Heir of the Dog

by Judi McCoy

  Pops held up his hands. “I’m still tryin’ to swallow that bit about Gary bein’ rich.”

  “It shocked me, too. That’s why I have questions.”

  “Ask away, as long as you don’t mind me TCOB while you’re doin’ it.”

  She stood behind the cart while he attended to the small crowd that had gathered. When Rudy yipped, she broke off an end of the plain dog and dropped it for him. Then she took a bite of her own wiener and chewed.

  Pops finished with his customers and wiped his hands on his apron. “All right, ask me what you want to know. I got nothin’ to hide.”

  “Gary and you talked every once in a while, correct? I know you were kind to him and sometimes gave him free hot dogs.”

  “Yeah, we spoke, but it was usually about the weather or what he’d found in his latest Dumpster foray. As for givin’ him food, I hate throwin’ away what I don’t sell for the day.” Pops seemed embarrassed by his largesse.“Gary needed to eat, so it made sense he took my leftovers.”

  “I’m sure he appreciated it. I just wonder, while the two of you talked, did you ever notice anyone following him?”

  The vendor propped me an elbow and leaned against the cart. “Give me a minute to think. It’s been a while.” He furrowed his brow. “I don’t think so.”

  “How about when Gary entrusted you with the envelope? Did he say why he was giving it to you instead of a lawyer?”

  Pops scratched his bald head, while she took a drink of soda. “Now that you mention it, Gary did act a little odd when he passed me that envelope, but I don’t remember seein’ anyone on his tail. I just figured he was bein’ Gary.”

  “Did he say anything about a relative? Maybe a brother?”

  “Nope.”

  “And he never told you he thought he was being followed?”

  “Gary always thought he was bein’ followed. It was just his way.”

  “Did the cops talk to you?”

  He filled another order before responding. “Truth be told, that Gruning guy has been to see me twice, but he asked about you both times, never said much about our dead friend.”

  “Me?” Ellie huffed out a breath. That was just what she didn’t want to hear. She tossed the empty paper sleeve from her hot dog in the trash. “Why me?”

  “Don’t have the faintest idea. But he seemed to think you knew more about Gary than what you were sayin’.”

  “That’s crazy. Gary and I were passing acquaintances.” She gave Rudy a second section of wiener, stuck the remainder in a plastic bag, and dropped it in her tote. “I hope you said so.”

  “Of course, but it didn’t seem to matter. Oh, and he asked me if I knew what was in that envelope.”

  Well, crap. “Did you tell him?”

  “I said I had no idea what it was when Gary gave it to me.” Pops grinned, then wiped his damp forehead with a napkin. “That wasn’t a lie.”

  “I guess I should be the one to give him the information. If he finds out the envelope contained a will, it’ll look as if I’ve been withholding facts about the case, which will only be worse for me.”

  “Might be a good idea,” the vendor agreed. “Get back to me if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

  Ellie and Rudy waited for Gruning in her usual spot, a perpetually drab conference room at police headquarters. She wasn’t looking forward to the coming discussion, but she had no choice. If she didn’t tell the despicable detective about the contents of Gary’s will and he found out on his own, he’d figure a way to use it against her.

  Then there was Gary. Surely the cops were through with his body. As his executor, she was bound by law to follow his wishes, and if not by the law, common decency told her to see to his cremation, as well as to his personal belongings, pathetic though they were.

  “This is gettin’ boring,” Rudy told her as he paced. “Doesn’t Gruning realize we have work to do?”

  “I doubt Detective Gruning gives a thought to what’s going on in our life. His only job is to catch Gary’s killer.”

  “Maybe so, but I’ll bet he isn’t doin’ much to see that happens. Cops don’t care when the vic is a nobody.”

  “That’s certainly no comfort. The police are supposed to enforce justice for all people, not only the wealthy or those with clout.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  The door opened without warning, and Gruning trundled in, his face wreathed in its usual patina of perspiration. “Who were you talking to?” he asked by way of a greeting.

  She straightened. “Myself.”

