by Anna Kern
“I had an errand to run for George, and on the way I stopped at a beach side diner called Betty’s. The first thing I noticed when I walked in was the clientele––they were all senior citizens.”
Alyx raised an eyebrow at that.
“I know that’s not an unusual sight around here. What was unusual was that all the servers looked to be in their seventies, and the cashier had to be well over eighty.
“So what happened?”
“Nothing happened. The interaction among the servers and with the cook was touching. In fact, I thought they were all related, so when I left I had to ask, and it turns out that Betty, the cashier, was the original owner of the diner back in the sixties when they were located on Main Street. She sold the place ten years later, and the new owners moved the diner to its current location. What I find amazing is that all the employees that worked for Betty at the Main Street location stayed on to work for the new owners. No one left, Alyx. They are all still there.”
“That’s a nice story. It says a lot about Betty and the new owners, doesn’t it?”
“We’re nice employers. Do you think Nelda and Bernice will be that loyal?”
“Work ethics aren’t what they used to be. Let’s just say, I won’t take it personally if they decide to leave.”
Maggie eventually found what she was looking for and left. Alyx went looking for Bernice and waited for her to finish up with a customer, then asked, “Do you feel comfortable being left alone for an hour or so?”
“No problem.”
“I have to run a few errands. If anyone’s looking for me, have them call me on my cell, and if they don’t have the number, tell them to call me here, later.”
“Cats are a mysterious kind of folk. There is more passing in their minds that we are aware of.”
––Walter Scott
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: An Amateur Sleuth with a Cat for a Partner
Alyx turned over the small, silver pill case to Detective Smarts––not mentioning that I was the one who’d found it.
“Do you think the killer might have left it behind?” she asked.
“Not necessarily; it could have been dropped by anyone at any time.”
“So, it doesn’t help anything?”
“I didn’t say that, Ms. Hille. Many other things have to come together, such as a suspect, a possible motive, and an opportunity. Of course, we’ll check it for prints.”
“It seems to me, Detective Smarts, you’re taking a lot of time to put those things together, unlike your action in my son’s case.”
Detective Smarts expelled a breath of air from his puffed cheeks. He leaned forward in his chair and looked her directly in the eyes. “Ms. Hille, I’m truly sorry about what happened to your son. At the time, he was the only suspect with motive and opportunity. If it were to happen again, I’d have to say I’d do the same thing. As far as my reluctance to talk to you about the case––I see you as an amateur sleuth with a cat for a partner. No excuses, I just can’t take either one of you seriously.”
Alyx stared at him for a full five seconds before she shook her head and laughed. “I guess I can’t blame you when you put it that way.”
She stood, slipped her bag over her shoulder, and at the same time, extended her hand. “If I can help in any way, as a concerned citizen, let me know. As far as my cat is concerned, I can’t make any promises; he has a mind of his own.”
The handshake said they had a temporary truce. As for me, I didn’t care what Detective Smarts thought of my detective skills. I had a job to do, and I intended to do it.
Unlike Smarts, there were several suspects with motive and opportunity on my list. All I needed was a little help to ferret them out into the open. Although I’d figured out that Simon wasn’t as altruistic as he wanted me to believe, it was necessary that I spend more time with him and his friends see what I could learn. I fervently hoped that I was strong enough to resist the temptation to join forces with him.
Later that night, I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts on the way to the shed, that I wasn’t aware I was being followed, until I saw Pooky and Misty situate themselves outside the shed so they could hear but not be seen. Misty had questioned me during the day and must have figured out that I was meeting with Simon and his friends. She probably thought I’d lied to her and I was still planning to join him.
Awed and confused, the girls were silent throughout the whole process. I had no way to warn them that they were being shadowed––my worst fear was realized when they filed into the dilapidated shack. Six huge Siamese cats sat in statuesque poses, their blue, laser-like eyes aimed at their captives, prohibiting any movement;
Wide-eyed with fear, my housemates held their heads high. I made a quick assessment of the situation and decided on a course of action. Before Simon could say anything, I pounced in front of the felines and in a loud roar that whipped their ears back, demanded to know why they’d followed me.
Misty stepped forward and hissed that she wanted to know if I was going to join Simon, and Pooky insisted that it wasn’t totally Misty’s idea. Then they looked at each other disheartened, unaware of my motives, when I said that I didn’t believe them. Simon grinned when I told him I wanted to take them home and teach them a lesson or two about privacy. I promised Simon it wouldn’t happen again and no one stood in our way as I led them both out. Once clear of the shed, the girls were off in a blur. I was proud of them. They were obviously scared, but not intimidated.
I was in no hurry. The felines were well ahead of me––which was fine––because I needed the time to clear my mind. Maybe I should have told them everything. I should have known that Misty wouldn’t let it go, but never did I believe that anything could have motivated Pooky to leave the house. The most important lesson I’d learned that night is that true friendship––human and otherwise––is a gift to cherish.
