The Case of the Prescient Poodle

by B R Snow

  “Well,” Gerald said, choosing his words carefully. “Detective Renfro isn’t without political aspirations of his own. And I did happen to mention that I would appreciate his cooperation and be more than happy to push some of the requisite buttons on his behalf at the appropriate time.”

  “English, please, Gerald,” I said, frowning.

  “His career goal is to become the Police Commissioner,” Gerald said.

  “Is that a possibility?” Josie said.

  “Sure,” Gerald said, nodding. “He’s a bit young, but Detective Renfro has an excellent reputation, and with the right recommendations, he would be in a good position should the job become vacant.”

  “Should or when?” I said, staring across the table at him.

  “Oh, you caught that?” Gerald said as he reached for a piece of cheese.

  “Are you saying that the Police Commissioner might somehow be involved in whatever is going on?”

  “Gee, I sure hope not,” he said, refilling everyone’s iced tea. “But he is on shaky ground at the moment with the Premier.”

  “Because of this stuff?” I said, frowning.

  “No, definitely not,” Gerald said. “I doubt if the Premier or the Commissioner know the specifics of Detective Renfro’s investigation.”

  “How is that even possible?” Josie said.

  “They’re both very busy people,” Gerald said, deflecting the question with a shrug.

  “I smell smoke,” I said, laughing. “They don’t know much about the investigation because Detective Renfro thinks one or both of them might be involved. That’s it, isn’t it, Gerald?”

  “Perhaps,” he said, staring out at the ocean.

  “You dirty dog. You’re next in line to be Premier, aren’t you?” I said, staring at him.

  “Suzy, I serve at the pleasure of my constituents,” he said, going for solemn but unable to control his grin. “But if called upon, I would be honored to serve.”

  “You’ve got this whole thing figured out already, don’t you?” I said.

  “Only the possible scenarios,” he said, shrugging. “It’s not that hard. There are only a couple of ways this could play out.”

  “Yeah, I get it. If the Premier is involved in something nefarious, and you and Detective Renfro are instrumental in uncovering it, you slide right into his chair before it even has a chance to get cold. And bring Detective Renfro along with you. But if the Premier isn’t involved, and you’re able to prove that, you’ll have his eternal gratitude as well as probably become a national hero for defending the honor and integrity of the government. Either way, you come out of it smelling like a rose.”

  “You really are too smart for your own good,” Gerald said, laughing.

  “And you want to use me as what, some sort of bait?”

  “Of course not,” he said, glaring at me. “I want you to help William.”

  “And give yourself some additional cover if this blows up in your face?” I said. “You know, blame the crazy lady who spends her free time kidnapping roosters.”

  “I would never do anything like that, Suzy,” he said, catching and holding my eyes with his until I finally nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll play,” I said.

  “Like you needed convincing,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head.

  “Oh, no, Gerald,” Josie said. “Not the briar patch.”

  “You two can stop now,” I said, glancing back and forth at them.

  “No one can know I’ve asked you to help me out.”

  “Because you’re worried about how the Premier and the Police Commissioner might react, right?”

  “No, because your mother would kill me if she knew.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. Then another thought popped. “Hang on a sec. You said a few minutes ago that the connection between the cockfighting and smuggling was only part of the problem. There’s more?”

  “Yes,” Gerald said, removing a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “There’s this.”

  He handed it to me, and I carefully opened it. A message created from block letters was glued in a jumbled mess on the page.

  “We know what you did,” I said, reading aloud from the note. I glanced across the table at Gerald and waited.

  “William found that in his office mail the day after Jensen’s yacht blew up,” Gerald said. “There wasn’t any postmark on it.”

  “He’s being blackmailed?”

  “No, that’s the strange thing,” Gerald said. “William thinks somebody is trying to frame him for the Jensen’s murders.”

  “They’re not asking for any money?” I said.

  “Not yet,” he said. “And William doesn’t think they’re going to. He thinks that someone wants him arrested and put in jail.”

  “Because of what it could do to his father, right?” I said.

  “You’re on fire today,” Gerald said, grinning.

  “And on only three hours of sleep,” Josie said, laughing.

  “Aren’t you sweet,” I said, glancing over at her. “But I sure could use a nap.” I turned to Gerald. “Is there anything else?”

  “Just this,” he said as he removed a second note from his pocket. “This was in his office mail yesterday. No postmark on this one either.”

  “Resignation is always an honorable option,” I said, reading the message comprised of different sized letters glued onto the page. “It looks like somebody wants the Premier to ride off into the sunset.”

  “That can’t be anything new,” Josie said. “There’s always a ton of people who want the person in power to go away.”

  “Of course,” Gerald said. “But you usually don’t see notes that look like that.”

  “Weird,” I said, nodding. “So, somebody is trying to get to the Premier through his estranged son.” I thought about it for a moment, but nothing specific popped to the surface. “You mentioned that both of the notes just happened to show up in his office mail.”

