Something Fishy

by Lois Schmitt

  “My mother and Paul are leaving for Florida on Monday. For this plan to work, we need the information by this weekend.”

  Jason nodded. “I’ll call again.”

  After we settled in the den, I gave my family a filtered version of what Katie had written in her diary. I did not mention any of Katie’s comments about Jack, but I focused on Katie’s thoughts concerning her relationship with Sam. I was interested in Abby’s take on that situation.

  “There was a period where Katie did question if Sam loved her of if he had deliberately been put into her life by Lucien Moray.” Abby hesitated. “At one point, she considered breaking up.”

  “But she didn’t?”

  “No. When Sam said he planned to leave Moray’s employ, Katie decided he was on the up and up. From that moment on, the relationship seemed to be going smoothly. They were about to plan their wedding.”

  Jason, who returned from the kitchen with his second piece of cheesecake, said, “Do you think Sam was legit? Was he in love with Katie or was it an act?”

  Abby appeared to ponder the questions before answering. “I think in the end, he really loved her. But I don’t know how it started. There appears to be lots of inconsistencies in Sam and Katie’s relationship.”

  *****

  The next morning, I put my investigation into the murders on hold as I headed into Manhattan, to check out the shark history exhibit at the Baumgarten Museum.

  Sharks had been on this planet two hundred million years before dinosaurs, making them one of the oldest creatures on earth. I marveled at the exhibit featuring the fossilized teeth of the Megalodon. The Megalodon had been the largest prehistoric sea creature in the history of the world. Its tooth was the size of a human hand. According to the information packet, this ancient shark may have been more than forty feet in length, making the Great White look like a guppy. Shark history would be a great addition to my story.

  As with most museums, my visit ended at the gift shop. A special section was dedicated to merchandise with a shark theme. What caught my eye was a collection of shark postage. Each stamp sold for between twenty and twenty-five dollars. Collector items. I silently chuckled at the sight of a “shark and jellyfish love” wedding stamp. The wedding stamp made me think of Abby and Jason. I wondered if there would be nuptials in their future. If there was, I was pretty sure there wouldn’t be images of sea creatures anywhere near their wedding invitations.

  I moved on and while I was gazing at some shark themed jewelry, a thought flashed through my mind. I grabbed my phone and checked my favorite search engine.

  “Got it,” I mumbled under my breath as I stashed the phone back in my bag. I flew out of the museum and took the subway downtown.

  Twenty minutes later, I entered a small, dimly lit shop in Greenwich Village. I was glancing at the display case when a man behind the counter approached.

  “May I help you?” he asked as he maneuvered his wheelchair to face me.

  I told him what I was seeking. He pulled out a book, placed it on the counter, and began thumbing through the pages.

  “Aha! Here it is.” He spun the book around so I could see where his finger pointed.

  “Can you get me one of these?”

  “Can I get you one?” he repeated as if he hadn’t heard correctly.” This isn’t a doughnut. Have you any idea how rare this is? And expensive?”

  “I can get the money,” I lied.

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t know where to start the search.”

  “One is on the market.”

  “That may be.” He closed the book. “But I know nothing about it. As they say, it’s above my pay grade. I can’t help you.”

  Chapter Forty-seven

  “What about jealously as a motive? Did Katie have any significant relationships before Sam?” I asked Abby early the next morning. We were sitting in my kitchen drinking coffee and eating cinnamon rolls, the aroma wafting through the air. The two dogs were under the table, hoping for crumbs.

  Abby shook her head. “During college, Katie dated, but nothing was ever serious. She met Sam after graduation.”

  “What about her relationship with Jack Patterson?”

  “Jack?” Abby paused. “They were nothing more than good friends.”

  “You seem unsure,” I said, noticing the way Abby had furrowed her eyebrows. I proceeded to tell my daughter about what Katie had written in her diary concerning her feelings toward Jack.

  Abby smiled slightly. “I always suspected Katie and Jack had a thing for each other.”

  “Why?”

  Abby leaned back and explained. “Jack visited Katie in college one weekend when we were freshman. That was the first time I met him. Katie introduced him as the brother she never had. But sometimes I caught her glancing at him with a look that was more than brotherly.”

  “Didn’t you believe that the relationship was platonic?”

  Abby paused, as she appeared to be gathering her thoughts. “There was a strong bond between them. It may have started off as a friendship, but I think it grew into love. But I honestly don’t think Katie realized how strong her feelings were until Jack died.”

  “Could Sam have suspected anything?”

  “I doubt it. Sam is brilliant, but he’s not the type to notice romantic nuances. And Katie was one hundred percent loyal to Sam while they were together.”

  “Okay. No motive. Let’s move on. What about professional jealously at work. Rivalries? Did Katie face competition for promotions?”

  “No.” Abby shook her head. “Katie was the most laid back person I’d ever met. She didn’t care about money or power at all. She simply wanted to train her sea lions. By nature, she wasn’t ruthless or backbiting.”

  I nodded. “I remember you telling me that when her grandmother brought up the idea of leaving most of her money to charity, Katie encouraged her to do so.”

