by Nic Saint
“It sure does,” said Kingman with a grin. Like most cats in Hampton Cove he had a thing for Harriet, who was pretty much the prettiest cat for miles around. Except for Princess, maybe, which was probably why Harriet was so curious to find out more about her. Keep an eye on the competition.
“Any idea who did it?” asked Dooley.
“I could ask you the same thing. You were out there, weren’t you? One of Johnny’s cats strolled by here before. Said you were all over their place.”
“We only know what we saw,” said Dooley. “JPG in the pool. Poisoned.”
I gave him a warning look. Even though the story about Johnny’s death by poisoning would spread through town fast, there was no need to help it along. At least not until Odelia had written her article and got the scoop.
“Poisoned, huh?” asked Kingman, his furry face puckering up in surprise. “Now there’s something I didn’t know. Are you sure about this?”
Dooley stared at me and I shook my head. “Nah,” he said. “We, um…”
“It’s just a rumor that’s going around,” said Harriet, coming to his aid.
“And who do they think did it?” asked Kingman now.
“They’re interviewing all the guys Johnny entertained last night,” I said, “but so far it looks like the boyfriend is the most likely suspect. Jasper Pruce.” I wasn’t giving away any big secrets, as Jasper had been arrested.
“Who would have thought?” asked Kingman, whistling through his teeth.
Yes, cats can whistle, but we rarely do it, on account of the fact that it looks silly, and if there’s anything we hate as much as we hate dogs, it’s looking silly in front of other cats. We like to play it cool. Where else do you think the expression ‘cool cat’ comes from?
“So the boyfriend did it, huh?” asked Kingman now.
“Personally I think he’s innocent,” said Harriet. “He sounded extremely sincere when he said he loved Johnny and would never hurt him. And he doesn’t look like a killer at all. More like a sad little kitten.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” said Dooley. “And so can people’s words. They say one thing to your face and do something else behind your back.”
Harriet lifted her chin. “Well, I for one believed him. Jasper Pruce is simply incapable of murdering the person he loved. Love is like that, you know. It makes one care about the other, in spite of their obvious flaws.”
“Ah! So you admit there are flaws,” said Dooley.
“No one is without flaws,” said Harriet philosophically.
Well, that was true enough, but was Jasper flawed enough to have murdered his boyfriend? I didn’t know, but I wasn’t as gullible as Harriet to let a few tears and vows of never-ending love sway me. As far as I knew, he was the killer, even if Harriet chose to believe he was innocent.
“I think the boyfriend did it,” said Kingman, giving his opinion even though nobody had asked him. “Just think about it. Isn’t it always the husband or the wife that did it? So why not the boyfriend? Especially as there’s big money involved this time.”
“You just might be right,” I said. “What do the people in town think?”
“Most of them seem to agree that Jasper did it. Just so he could get his hands on the money, and make sure he wasn’t replaced by a younger model before he did. That endless parade of pretty young boys must have rubbed him the wrong way,” said Kingman, and that seemed to be the consensus.
“I think it’s sad,” said Harriet.
“What’s sad?” asked Kingman. “That Jasper killed him for his money?”
“That people have so little faith in the words of a man who was in love, and remained by Johnny’s side in this, the aging pop star’s twilight years.”
“Johnny wasn’t that old,” Kingman said.
“You know what I mean. It’s obvious that Jasper loved Johnny very much, to stay with him and have to watch how he threw his life away.” She sighed. “But then that’s true love for you. You simply stick together through the good and the bad, in sickness and in health, until death do you part.” She wiped away a tear. “I think it’s all so very, very romantic. And so very sad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Dooley, holding up his paw. “I think I’ve heard enough. You love Brutus and he loves you and there’s nothing we can do.”
“Nice rhyming skills, bro,” said Kingman.
“I was talking about you, you fool,” Harriet suddenly burst out, giving Dooley a thump on the shoulder. “You don’t desert a friend just because they happen to fall in love. Real friends stick together, through thick and thin.”
At this, she promptly turned around and stalked off, her nose in the air, leaving both Dooley and I stunned on the sidewalk. Kingman, though, laughed loudly. “Trouble in paradise, boys? What was all that about?”
I decided not to elaborate, as otherwise the story of this outburst would soon travel the entire town. Not that there was a lot we could do to stop that. Kingman would make sure that everyone knew that Dooley, Harriet and I had had a very public falling-out. And all because of that brute Brutus.
“What was Harriet talking about?” asked Dooley after we’d said goodbye to Kingman, promising to keep him in the loop.
“I have absolutely no idea,” I said, though perhaps this breaking up of the band had hit Harriet more than she let on. Being forced to choose between your best friends and your boyfriend must be a tough proposition, and it was obvious that Harriet wasn’t taking it well.
“Maybe we should make friends with Brutus,” Dooley said now.
“Never,” I told him adamantly. “That cat is the worst thing that has ever happened to this town, and we can’t let him think he’s defeated us.”
“But why can’t we simply try to get along?” asked Dooley.
I knew that the only reason he wanted to extend the olive branch was so he could get Harriet back into our lives.
