The Snake Mistake Mystery

by Sylvia McNicoll

  We’re the first guests at the animal shelter. I have to hand it to Ms. Lacey and her crew. They have really sparkled up the smelly beige room. Two foil cat balloons are tied to the U-shaped counter, and the floor gleams. The usual smell of animal and medicine is mixed with forest pine scent today. The cages along the walls have orange and black ribbons on them, as though the animals are Halloween presents. In a large glassed room to the right, Ms. Lacey directs someone with hand signals. Serge. We step into that room.

  “Put this on. You are dealing with food!” She hands him a hairnet. “These are the cookies and squares I want on the plates. You still have to bring out the juice boxes. Instructions for the coffee are on the machine. Chop, chop!” She makes one hand into a blade that slices across her other hand quickly. Her diamond ring twinkles from the blade hand.

  Serge obeys and his shaggy brown hair gets all squished down by the light-blue netting. His strange eyes and the flattened hair make him look like the housekeeper in a horror movie.

  “Oh, hi there.” Ms. Lacey’s voice comes out way higher and friendlier as she turns to Dad. “Can I interest you in a lovely Maine coon? Totally litter trained. Loves kids.”

  “Sorry, my wife is allergic. But I wanted to give you these for your dogs.” He holds out a bag of liver bites.

  “Mmm.” She sniffs at them.

  “Also I want to hand out my flyers for our dog-walking and cat-sitting service. Maybe if people are nervous about owning a pet, knowing about us will help them decide.”

  “Yeah! Can I see one?” She looks it over and nods. “I’ll put one up on our bulletin board.” Her head snaps around to Serge. “Fill the coffee machine in the kitchen first. Hurry it up. We’ve got guests!”

  He picks up the tall metal cylinder in two hands and peers around it to see. I open the door to the main office for him. He moves quickly, too quickly, just as the next person steps through the door. Mrs. Klein. She looks around, confused. She’s dressed in orange and black, a strange colour combination with her red hair, but the good thing is she’s also wearing dangly Halloween cat earrings. Shows her heart is in it.

  Ms. Lacey brightens. “Yoo-hoo, over here!”

  Mrs. Klein doesn’t see the coffee machine coming at her. She swings around and smacks into Serge.

  “Ow! Ow!”

  There’s a loud clang as the machine topples to the floor. Mrs. Klein rubs her face.

  “Sorry.”

  The big mistake, number nine, winning over all our other ones today, belongs to Serge for moving so quickly he can’t see where he’s going. But at least his mistake doesn’t cause any bleeding.

  “Oh it’s you again. I saw you on your skateboard with the paint.”

  DAY THREE, MISTAKE TEN

  Serge doesn’t answer. Instead he scrambles to pick up the coffee maker and lid. Still, deep down, I know. I take out my cell phone, key in the number of Constable Wilson, and text: Please come to animal shelter.

  Ms. Lacey opens the door. “Are you okay? Do you need ice?”

  “I’m fine,” Ms. Klein answers.

  “Can you be more careful!” Ms. Lacey grumps at Serge. He ignores her and continues on into the back with the coffee maker.

  “Please join us for refreshments. In here.” Ms. Lacey waves Mrs. Klein in our direction.

  Mrs. Klein steps into the room, looking around still. “Where are the cats?”

  “Oh. We have to serve the food away from the animals. Health regulations and all that.” Ms. Lacey slits open a plastic tub and pops the lid. “Cookie?” she offers.

  Large with white icing and a cherry on top, they look delicious.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Mrs. Klein takes one. “I love Empire cookies.”

  Ms. Lacey nods to us, and Dad and I grab a couple, too.

  “We were just talking about this service.” Ms. Lacey taps her hand against Dad’s flyer. “Noble Cat Sitting. You might want to take one in case you find yourself a kitty.”

  “May I have a few?” She takes some from Ms. Lacey and glances over one. “I think Rottweiler cleaning clients might need help with their pets. I sure would prefer if the animals were being walked while I clean.”

  Dad smiles. Things are looking up.

  “Renée’s here!” I can see her and her mother walking in, Renée with a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. The surprise is that Attila and Star follow them.