  “Right. Katie told me her salary at the aquarium was more than enough to cover her needs. Plus her grandmother was willing the house to her along with one million dollars.” Abby grinned. “The point is she was satisfied. She didn’t want more.”

  “Did Katie have any personal enemies?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  There appeared to be no reason other than Alicia Wilcox Chandler’s money for someone to murder Katie.

  “Jack Patterson appears to be the unknown in this equation. I’ll check on him when I get to the office which I should do now,” Changing the subject, I said, “Your father seems happy lately. Last night, he told me the animal lover’s festival was a success.”

  “It was.” Abby beamed. “We’ve several new clients. Apparently, a lot of folks are not happy with the new animal health and wellness center.”

  “Why?” I put down my cup.

  “A few people thought the veterinarians working there pushed for expensive diagnostic tests before ruling out other causes. Some complained about the failure to keep scheduled appointments on time. For most, however, it was about impersonal service. You rarely get to see the same veterinarian, so no one gets to know your dog or cat.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad your father’s business is picking up.” I paused. “Do you know what the festival cost?”

  Abby smiled. “That’s more good news. With all the sponsors it cost less than two hundred dollars.”

  “I was surprised by the types of sponsors,” I said.

  “Types? What do you mean?”

  “I understand the pet food company and the store that sells dog beds, but there was a bank, an auto repair shop, and even a shoe store. Those businesses have nothing to do with animals.”

  “But people with companion animals deal with those vendors. They have bank accounts, mortgages, and loans like everyone else. They buy cars and clothing. They’re just another segment of the marketplace.
>
  Another segment of the marketplace. That thought stayed with me as I grabbed a light sweater and threw it over my shoulders. Abby and I left the house, and went our separate ways. While stopped at a traffic light, an idea popped into my mind.

  I slammed my hand on the steering wheel. “That’s it.”

  *****

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Got what?” Clara looked up from the papers on her desk.

  “The solution to our problem.”

  Clara scratched her head, messing up her short, gray hair. “Problem? Which one?”

  “Advertising revenue. Is Olivia in? When does the new advertising manager start? Did she get an extension from corporate? Did she—”

  “Slow down.” Clara held up her hands. “You’re acting like a caffeinated squirrel. Yes, Olivia is in. The new manager started today. Olivia only got a one month extension from corporate headquarters, but that’s better than nothing. Now, what is your idea?”

  “I’ll tell you later. I promise.” I bee-lined to Olivia’s office and knocked on the door.

  “This must be urgent,” Olivia said, as I stepped into her inner sanctum.

  I caught the sarcasm. Staff didn’t drop in on Olivia without an appointment. “I heard you hired a new advertising manager?” I said.

  Olivia nodded. “Evan Hale. He started here today. You’ll meet him at next week’s staff meeting. What did you want to see me about?”

  “What about approaching non-animal related businesses for ads” I told her about the sponsorships at Matt’s festival, then added, “More than half the readership of Animal Advocate comes from Long Island. I’ll bet lots of our local business leaders would love to attract that segment of the market. Why can’t the new advertising manager go after them?”

  Olivia frowned. I sucked in my breath. I was a writer not an ad salesperson. Would Olivia tell me this was none of my business?

  “You may have a point,” she said. “When Animal Advocate first was published, we did have a few ads from local banks, car dealers, department stores and so on. Gradually we moved toward animal related businesses in a national market, but most of our magazine sales are on Long Island.”

  Olivia picked up her phone. “Let’s give it a try. I’ll call Evan now and make sure he incorporates community businesses into his strategy. Is that all?”

  This was my cue to leave. “Yes,” I said as I headed out the door.

  I scooted off to my cubicle, booted up my computer, and searched for Jack Patterson. The stable posted a website that listed both Jillian and Jack as owners. Jillian had not yet taken down Jack’s biography.

  According to the information, Jack had been involved with horses since he was a child, and he had worked at the stable his entire life, except for a four-year period when he attended college in Pennsylvania, followed by a three year stint as a biology teacher in a small prep school in Philadelphia. He had returned to Clam Cove about two years ago, and although he worked fulltime at the aquarium, he still taught riding classes, assisted with the care of the horses, and helped with the general maintenance of the stable.

  “Nothing here I didn’t know,” I grumbled under my breath as I sat back in my chair and stretched. Still, something bothered me. I stared at the screen. Suddenly I saw it—a connection between one of the murder suspects and Jack.

  I continued my research going from screen to screen until the intercom trilled. I picked up and heard Clara’s voice.

  “Detective Wolfe is here. He wants to see—”

  “He just arrived in my cubicle,” I said as I looked up and saw his frowning beet-red face looming over my desk.

  “We need to talk.” He narrowed his eyes. “While Sam Wong was in custody, he and I had an interesting conversation.”

  “What was so interesting?”

  “He told me that on the day I came across him in Katie Chandler’s house, which was less than a week after her death, you were hiding in one of the rooms upstairs.”

