling me he was murdered? That’s just awful! Who could have done such a horrible thing?”
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“And you think your dad knows who did it, huh?”
“I doubt it, but he might lead me in the right direction.” She didn’t want to put all of her cards on the table, as Gran was an inveterate gossip.
“Is that nice Detective Chase Kingsley on the case again?”
“Yes, he is.”
For some reason Gran had taken a shine to Chase.
“That man is so hot, I can’t believe no one has bagged him yet,” she said, shooting her a meaningful look.
“Why don’t you give it a shot?”
“I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder, honey,” said Gran. “I know that man has got the hots for you. So why haven’t you made a move on him yet?”