  Serge steps back into the front room, this time carrying what has to be a heavier coffee machine now that it’s full of water.

  “Watch it,” I call to Renée. We learn from our mistakes. She manages to dodge Serge. His mother, our principal, Mrs. Watier, clip-clops in with her tall boots, hand in hand with Mr. Sawyer.

  Renée turns to make her silent-scream face at me. Who could believe they’d become a couple again?

  Mr. Sawyer flicks his fingers through his long blond bangs.

  “You’re just in time for the tour!” Ms. Lacey says as they come to the refreshment room. “Come on in, everyone. Have a cookie first.”

  Attila and Star grab some Empire cookies. Renée lifts her shoulders in a question as she points with her chin to the laptop bag.

  There’s no time to explain anything to her.

  Serge sets the coffee machine down on the table, pushing aside a clamshell of brownies. They slide dangerously close to the edge.

  “Careful!” Ms. Lacey barks at Serge as she grabs the brownie box. She grumbles as she pulls off the lid. “Have to stay on top of the kid all the time.” She winks at Mrs. Watier.

  Serge scowls as he crawls under the table to plug the coffee machine in. He flicks a switch and a light comes on. With his back still toward us, Serge opens another clamshell, this time of Nanaimo bars, and begins to lay them out on a paper plate.

  Renée points at his head and grins.

  I grin back. She seems in a way better mood. She takes a brownie.

  “We have a Himalayan cat, a Maine coon, lots of tabbies, three litters of kittens, all colours. Come, follow me.” Ms. Lacey sets the brownies down on the table and then leads us back to the other room.

  We’re in the reception area when I see Mr. Mason and Mr. Ron heading our way. Mr. Mason’s tall and bald, a shiny bullet head. Mr. Ron is round and short and hides his shaggy hair with a baseball cap. Behind them is Mr. Ron’s mother, also short, with a red ski jacket draped over her red flowered Muumuu.

  “People are really coming! This is so exciting.” Ms. Lacey clasps her hands in front of her. “Okay. Do you all want to join us?” she calls. “Coffee’s not quite ready yet.”

  I see Red and his father heading up the walkway, and so does Ms. Lacey. She waits for a moment. “Welcome, welcome, everyone!” She spreads open her hands as they step in. The diamond in her ring twinkles.

  Red waves to Serge in the other room, but Serge ignores him.

  “Just a quick tour. Then you can all visit with the animals. Have a coffee or a juice and maybe take home a pet.” She leads us around the reception area first. “These are the small animals. As you can see, we have some ferrets and a mouse.”

  “So cute,” Renée says about the white, red-eyed rodent. Its nose twitches our way. A perfect girlfriend for Mickey.

  Behind the cage I see a patch of white paint — the drywall repair. Where is Harry? I wonder, looking toward the door.

  Mrs. Irwin walks up the path just then. Dad pulls open the front door for her. She nods her thanks.

  “As you know, we rescue animals. Down this hall we have a ball python that we just picked up. He’s stubborn. Won’t eat the food I’ve set out for him, so we make sure to keep him away from the small animals.”

  Good thing!

  She leads us through the door and into the room where the dogs and cats are. “And over here, we have our cats. Every spring and summer, owners of un-spayed cats dump their unwant
ed kitten litters on us …”

  A huge raccoon-coloured cat with one eye hisses our way.

  “Don’t mind Bandit. He’s a bit of a scrapper!” she tells us. “Our Maine coon.”

  “He shows such character,” Mrs. Klein says, her face opening like a ball of sunshine.

  Reuven and his dad join us. I wave to him. Ms. Lacey gazes happily at the small crowd around her.

  “These are our kittens.” Behind the bars, an orange puffball tumbles over a velvety black baby with white paws. A calico kitty sits mewing at us. A tiger stripe tests his jumping skills over a pile of snoozers. “If you adopt any of our cats, you have to promise to neuter them, but that’s free with the Cat-astrophe coupon.”

  I want to adopt them all, but of course I can’t ever own a pet of my own — Mom’s allergies.

  The door opens behind us and Mr. Rupert marches in, joining our group. Mrs. Klein doesn’t notice; she’s still visiting with Bandit, scratching at his ear through the bars. I can’t help notice that he straightens up tall when he sees her.