  The detective grunted, fished a red-and-white hard candy from his jacket pocket, popped it in his mouth, and chewed. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Should I have called first?”

  “Might have been nice. I got a lot of fish to fry.”

  Rudy muffled a laugh. “Yeah, right.”

  Gruning heaved his bulk into a chair. “I don’t have all day, Ms. Engleman. You got something to tell me, spit it out.”

  “I want to tell you what was in the envelope Gary left me.”

  “I already know. His last will and testament.”

  She swallowed a gulp of air. “How did you find out?”

  “We’re the police. It’s our job to find out.” He crunched the candy while he stared at her. “Question is, did you know about your inheritance before he took a bullet in his chest?”

  “How do you know it was an—”

  “TMI, Triple E. TMI.”

  “So you did inherit something more than his junk and that cardboard box, eh? I thought that might be the case.”

  Ellie bit back a sigh. Great. She’d just added fuel to his arrest idea. “I hadn’t the faintest idea he’d left me anything. The will was a shock.” She leaned back in the molded chair and raised a brow. “How do you know it was an inheritance?”

  The detective narrowed his gaze. “Didn’t take a genius to figure it out. People go to the trouble of writing a will, they usually leave something important to those mentioned.” He chewed on his candy. “Care to tell me what it was?”

  She refused to give him another clue. “I’ve already registered the document with the probate clerk, but I have a copy if you’d like to see it.”

  “I had a look at Chambers Street. Thanks, anyway.” He continued to chomp on the candy. “It would go better for you if you told me what you got.”

  When in doubt, follow Viv’s rule and change the subject, she told herself. “There’s something else. I’m now legally responsible for Gary’s remains. Are you through doing whatever it is you do, so I can have control of the body?”

  “Knock yourself out.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. “I’ve already put in a court order, Ms. Engleman. I’ll find out what you inherited eventually.”

  She clasped her hands on her lap to keep from reaching across the table and strangling him. “What about Gary’s shelter. Can I go through it and remove what I want?”

  “We took the crime scene tape down yesterday. But with the indigents roaming the park, I doubt there’s anything left.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me it was clear?”

  “Tit for tat, Ms. Engleman. I would have, if you’d called and given me information on that envelope,” he said with a slimy smile. “Now, is there anything further we need to talk about?”

  “I hear Thompson Veridot has been out of jail for a few months now. I hope you’re looking for him.”

  “You telling me how to run my investigation?”

  She bit her tongue before uttering a “yes.” “I’m merely wondering if you’re covering all your bases where Gary is concerned. Just because he was homeless doesn’t mean his killer should go free.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.” Gruning stood and pushed away from the table. “I think we’re through here.”

  Angry, Ellie nodded. “I can see myself out.”

  “You do that,” said the detective as he left the room.

  Chapter 11

 
“This is the most idiotic, half-assed—” Vivian’s pained sigh was so gusty it almost fluttered the leaves on the trees. “I should have my head examined for letting you talk me into this.”

  Despite the fact that her best friend was probably correct, Ellie held firm. It would have been smarter for them to come to the Ramble earlier, but she and Viv had to work. By the time they’d arrived home, fed their dogs, changed and had dinner, dusk had settled. Besides, putting the task off until Saturday was dumb. It would only give the homeless people wandering the park more time to pilfer Gary’s meager belongings.

  “Stop whining. Central Park is one of the safest areas of the city,” Ellie offered by way of apology. Getting Viv to accompany her had been a major coup. Unfortunately, she now owed her friend a no-strings favor, something she was not looking forward to providing anytime soon.

  “Oh, really? Mind telling me who gave you that ridiculous bit of information?”

  “The newspapers say so all the time, as do the police.” She neglected to add that both agencies were often wrong in their assessment of safe havens in Manhattan. “Now be patient and let Rudy get his bearings.” She glanced at her Yorkiepoo. “Okay, big guy. You ready to lead us to Gary’s home?”

  “Sure, no problem. The nose knows and all that, right, T?”

  “Yer nose, maybe. Mr. T ain’t never been to Gary’s crib.”