I stopped mid-stride. “Look, Brutus is the enemy of everything we hold dear. If we let him, he will turn Hampton Cove into a prison camp.”
“I think you’re exaggerating, Max. I think deep down he’s not such a bad cat. He’s just… socially awkward.”
This was just too much. “You mean like Hitler was socially awkward? Or Stalin? That cat is the enemy, Dooley, and don’t you forget it!”
Dooley stared at me. “But I miss her, Max. I miss having Harriet around.”
“Well, that’s her choice. If she wants to hang with that cat and not with us, tough luck.”
“Tough luck for me,” said Dooley moodily.
“Look, I don’t like this situation either,” I told him. “I like Harriet and I miss her. But if we don’t stand firm on this, it’s the end of life as we know it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered.
It was obvious he was weakening. In the fight against the enemy, the enemy was winning crucial points. If even my best friend was already thinking about throwing in the towel, things were looking very glum indeed. I gave Dooley a gentle tap on the shoulder. “Hey. Don’t look so glum, chum.”
“I look glum because I feel glum,” he said glumly.
“Look, we’ll solve this murder and show Brutus he’s not the boss of us. Maybe then he’ll admit he was wrong to try and bully us into submission.”
“You think so?” Dooley asked, looking a little less glum.
“Of course. It works both ways. Harriet might be sent by Brutus to convince us to play ball, but two can play that game. We can use our influence on Harriet to convince Brutus he’s the one that should change.”
“I like that,” said Dooley softly.
I liked it, too. Though I doubted very much if Brutus was the kind of cat that could be persuaded to change his tune. Some cats simply never change.
Chapter 9
Odelia parked her aged, old pickup in front of the health food store. She’d been there a couple of times. Though she wasn’t big on health food solutions, she had been taking her daily vitamins lately, hoping they would gi
ve her the advertised energy boost. Her mom was the bigger fan, and Gran, too. Every time Odelia was over at her parents’ place she saw how her mom and grandma popped the herbal capsules by the dozen, probably hoping to extend their lifespan or to cure some disease they hadn’t yet contracted.
She entered the store and for a moment spent some time perusing the displays and the shelves stocked full. From fat reducing pills to stuff guaranteed to boost the immune system, she was sure her mom had tried them all. She picked up a box of capsules that promised to add extra Omega-3 fatty acids to her diet and reduce joint pain, and walked up to the counter at the back of the store. A man with a hipster beard and horn-rimmed glasses greeted her with a jovial smile. “Found something, hon?”
“I, um…” She wondered how to launch into a line of questioning that would lead the man to confess he was JPG’s drug supplier, and placed the box on the counter. “I found these,” she said with a fake grin. How easy it would be if she could just get Uncle Alec to let her flash a fake police badge. People answered all kinds of questions when they thought you were a cop.
“If you buy a second item today it’s fifty percent off,” said the guy.
“Actually I was wondering if you have something a little stronger?”
He eyed her over his glasses for a moment. “Stronger than Omega-3? What about the Omega-3-6-9 complex? More bang for your buck.”
She quickly checked left and right, making a display of trying to be discreet. Inadvertently the man moved a little closer. “I’m having a hard time relaxing at night,” she said. “And it’s taken a toll on my…” She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “On my love life,” she finally whispered.
A smile now spread across the man’s face, although it was hard to see through that bushy beard. “You need something to boost your love life?”
“Yeah, something really powerful,” she said. “Something… awesome.”
He nodded. “I’ve got exactly what you need right here.” He rummaged around beneath the counter for a moment, and Odelia’s heart skipped a beat.
Now she was getting somewhere. But instead of vials of GHB, he carefully placed a small box on the counter. She leaned in and saw that it said, ‘Firm Up Your Sex Life with Ginseng—Bedroom Miracle Cure.’
“How about that, huh?” the salesman asked. “That should hit the spot.”
“I…” She gestured at the ginseng. “Is that the best you can do? I mean,” she corrected herself, “Is that the most potent stuff in the store?”
“Sure is, hon. And all yours for nineteen-ninety-nine. Real bargain. Before you know it, you and your boyfriend will be humping like rabbits.” When she glared at him, he quickly corrected, “Or you and your girlfriend?”
She probably shouldn’t have mentioned her non-existent love life, but that didn’t give this guy the right to become personal. “Look, buster,” she said, running out of patience with this oversized bearded hobbit, “I know for a fact that you sell Liquid G out of this shop and don’t you dare deny it.”
At this, his perfectly groomed rectangular beard waggled. “Liquid G? I think you’re mistaking me for someone else, honey. This is a health food store. I strictly deal in health food solutions, not drugs.”
“Oh, yes, you do,” suddenly a gruff voice sounded behind Odelia.
She didn’t even have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. “Why is that wherever I go you keep showing up, Detective Kingsley?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Miss Poole,” he returned, then flashed his badge to the man behind the counter, who was still clutching the ginseng. “Please tell me you can do better than that,” he said, gesturing at the ginseng.
The man looked horrified. “You’re both cops?”
“No, Miss Poole is a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette. I’m with the Hampton Cove PD, Mr. Haggis. She likes to think she’s a cop, though.”
“I was doing great before you showed up,” she snapped.