  “They did,” Gerald said.

  “What does William do for work?” I said casually as I poked my shoulder with a finger to test for sunburn.

  “He owns a company that does a lot of work for construction companies,” Gerald said, giving me a strange look.

  “Construction?” I said, letting the idea roll around in my head. Then I frowned. “It wouldn’t by any chance be a demolition company, would it?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is,” Gerald whispered.

  “William’s an explosives expert, isn’t he?” I said.

  “He is.”

  “Wow,” Chef Claire said, shaking her head. “How does she put stuff together like that?”

  “I have no idea,” Josie said. “No wonder she gets along so well with the poodle.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, ignoring them as I let my train of thought run wild. “There’s a bunch of explosives that’s gone missing from his company.”

  “Yes,” Gerald said.

  “Enough to blow up a yacht, right?”

  “More than enough,” he said, nodding. “I knew you were the right person to talk to.”

  “Don’t you dare tell my mother,” I said, holding my hand out.

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said, accepting my pinkie swear.

  Chapter 17

  I waved as I strolled down the dock, untied the bow and stern lines, then tossed them onto the boat and hopped in.

  “It looks like you’ve done this before,” Detective Renfro said, apparently impressed.

  “Boats?” I said. “Yeah, I’ve been on the water a few times.” I glanced around at the boat I guessed was about twenty feet long and powered by a two hundred horsepower outboard motor. “This is nice. Works for fishing, skiing, or just tooling around, right?”

  “Thanks, I like it,” Detective Renfro said. “I bought it used a couple of years ago. I finally decided it didn’t make any sense living here if I didn’t have a boat.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” I said. “But was
it really necessary for us to go out on the water?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be seen together,” he said, firing up the engine and accelerating away from the dock.

  The boat planed and I let the sun wash over me as we headed for deep water. A couple miles from shore, Detective Renfro slowed to an idle then turned the engine off. We began a slow drift as the breeze caught the boat and started to do its thing. The detective grabbed two beers from the cooler and handed me one.

  “Leftover inventory from your moonlighting as a beer vendor?” I said, holding up my can.

  “Yeah,” he said, taking a long sip. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw you guys there.”

  “I can’t believe you took that photo then sold us out to the cops.”

  “Sorry, but I couldn’t resist,” he said, laughing.

  “Well played, Detective,” I said, raising my beer in salute.

  I took a sip and stretched out on the seat that ran along the starboard side.

  “Good call coming out here. It’s a gorgeous day,” I said, nodding as I gazed out at the open water. “This isn’t far from where the yacht blew up, is it?”

  “No, it’s pretty close,” he said, stretching out on the seat across from me.

  “Where you ever able to recover anything after the explosion?” I said.

  “Nothing much of any real use,” he said. “We found Jensen’s hat floating on the surface. And we also found a set of keys attached to one of those bobbers. We think they belonged to his wife. The rest of what was left is now resting comfortably somewhere on the bottom of the ocean.”

  “The water is deep around here,” I said, glancing over the side of the boat.

  “It is,” he said, taking another sip. “There’s no way we’ll ever recover any of it. Not that anybody has any interest in looking for it.”

  I nodded then yawned.

  “Am I boring you already?” he said, laughing.

  “No, not at all. I’m still a little behind in my sleep.”

  “Stop spending late nights at the police station.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the tip,” I said, making a face at him. “Okay, I guess we should get started. I assume you want to go over the ground rules first?”

  “That’s as good a place as any to start,” he said, sitting up. “We need to agree that you’ll give me advance notice of everyone you plan to talk to. As well as where and when.”

  “I can live with that,” I said.

  “And I’ll expect a full report on each conversation,” he said.

  “Of course,” I said, stifling another yawn. “Do you have a list of people you’d like me to talk to?”

  “I do,” he said, reaching for his notepad.

  “The Premier’s son?”

  “Yeah, but not right away,” Detective Renfro said. “I’d like to know a bit more before you talk to him. How would you approach William?”

  “I thought I’d play up his connection to Gerald. Maybe William will open up to me after he knows that I’ve talked with Gerald about his problem.”

  “Out of a concern for his well-being,” the detective said, nodding. “Yeah, I like that.”

  “You really think he might be involved in smuggling?”

  “Given his past, I do,” he said, draining the last of his beer. “Wow, that went down way too easy.”

  “I don’t like him for it,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Really? Do tell,” he said, hopping up to grab two more beers from the cooler.

  “Those notes he received about how they knew he blew up the yacht. It just seems too easy. And Gerald said the kid has been doing everything he could to get back in his father’s good graces.”

  “Maybe he thought his father would give him a medal for blowing up Jensen’s yacht,” he said, handing me a fresh beer.

  “The Premier and Jensen had history?” I said, finishing my first beer.