  “Over here is Snowball, who loves kids.” She points to Bandit’s cage mate. “Tripod in this cage is happy and healthy except for one missing front leg. Gets along perfectly fine without it. Tiger loves dogs; we actually let him visit them so he can play.” She leads us to the dog hall, where all but two of the cages are empty. From those, a couple of German shepherds bark so loudly that she has to stop talking for a few moments. “Great watch dogs!” she shouts and leads us back.

  In the front area Ping and Pong wag happily beside a sweaty-looking Mrs. Bennett. She’s walked the whole way over?

  “Feel free to visit with the animals. Have some refreshments …”

  Ping yips, encouraging me. “Wait!” I say. “I need to tell everyone about Noble Dog Walking …”

  Ms. Lacey nods and hands me some flyers. She thinks I’m going to talk about walking and looking after their pets. She is wrong. Mistake number ten.

  Too Many Mistakes to Count

  “Yesterday, while walking with those dogs” — I point to Ping and Pong — “I made an important discovery.” As I unbutton my pocket, Harry, the drywall company owner, wanders in and I stop for a moment, unnerved. Behind him, a woman looks at me with sad, brown eyes. She forces a half-smile as she lifts her long black hair over her collar.

  That brave smile encourages me. I raise the red cell phone high. “This device belongs to you.” I hand it over to Mr. Mason. “Renée?” I take the laptop bag and remove the broken laptop to give to him as well. To the audience, I say, “Mr. Mason made a mistake. He drove off in his truck with his phone and laptop on the roof.”

  “Not true! It was in my office. Ronnie, here” — he thumbs toward Mr. Ron — “put it there. Someone …” He eyes Dad. “Took it.”

  “No, actually, I found your laptop in the bush,” Attila calls. “I didn’t know it was yours. But I wanted to save it for my next project. The shattered screen can represent so many things.”

  Mr. Ron’s face flushes tomato soup red. “Um, sorry. I remember now. When I was vacuuming the truck, I stowed them on top, just for a minute. I was going to take them in the office, like you told me. But then you came out. You were in a hurry …”

  Mr. Mason’s jaws clench. He shakes his head.

  “Clearly, Mr. Mason and Mr. Ron both made mistakes,” I say. “But this isn’t just about their mistakes. It’s about a lot of mistaken conclusions people are making about Noble Dog Walking. Other things have gone missing, too. Your seven hundred dollars.” I point to Mrs. Bennett. “From a cookie jar in the cupboard.”

  Perfect timing. In that moment, constables Jurgensen and Wilson step in.

  “Just because Noble Dog Walking has your keys doesn’t mean we’re responsible for your missing electronics and cash. Unfortunately, the police can’t dust it for prints, because I know I touched the cookie jar.”

  “Nobody stole your money.” Harry, the drywall guys, jumps in now. “Remember how you promised you would pay me Saturday? You weren’t home when I called. I needed that money, so I went to your stash.”

  Mrs. Bennett blushes. “I brought your money today!”

  “I can’t get an apartment without first and last months’ payment,” he answers. “I couldn’t wait.”

  I interrupt. “That takes care of that crime. Then there’s the case of the missing Mr. Universe medal.”

  “I don’t care about that,” Mr. Sawyer says. “I wouldn’t have reported that crime, even. It’s worthless.”

  “But I reported it to the police,” Mrs. Irwin says. “And to my insurance company.”

  “Well, let’s cancel that,” Mr. Sawyer says. “I know who did it and I don’t want to press charges.”

  “But what about your gym?” Harry asks him.

  “Who cares about it?” He swings the hand that’s holding Mrs. Watier’s in the air. “I have everything I need right now. Everybody.” He looks at her and then his eyes move over to Serge.

  “Maybe you don’t care that Serge took your medal,” I say. “But what about the cars he sprayed?”

  Mrs. Watier gasps.

  “You can’t prove anything,” Serge says.

  “I saw you skateboarding with that can of paint,” Mrs. Klein calls.

  “Says you!”

  “Says me, too,” Red says. “I saw him spray-paint a red truck.”

  “Which caused me to rush to have it cleaned, which made me lose my phone and laptop!” Mr. Mason says.