“Yeah, you were doing fantastic. So you’re having issues with your love life, huh?”
“You heard that?” she asked, that blush creeping further up her cheeks.
“Even if I hadn’t wanted to, it was unavoidable. Your voice carries.”
“I was trying to be discreet,” she said, giving him her best scowl.
“And failing miserably, as usual.” He turned to the shopkeeper. “Mr. Orville Haggis, I presume? Owner and proprietor of The Vitamin King?”
“Uh-huh.”
“The question still stands, Orville. Were you selling GHB to JPG?”
The man’s mouth opened, then closed again, causing his beard to move as if operating on a hinge. Finally, he admitted, “Yes, I was.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how much ginseng you have to sell to make a living around here. So I have to supplement my income by shifting some of the more pricey items on the side. Johnny kept me in business.”
“Now we’re talking,” said Chase, with a quick glance at Odelia.
“I notice you’re referring to Johnny in the past tense, Mr. Haggis,” she said. “So you’re aware that he died last night?”
“I heard about that, yeah,” said Orville. “But I swear I had nothing to do with that.”
“I beg to differ,” said Chase. “I think you had everything to do with that. You see, it was your product that killed Johnny.”
“That’s impossible,” said Orville. “I always gave him the right dose. Johnny knew the deal. One vial and that’s it. He knew the risks, so if he took more than one, that’s not my fault.”
“What is your fault is that you were delivering an illegal substance to a very unstable pop star,” said Chase.
“Johnny wasn’t unstable. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Did you always deliver your vials with a seal?” asked Odelia.
“Yes, I did. The ones I prepared for Johnny carried his personal seal.”
She smiled. “Pink with a unicorn, right?”
“That’s right,” he said. “That’s the way he wanted it.”
“Any way the vials could have been tampered with?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” he asked. “I thought he died from an overdose.”
“Someone laced Johnny’s GHB with a very potent venom,” she said. “Which caused his heart to fail. Any idea what venom was used?” she asked Chase.
He stared at her, then rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but since you’re going to simply turn around and ask your uncle I might as well. The venom found belongs to the Australian funnel-web spider.”
She stared at him. “Spider venom?”
“Not just any spider. Apparently it’s the most lethal spider in the world. The weird thing? The venom is deadly only if injected directly into the bloodstream. When imbibed, its proteins are broken down by stomach acid, and the effect is greatly diminished. The only reason the venom was toxic in this case, is because Johnny was suffering from an enlarged heart, possibly caused by years of drug abuse.”
“So whoever administered the venom…”
“Was a rank amateur,” said Chase.
They both turned to Orville. “So it looks like you decided to off your best customer, Orville,” Chase said. “Now all I want to know is where you got the venom.”
“Spider venom? Are you crazy? I don’t even—why would I kill my best customer?”
“If you didn’t put that venom in that vial, who did?” asked Odelia.
“How should I know? I delivered the stuff to Johnny once a week. Enough vials for his guests, and the special batch I mixed up for him distinguished by the pink seal so nobody could tamper with it.”
“And you’re sure nobody could have had access to the vials? Someone who knew about this arrangement between you and Johnny?” she asked.
“Positive. I’m a one man operation and I personally prepared Johnny’s happy juice, as he liked to call it. Between this place and Johnny’s house, nobody messed with those vials. If t
hey were tampered with, it must have been by someone at Johnny’s end. Someone who knew about the pink seal.”
“How easy is it to reseal those vials?” asked Odelia.
“Very easy. It’s basically just a small sticker I put on top. Anybody could have peeled it off, dumped in that spider venom, and resealed it. Didn’t you find any fingerprints on the vial?”
“We did,” said Chase, darting a knowing look at Odelia. “Looks like we got the right man in jail after all.” Then he turned back to the health food guy, plucking a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “Orville Haggis, you’re under arrest for the illegal distribution—”
But before he could finish his sentence, Orville decided to skedaddle.
“Hey!” Chase yelled as the guy swung around and disappeared through a door behind him. “Hell,” the cop grunted, and vaulted the counter. “You wait here, Poole.”
But Odelia had a better idea. She quickly raced through the store and slammed through the front door. As she did, she saw Orville straddling a red Ducati and, as she watched, kicked it to life and raced off. She ran to her pickup and hopped in. After a few coughs, the engine roared to life, and she backed the car up on screeching tires. Just then, Chase came bolting full-speed through the small alley dividing The Vitamin King from the Chinese restaurant next door. She pushed open the passenger door. “Hop in!”
And then she was stomping down on the accelerator, tires squealing and spraying the front of The Vitamin King with gravel. Finally finding purchase, the truck lurched forward and they were off at a healthy clip in pursuit of the hipster drug dealer. The pickup bumped into a depression in the asphalt at the edge of the parking lot and then swung onto the main road, merging into traffic with smoking tires.
“Please tell me you learned how to drive since the last time I rode with you,” Chase said, sounding a little winded.
“Please tell me that that short chase didn’t knock the wind out of you.”
“I haven’t found a decent fitness club in town yet,” he grumbled. “It’s been weeks since my last training session and I’m starting to feel the strain.”