  She ignored the Jack Russell’s tart comment and gave her pal the lead, calling over her shoulder to Viv, “Keep up. Rudy won’t be happy if we lose you in the dark.”

  Nose to the ground as he muttered to himself, the dog took one of the many trampled grass trails that led into the Ramble. When the path forked, he didn’t hesitate. “It’s a right and a right, then a left.”

  “You sure he knows where he’s going?” Viv huffed from behind. “Didn’t you tell me you’d only been here a couple of times?”

  “Four or five, but don’t worry. Rudy knows the way. The night we found the body, the little stinker dragged me behind him as if I was a kite without a tail.”

  “Watching him now, I see what you mean.”

  Noting the lack of daylight as they got further into the underbrush, Ellie dug in her heels and pulled her dog to a halt. Not only was this area of the park shaded by overhanging trees, it also held an aura of gloom and doom. The knowledge that someone had gotten shot here didn’t do much for her security quotient, either.

  “Hang on a second,” she whispered to Rudy. Then she called to Viv. “Find those flashlights and pass me one.”

  Vivian crept up beside them and dug into her bag. After Ellie turned on the flashlight, she recognized a pile of vine-covered rocks, or at least she thought she did, and pointed. “I think I have my bearings. We turn right here, and the shelter should be up ahead on the left.”

  “Jeez, can you imagine living here?” Viv peered into the forest. “The air is so thick it’s hard to breathe.”

  “It’s ninety-plus degrees outside, and the humidity’s been building. It’s hard to breathe in this city, period.” Ducking under a swag of ropey vines, Ellie waited for Viv and Mr. T to follow. “Just a little farther.”

  Viv stayed close, talking out loud.“I couldn’t live without air-conditioning. It must be horrible to be poor.”

  “Poor? I don’t think you know the meaning of the word.”

  “I can’t help it if I was born into wealth. Your family didn’t do so bad either, especially Georgette. Thanks to her four divorces, the ex-terminator’s got my mom and dad beat by a couple of million in the disposable income department.”

  Before Ellie could respond, Rudy brought them to a clearing she remembered well. Except the last time she’d been here, it had been overflowing with a platoon of police, news vans, and inquisitive citizens.

  “This is it.”

  “Now what?” said Viv.

  Ellie passed her Rudy’s lead, pulled a plastic bag and a pair of rubber gloves from her tote, and gave Viv the handbag as well. “You hang on to the dogs while I scope the place out, see if there’s anything the police missed. Just sit tight.”

  She walked toward the tree Gary had used as the backdrop for his shelter. Underneath, the cardboard making up the roof sagged with the water weight from the previous storm, and the surrounding ground was covered in junk, almost as if a Dumpster had exploded. Her throat swelled when she saw Rudy’s shattered dish, the one Gary had been so proud of. Picking up a shard of the pottery, she sniffed back a tear.

  Viv, oblivious to her friend’s sorrow, stood with her hands on her hips. “Ick, ick, and triple ick. Please tell me I don’t have to crawl in there.”

  “Stand guard while I look inside. Good thing I wore jeans.” Inching closer, Ellie dropped to her hands and knees and forged into the remains of the shelter.

  The flashlight cast an eerie glow on what was left of Gary’s belongings. Though the cardboard box had been neat and tidy when it was his home, it was now a wreck. His burner was gone, as were his cups, plates, folding trays, and plastic utensils. The shoeboxes holding his treasures were shredded, their contents scattered. A pile of ashes ringed with rocks sat in the center of the earth-packed floor, proof that the shelter had housed others in need since Gary’s death.

  Inhaling a breath, she picked through the rubble. “Eww,” she muttered when she lifted a soggy square of carpet.

  “What! What is it?” Viv asked from somewhere outside.

  “Bugs! Millions of ’em.”

  “What did you expect? Butterflies and fairies?”

  “Ha-ha,” Ellie said with a groan. She replaced the moldy section of rug and vowed to think before she spoke again, in hopes it would help keep Viv’s lips zipped.