  “They did. And it was based on mutual hatred. Jensen did everything he could to undermine the Premier every chance he got,” Detective Renfro said, stretching back out on the seat.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Well, the Premier has tried to crack down on a lot of the money laundering that goes on in the islands, and he’s been tough on crime. If you were smuggling drugs and dealing with a lot of cash, that seems like a couple of good reasons.”

  “Did Jensen pump money into his opponent’s campaigns?”

  “He did. As well as try to get several local reporters on his payroll to do his bidding,” the detective said, then paused for effect. “And possibly a few cops as well.”

  “He bought off some of the local cops?” I said, sitting up.

  “You hear stories,” the detective said, shrugging.

  “Interesting,” I said, debating about whether or not to broach the subject. Then I decided I might as well toss a line in the water. “Do you think the Police Commissioner might be corrupt?”

  The detective remained silent for several seconds, then shrugged again.

  “You hear stories.”

  “Gerald said the Commissioner and the Premier aren’t on good terms at the moment,” I said, taking a sip of my fresh beer.

  “They never have been,” he said. “Our Premier is very focused on change. The Commissioner is more interested in, let’s call it, preserving the status quo. You know, maintaining the tradition.”

  “A tradition of corruptness?”

  “You said it, not me.”

  “Was the Commissioner close to Jensen?”

  “I believe he was at one point.”

  “You said you weren’t aware that Jensen was smuggling dope, right?”

  “Until his yacht blew up, I didn’t have a clue,” Detective Renfro said. “Then a few things started making some more sense.”

  “And got you thinking that the Commissioner might somehow be involved?”

  “Yeah,” he said, deep in thought. “But I can’t figure out how he, Jensen, and William might have been connected.”

  I gave it some thought, then let it go. I was going to need a whole bunch more information before I could make that leap.

  “When in doubt, poke the bear,” I said, staring out at the water.

  “That’s why you’re here,” he said, laughing.

  “I’d like to have a chat with the Commissioner,” I said.

  “How are you going to do that without making him suspicious?”

  “I’m about to give him some money.”

  “Oh, the donation,” Detective Renfro said after thinking it through. “I like it. But don’t try to get cute with him.”

  “I can’t help being cute, Detective,” I said, laughing as I struck a pose for him.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I got it. In addition to talking to William, you want me to talk with Jennifer Jensen again and the people staying at her house, right?”

  “I do,” he said, nodding.

  “You practicing, Detective?” I said, grinning at him. “I suggest you put a little bass in your voice.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “You said I do. I thought you might be practicing for your upcoming nuptials.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be able to manage,” he said, shaking his head. “You are so weird.”

  “Yeah, I really need to start working on that.”

  “You think you’ll be able to come up with a plausible reason to drop by the daughter’s house?”

  “I’ll have to give it some thought,” I said. “But I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out a way to use the dog as an excuse.”

  “Good,” he said, nodding.

  “Is that all the folks you want me to have a chat with?”

  “Just about.”

  “There’s more?” I said, frowning.

  “Just one.”

  I let my mind wander through the possibilities, came up empty, then a thought popped into my head.

  “Please tell me you
’re not thinking about the guy who ran the cockfight?” I said, scowling at the memory.

  “Yeah, Ramon,” Detective Renfro said. “That’s the one. Well done. I never thought you’d get it.”

  “Yuk,” I said. “The man’s a pig.”

  “He certainly is. But we’re stuck at the moment when it comes to Ramon.”

  “You think he might be the one who’s moving the coke once it hits land?” I said.

  “Based on some of the people I’ve seen him talking with at recent cockfights, I think it’s a possibility.”

  “Some of those people were the ones staying at Jennifer Jensen’s place, right?”

  “Well done,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

  “I have my moments,” I said. “What does Ramon do for work when he’s not putting on cockfights?”

  “He works construction,” Detective Renfro said, then let his comment hang in the air.

  “On demolition crews?” I said, cocking my head at him.

  “Occasionally.”

  “He works for William?”

  “Occasionally.”

  I stared down at my rapidly disappearing second beer then set it down next to me.

  “I’m getting a headache,” I said, reaching into my bag for a bottle of Advil.

  “Seasick?”

  “Neuron overload,” I said, washing four pills down with a small sip of beer. “This is a lot to process.”

  “Take your time,” he said, laughing. “I’ve been working on it for months. Let’s have some lunch. Maybe that will help your headache.”

  “It’s certainly worth a shot,” I said, following him to the cooler. He handed me a thick sandwich, and I unwrapped it and took a bite. I nodded my approval then took a bigger bite. “Have you guys set a wedding date?”

  “We’re getting close,” he said. “I can’t wait. We’re hoping to have to have our first kid right away.”

  “Me too,” I blurted, then shook my head and frowned.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever said that out loud.”

  “How did it feel?” he said.

  “Not bad. Not bad at all,” I said, smiling. “But do me a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t tell my mother.”