The trip home was uneventful; no animal or human challenged our right to the night. I arrived home a few minutes behind the other two and found them waiting on the lanai. There was no arguing when I flatly stated that I would discuss everything with them in the morning. I slid the latch on the pet door closed, with no human any wiser to our recent outdoor excursion.
The following morning while Alyx was busy doing other things, I reassured Misty that I hadn’t lied to her; I told her I had to make Simon think that I was still considering leaving so that I could learn more from him about Althea. She said she trusted me, but she had no idea what Simon was teaching me, and as far as Althea’s murder case went, she wanted to help and to let her know what I needed her to do. Then she bounced away, her string trailing behind her, the same-old Misty, yet so different.
At the shop, Alyx and Maggie were busy rearranging a few items on the floor, and Maggie was trying to keep things positive as they pushed and shoved furniture around. When Alyx complained about the work, Maggie said moving furniture was not her favorite thing to do either, yet undoubtedly it was worth the effort if the item sold. Nevertheless, they were delighted to see Mary Zenn walk in, a big smile on her face.
“You look like you won the lottery. What’s up?”
“It’s even better than winning the lottery,” answered Mary, plopping down on the couch they’d just pushed to a new location, the grin she walked in with not leaving her face.
“Maggie, let’s finish this later.”
“No problem; I’ll take good news over moving furniture any day.”
“Okay, are you ready for this?” asked Mary.
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
“Do you remember the paintings you sold to the man from Palm Beach?”
“Yes, Maggie said he asked for your card. Does he want to buy more of your work?” asked Alyx.
“Oh, it’s much better than that. John Rictus is the owner of the Rictus Art Gallery and he wants my artwork to be part of his next exhibition!”
“Mary, that’s wonderful!”
Alyx hugged her. Maggie congratulated her and w
aited to hear more.
“The show is in three months, and he wants me to do as many new paintings as I can until then. Apparently, they get more artsy tourists than we get here in Beachside,” she said glancing at the unsold paintings on the wall.
“I’ll send invitations, and I hope you both can come.”
Mary cleared her throat, “Do you think you guys can help me with my hair and clothes on the night of my show?”
“Sure, we can. Maggie is the fashion plate around here. I’ll be glad to go with you to my stylist Enzo; he’s great at makeovers. He’ll give you what you want done in his special way,” she laughed. “I’ll make an appointment for the week before, so you have time to adjust to your cut.”
The look on Mary’s face said she’d assumed too much. “You don’t want your hair cut, do you?”
Mary hung her head a little, “I thought just taming it a little would help. I’m an artist. Artists are supposed to look weird.” As she said that, her head came up, “Thanks, Alyx, I think I’ll go as myself,” and then she added, “Maybe you and Maggie can help me look like me, only better.”
Maggie and Alyx exchanged looks, and Maggie nodded. “Speaking for Maggie and me, it’s a deal,” said Alyx.
“A cat can maintain a position of curled up somnolence on your knee until you are nearly upright. To the last minute she hopes your conscience will get the better of you and you will settle down again.”
––Pam Brown
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: David Hunter’s Competition
Jonathan Steele walked in, coincidently dressed like Alyx. His khakis and tee shirt matched Alyx’s outfit, except her khakis were cropped, and her shirt was tucked in. Misty ran towards him to sniff his shoes, his pants and then his hands as the man reached down to stroke her head.
“Welcome to my fine establishment,” Alyx said, smiling and swinging her arm wide.
“Very nice,” he nodded appreciatively.
“Feel free to browse, if you want.”
“Today is not a good day to look around as I only have an hour for lunch. I think I mentioned that I don’t have any help at the store, so I can’t leave whenever I want. I do close for an hour everyday at this time; I’ll definitely look around next time though. I know it’s too late for lunch, but how about a cup of coffee next door. I hear their homemade muffins are the best in town,” said Jonathan. “I’m interested in hearing what you have to say about the next Association meeting.”
Alyx didn’t hesitate to accept the invitation for coffee. She reached for a copy of the meeting agenda from the stack on the counter and handed it to him. He folded it and put it in his pocket.
“I’ll be ready to go in a minute, I have to tell Nelda I’m leaving and put Murfy on a leash.”
They walked out smiling with me bouncing along beside them. Alyx was explaining about my protectiveness, and I don’t think she saw David Hunter get out of his car across the street––but he saw her. He stood there for a moment, and then got back in the car and drove off.
“I’m glad you could get away. Do you always have two people in the store?” asked Steele.
“As often as we can manage it without making it a hardship for anyone. Our design business keeps Maggie and me out of the store more than we like. We have two wonderful, trustworthy employees and we’re possibly looking to hire a third to help with the decorating part. Maggie and I both miss the hunt for antiques and collectibles and we want to do more of that.”
“That’s the same with me, except I search for items that will someday become an antique or collectible. I still intend to travel; I’m limiting my trips to faraway places in this country for the time being though.”
“Given the state of the world these days, I’d say that’s a wise decision on your part.”
They talked about the business climate on Ocean Street, but most of the conversation was about his travels. Alyx asked him about the Taj Mahal.
“Stop me if I start to sound like a tour guide.”