  Serge turns and really gives Red an intense stare. “I let you hang around, you pile of …”

  “You’re not teaching me skateboarding like you promised,” Red says.

  Constable Jurgensen steps between them. “Actually, we know you did it, Serge. Mr. Rupert turned in the paint can and we found your prints, which we had on file because of the dognapping and mischief charges against you already.”

  “Which leaves us with one other mystery. How did a ball python get from Overton Court all the way to Duncaster Park?” I ask.

  “He slithered over?” suggests Serge. “I didn’t have anything to do with any snake.”

  Renée grabs Attila’s arm. “Was it you?”

  “No. I never saw any ball python in the park or anywhere else.”

  “Then what did you source for your graffiti in the pipe at the park?”

  “The app we were testing on my cell.” He points to the woman with the long black hair. “Salma Harik designed it. It inspired me.”

  “It is truly a beautiful snake. You all saw it over there.” Ms. Lacey gestures with her hand and her diamond flashes.

  Suddenly, there’s a scream.

  “You gave away my ring!” Salma Harik cries and pushes Harry, the drywaller, hard.

  “No, no. I never gave it to her. I sold it!”

  She shoves him even harder. “How could you do that so quickly? We just broke up.”

  “Saturday morning, ten fifteen. You said we were definitely through this time. I needed a place to live. None of my clients were paying.”

  I would almost feel sorry for him except for one thing. “You were the one who dumped King in the park.”

  “It had to be him,” Renée agrees with me. “No way could he have slithered there on his own.”

  “I hate that stupid snake!” Harry shouts, which is a mistake. It is like confessing.

  Ms. Lacey gasps. “How could you be so cruel!”

  “It was warm out. He survived.”

  “No thanks to you,” Salma says.

  Constable Jurgensen corrals Serge. I see handcuffs flash.

  “Do you want to press charges?” Constable Wilson asks Salma.

  She shakes her head.

  “What about you, Miss?” she asks Mrs. Bennett.

  “I think it’s really high-handed to come into my house to c
ollect your money. Without even asking,” she tells Harry.

  It was a mistake, I think. Definitely a bad one.

  “Shall I arrest him?” Constable Wilson asks.

  “No. I was going to pay him. I just got called for another flight and headed out quickly.”

  Not paying on time as promised is another mistake. I’ve lost count of how many errors the adults have all made.

  Constable Jurgensen leads Serge out the door. Constable Wilson follows. Mrs. Watier and Mr. Sawyer leave behind them. Everyone talks among themselves and it’s hard get their attention again. “Excuse me, excuse me.”

  Finally, Renée puts a thumb and pointer finger in her mouth and whistles louder than I’ve ever heard anyone whistle before. They all go quiet.

  “What I want to point out to all of you is that Noble Dog Walking was in no way connected with any of the crimes. If anything, we helped solve them. So if you want to hire some great dog walkers or cat sitters, please take a flyer!”

  I hold them up in the air.

  Mr. Rupert, of all people, takes the first one. “I’m adopting Bandit. I’ve never seen such a tough-looking cat.”

  “He is a character!” Mrs. Klein winks. “A strong cat. We are co-owning him.” She tucks her arm in Mr. Rupert’s. “I’m sure I have the Noble Dog Walking number so I don’t need a flyer.”

  Mr. Mason steps up. “Look, I’m really sorry about accusing your dad. Just that he walked Bailey and suddenly I couldn’t find my phone.”

  Mrs. Ron marches in and whaps him with a flyer. “You should be sorry. You too, Ronnie!”

  “But I didn’t say he stole the laptop and phone! I forgot all about putting them on top of the truck, honest, I did,” Mr. Ron says. He turns to Dad, who is surrounded by other people. “I’m sorry you were blamed,” he calls to him.

  Dad shrugs.

  “Thanks for telling me about Cat-astrophe,” Mr. Mason continues. “I’m adopting Tiger. He and Bailey can keep each other company.”

  “Let’s get a kitty, too, Ma. Can we?” Mr. Ron asks.

  “Yup, yup, yup. Good idea. Living back of the park we get too many mice this time of year.”

  “Stephen, speaking of mice,” Renée says. “I have a surprise for you.”