  Scooting to a far wall, she sorted through a mound of filthy clothing, so unwearable even the homeless didn’t want it. She then moved to the opposite corner and dug under a pile of old newspapers, but that, too, revealed nothing of value.

  Heaving a sigh, she backed out and dusted the gloves on her thighs, then collected Rudy’s lead. “There’s nothing inside that will give us any clues. I guess it’s all we can do.”

  Nose to the dirt, Rudy tugged on his leash, jerking Ellie forward a foot. “Hey! What are you doing?”

  “That’s the question I keep asking myself,” Viv answered. “Why the hell am I here?”

  “Got a scent . . . I got a scent. Let me and T go, Triple E. There’s more here than meets the human eye.”

  “Hey, what the heck are you doing?” Viv asked when Ellie dropped Rudy’s leash.

  “I have a hunch, that’s all. Release Twink. Let’s see if the boys can do better than me.”

  Twink circled left while Rudy went right, their noses glued to the ground. Ellie heard them mumbling, but couldn’t make out the words. Then both dogs stopped and stared at a pile of rocks set about twenty feet behind the main tree.

  Walking to the spot, she dropped to her knees and dragged the largest rock from its shallow grave. “Is this where you want me to look? Is there something here I should see?”

  “Yeah . . . yeah . . . yeah,” Rudy panted, planting himself in front of Ellie and scratching at the muck. “Come on, T, get the lead out. We need help here.”

  “Not a chance. I done all the tough stuff I plan to do for the night,” Mr. T said with a growl.

  “Excuse me for asking,” Viv chimed. “But what the hell is going on? And who are you talking to?”

  Ellie sat back on her heels, dodging the mud Rudy shot her way. Seconds later, he backed out with a dirt-encrusted manila envelope in his muzzle and dropped it in front of her. Then he shook himself off, sending bits of crud in all directions.

  “Hey, enough with the mud bath,” Viv shouted. “What the heck did he find?”

  “Something I’m guessing belonged to Gary, which means it now belongs to us.” Ellie stood, shaking the dirt from the envelope as she walked to Viv. Then she grabbed her tote and stuffed the find in her bag.

  “Are we through?” asked Viv, her voice a bit des
perate. “It’s getting dark . . . and I heard creepy noises while you were over there with the dogs.”

  Something rustled in the bushes and both women froze.

  “There it goes again. What do you think it is?” Viv asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Rudy growled, his gaze fixed on the trees to the right, and Ellie shuddered. “Beats me. Maybe squirrels or a raccoon?”

  “More like rats. I bet this place is swarming with ’em.”

  “You got that right,” Rudy agreed with another growl.

  Ellie clutched the tote to her chest. “It’s getting late. We should probably go.”

  “That’s the smartest idea you’ve had all night,” Viv pronounced as Mr. T pulled her down the path.

  Sitting in Ellie’s kitchen, she and Viv fortified themselves with single-serving pints of Häagen-Dazs while the dogs snored at their feet. In between bites of Caramel Cone, they stared at the photos on the table, as well as the key that was hidden in the envelope Rudy had found, comparing it to the safety-deposit box key she’d inherited.

  “What do you think it’s for?” asked Viv, scraping up a spoonful of ice cream.

  “I don’t have a clue, but I doubt it opens another bank box. It’s too tiny.”

  “Maybe it belongs to a different bank, one that uses a smaller type of locking mechanism on their boxes.”

  “It’s a possibility, but I doubt it. Besides, if it was something Gary wanted me to have, he would have mentioned it in the will.”

  “Gary was a nut job. He might have forgotten this key even existed, or forgot to put it in with the will.”

  “Maybe so, but without knowing what it opens, everything is conjecture. Worst case, it might simply be one of his special ‘treasures,’ something he found and liked, and it doesn’t work anywhere.”

  “Then how do you explain those?” said Viv, nodding at the faded photos.

  “Okay, so maybe it means something, but I don’t know what.”

  “The key is stamped with a number, so it could open a bus station locker or one of those boxes in a mail center. Are you sure this envelope was the only thing in that hole?”