Alyx laughed; she was doing a lot of that.
”As you know, the Taj Mahal is a mausoleum.”
She said she didn’t, and he continued. “The Mughal emperor Shah Jahan had it built in memory of his wife, who died giving birth to their fourteenth child. It took twenty thousand men and seventeen years to build it. The main building material is white marble inlaid with red sandstone, jasper, jade, crystal, turquoise, sapphires, and diamonds. In all, twenty-eight kinds of rare, semi-precious and precious stones were used.”
“Do they allow people to tour the inside?”
“Yes, they do. There’s a central chamber, a crypt immediately below and four octagonal corner rooms originally intended to house the graves of other royal family members. In the center are the cenotaphs of Shah Jahan and his wife, Mumtaz Mahal. According to custom, she rests immediately below the dome and he is to the left and a little higher. Above the tombs is a Cairene lamp, which is not supposed to burn out. Both tombs are exquisitely inlaid with semiprecious stones, and surrounded by a marble screen of trellis work.”
He leaned back in his seat, “I hope I haven’t told you more than what you wanted to hear,” he said apologetically as one who loves his subject matter, not sure when to stop.
“No, not at all. I’ve never known anyone who’s actually seen it. Is it true that the emperor planned on building a black marble Taj for himself?”
He shrugged, “It’s often mentioned in historical guidebooks, but many scholars believe it’s a myth. What do you think?”
“I think that he built the mausoleum in memory of his beloved wife and is happy to be buried with her.”
“I agree.”
Maggie was standing behind the cash register grinning at Alyx like the proverbial Cheshire cat when we returned. “Nelda said you were having coffee with a very good-looking man who wasn’t David,” she said.
Two creases formed between her eyes at the mention of David’s name, and then disappeared as she told Maggie about Jonathan Steele.
“He’s so interesting… and the more he talked, the more I liked him. I started noticing little things about him, like the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. I noticed he used his hands a lot––strong, with well-manicured fingernails. I had to fight the urge to touch the dimple on his chin to the point that I had to fold my hands on my lap for fear of actually doing it.”
She suddenly stopped talking as if she’d said more than she wanted to say.
“That’s enough about Jonathan Steel. What’s up with you?”
“I just spoke with George, and we’ll be leaving for the Keys this Friday––back in a few days. I asked Nelda if she could help you with Althea’s estate sale Saturday, and she said she would. Now, are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yes, don’t worry. Go have fun. And don’t forget; I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”
Maggie hugged her. “I’m hopeful that it will be resolved by the time we get back.”
“‘What’s your name?’ Coraline asked the cat. ‘Look, I’m Coraline. Okay? ‘Cats don’t have names,’ it said. ‘No?’ said Coraline. ‘No,’ said the cat. ‘Now you people have names. That’s because you don’t know who you are. We know who we are, so we don’t need names.’”
––Neil Gaiman, Coraline
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Murfy’s List of Suspects
Althea’s next-door neighbor, Bill, was talking to a woman with tomato red hair, wearing a pink sleeveless housedress, the hot pink nail polish a perfect match to her lips. We drove up in front of Althea’s condominium.
“Hi, Bill,” said Alyx. “How are you doing?”
“Fine. Fine. At my age, what else can I say that won’t bore you to death?”
Alyx introduced herself to the red haired woman.
“Wanda, here, was telling me about Althea’s niece,” Bill said.
“What about Althea’s niece?” asked Alyx.
He looked at Wanda for an answer. “She and a young man were here e
arlier today,” she answered in a gravelly smoker’s voice.
“She must have decided she wanted something before the estate sale,” suggested Alyx.
“If she did, she didn’t take it with her. It looked to me like they were angry about something,” said Wanda. “They came out, slamming the front door shut, and then slamming their car doors.”
“Did they say anything?”
“I heard her son say something about it not being his fault.”
“How did you know it was Carole’s son?”
“I happened to be outside when they came over one day,” explained Wanda, “and when they left, Althea told me who they were, and she didn’t seem too happy about the visit, either. The young man––Carole’s son––was here with another man the night before her body was found.”
“What did the other man look like?” asked Alyx.
“I was walking my dog, and not paying attention. All I noticed about him was that he was rather portly.”
“Did the police talk to you?”
“Yes, and I told them all this.”
Alyx chatted with Bill and Wanda for a few more minutes before we went inside.
“Okay, fur-baby,” she said to me, “let’s see what else you can find today.”
She stood in the living room thinking aloud. “What were they looking for––do you think it was that pill case–– or something else?”
I raced up the stairs and she followed slowly talking to herself.
“Okay, let’s think about this. As things stand, Carole will inherit quite a sum of money, and due to her family’s financial problems, she had motive to kill Althea. For the same reason, Carole’s son could have killed her so his mother could get access to the money; that pill case could belong to either one of them, and they came back looking for it.”
I agreed with her assessment. It was also possible that Althea’s long-lost son had gotten in touch with Carole––she would be, after all, his cousin and only family. Maybe Carole was worried that Althea’s son would contest the will, and so she came back looking for something having to do with that.