  “I wasn’t hiding. I lost a bracelet the day of the aquarium fund raiser, and I went back to the house to search,” I lied. I didn’t think it was a good idea to tell him that I was looking for clues to Katie’s murder.

  “Really? The fund raiser was in the bedroom?” He smirked.

  “Before the cocktail party had started, Katie showed me some of her great, great grandfather’s possessions, which she kept in a room upstairs. I thought I lost the bracelet there.”

  “Did you touch anything?”

  “I’m sure I did, but since the police had finished with the investigation of the premises, I didn’t think that was a problem.”

  “But the property now belongs to the Clam Cove Aquarium. I didn’t know that then, but now I do. You were trespassing.” He pointed a fat finger at me.

  I didn’t like where this was headed. I needed to change the conversation’s focus.

  “What have the police found out about Helen Eubanks?” I asked, referring to Mama Grizzly by her real name.

  “Her alibi for Katie Chandler’s murder checks out. She was attending a wedding for her niece upstate.”

  “Did you check if she was there for the entire time?”

  Detective Wolfe’s face blew up like a puffer fish. “Of course, I checked it out. Don’t tell me how to do my job.”

  He turned to leave but paused. “By the way, did you find it?”

  “Find what?”

  “Your bracelet. The one you were searching for in Katie’s house.”

  “Oh, yes,” I added quickly. “I found it at my home.” I smiled.

  He smiled too. I was surprised until he opened his mouth to speak. “I’m headed to the aquarium now,” he said. “I will be telling Commander West that you were trespassing in Katie Chandler’s house. Since that property now belongs to the aquarium, Commander West may want to press charges. I intend to encourage him to do so.”

  His grin became wider as he added, “If so, I’ll be back. With handcuffs.”

  Chapter Forty-eight

  During the drive to the Patterson Horse Farm, I watched the light drain from the sky as dusk approached. Upon arrival, I located Jillian in the stable filling buckets with grain.

  “Can I talk with you?” I asked. “It’s important.”

  She nodded. “As long as you can do it while I work. I gotta feed the horses.”

  “I need information about the school where Jack worked. I know this is a longshot but do you know anyone there who might talk to me?”

  “I do. Her name is Sara Goldstein. She’s administrative assistant to the headmaster. She was one of Jack’s closest friends at the school, and they still kept in touch.”

  “Do you have her phone number?”

  Jillian filled the bucket in the last stall before answering. “It’s on Jack’s phone. Give me a moment and I’ll get it.”

  *****

  Sara picked up the phone on the first ring.

  “I’m so distraught about Jack’s death,” she said after I introduced myself and told her why I was calling. “I hadn’t spoken to him in about six months, then a few days before he died, he called.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “His call was odd. Jack asked if I had a phone number or address for Rupert Cunningham.”

  “Who?”

  “Rupert Cunningham is the estranged brother of Marshall Cunningham, the man who bequeathed his five million dollar estate to our school.”

  “Why did Jack want this information?”

  “All he said was that Rupert may have been right.” Sara paused. “When Marshall died, Rupert went ballistic upon discovering the estate was going to the Throckbrush Academy and not to him. Rupert had planned to contest the will, but his attorney told him he would lose. Then Rupert began defaming the school. At one point, he accused staff members of stealing from
the estate, but that was never proven.”

  “Wait a second. Couldn’t forensic accounting prove or disprove that?”

  “No. We’re not talking about financial embezzlement. We’re talking about out and out stealing. Stocks and bonds accounted for only half of Rupert’s estate. The other half consisted of his home, worth nearly two million, and his prized coin collection. That was valued at half a million, but Rupert claimed it was worth more. He said a 1943 copper wheat penny appraised at close to nearly one hundred thousand dollars was missing.”

  “Did Rupert accuse any staff member in particular?”

  “No. He only said that it was taken by someone from the school’s administration.”

  “How did he know the coin was missing?”

  “The headmaster held a press conference when the coins were sold. Rupert contacted the person who purchased the collection. He pretended to want to buy it back and discovered the penny was missing.”

  “But if Rupert was estranged from Marshall, how did he know it hadn’t been sold years ago?

  “He claimed it was his brother’s prized possession and that Marshall would never have sold it. Of course, the problem was that the police couldn’t take Rupert’s word. They investigated but couldn’t prove the item wasn’t sold prior to Marshall’s death.

  “Were you able to provide Jack with information on Rupert?”

  “I gave him what I have on file in the office, but I don’t know if he made contact.”

  “Can you give me his address and phone number? I guess I’ll call. I’d love to talk to him in person, but I don’t have time to drive to Pennsylvania.”

  “You don’t need to. He doesn’t live down there. Marshall’s home was outside of Philadelphia, but Rupert lives on Long Island.”

  *****.

  I pulled up in front of Rupert Cunningham’s home. A colonial in a middle class neighborhood, I had a feeling it was nothing like the two million dollar mansion belonging to his late brother Marshall. This house was in need of a paint job and the landscaping was overgrown.

  “May I help you?” asked a stout, middle age woman in a nurse’s uniform who answered the door.