by Nic Saint
Odelia walked over to her own office and started working on her article on the Maria Power retrospective. And she’d been working for about half an hour, smiling at some of the pictures she’d snapped of her uncle and Charlene Butterwick dressed up as gnomes, when suddenly her door flew open and Chase walked in. He was slightly out of breath.
“There’s been another murder,” he said without preamble. “Jack Warner. And this time Dan was caught red-handed.” He eyed her seriously. “I’m afraid he did it, babe. Your boss is officially a serial killer.”
Dooley and I were lounging on the sidewalk in front of Wilbur Vickery’s General Store, enjoying a few rays of sun on our fur, and some of the kibble Kingman had been so kind to wrangle up for us, when all hell broke loose across the street.
The Hampton Cove Star is our town’s boutique hotel, and home to visiting celebrities and other notables. Now it was also the scene of quite the ruckus, as police cars arrived in droves, and suddenly we could see Odelia and Chase hurry up and enter the hotel.
“Let’s go, Dooley,” I said immediately. “Something’s happened.”
“Oh, do we have to?” he asked, chewing on a piece of chicken kibble. He, too, was suffering from the strain the mice had imposed on our home and hearth.
But when he saw my expression, he immediately swallowed the piece of kibble whole and joined me in padding across the street, careful not to get pancaked by an overzealous driver.
We arrived there just as Odelia and Chase were standing around waiting for the elevator to heed their call, and Odelia smiled. “Just in time,” she said as she crouched down and tickled our necks. Then she grew serious, and whispered, “Keep your eyes peeled, you guys. Dan’s life depends on it.”
She didn’t offer any more information, but what she’d said sounded ominous enough to me.
We rode the elevator up in silence, and got off on the third floor. It soon became clear what had happened when we stepped into one of the rooms. There, lying on the floor, was Jack Warner, and he looked pretty dead to me. And right next to him… another garden gnome.
“It’s the garden gnome gang again!” Dooley cried. “First they steal the gnomes and then they use them to kill people!”
“I’m not sure it’s the same gang, though,” I said as I glanced around. I picked up a strong whiff of the scent I’d grown to associate with Maria Power again, which was hardly surprising as the same dress we’d seen hanging in Jack Warner’s apartment was draped across the bed for some reason.
“I wonder why he decided to bring that dress here,” I said.
“Maybe he likes to dress in women’s clothes,” Dooley suggested. “Some men are like that.”
“But why take a hotel room?” I asked. And what did Odelia mean when she said Dan was in mortal danger?
“Yes, we arrested Dan,” Uncle Alec was saying. “One of the cleaners caught him in the act, hovering over the victim, the gnome still in his hand. Her testimony sealed the deal.”
“Where is she?” asked Chase. “The cleaner?”
“Randal sent her home. She was completely overwrought. He told her we’d interview her later, when she’d recovered from the shock.”
Odelia nodded, glancing around. “So describe to me what happened, Uncle Alec. Exactly.”
Her uncle cleared his throat and assumed a wide-legged stance. “Well, Jack Warner arrived at the hotel at eight thirty. According to the receptionist he was in fine fettle. Told her this was the best day of his life. Though he didn’t say why that was, the receptionist figured he probably had a date lined up. Often people use the hotel for that purpose.”
“So then what happened?”
“Well, the receptionist was on the lookout for this illustrious date, Jack being well known to her, as she’s a member of the Maria Power Society herself. And so when Dan suddenly showed up…” He shrugged. “To say she was surprised is an understatement.”
“Dan told me had an important appointment he didn’t want to miss,” said Odelia. “He didn’t tell me it was Jack Warner, though.”
“No, he wouldn’t tell you, would he? Not if he planned to kill the man.”
“So then this cleaner walks in and Dan is standing over the dead man?” Chase asked.
The Chief nodded. “She opened the door by mistake, figuring the room was empty, and caught Dan in the act, still holding the gnome. He dropped it when he saw her and she started screaming her head off.” His face took on a grave note. “And then he ran off.”
“Dan ran off?” asked Odelia.
“Yeah. He did a runner. Didn’t get far, though. The cleaner immediately called down to the lobby, and by the time Dan arrived, they stopped him and called the cops. Randal and Sarah were first on the scene, and they arrested him on the spot.” There was a note of satisfaction in his voice. “And this time he’s not going to walk any time soon.”
20
Odelia, as she sat down for the interview, remembered her promise to Dan: that she was going to catch this killer. Only she hadn’t thought that he’d go out and murder a man immediately afterward.
She found it hard to focus on the words of the hotel’s housekeeping supervisor, as her mind kept returning to the conversation with Dan that morning. He’d seemed so down in the dumps. And then to come here and kill his main rival? Why would he do such a thing? And had she read the man wrong all this time? It was hard to imagine.
They were in the bowels of the hotel, where the housekeeping department was located. Cleaners were passing through the supervisor’s office, inquiring after what had happened, but when they saw she was busy talking to the police, just as quickly disappeared again, like diffident creatures of the night.
The supervisor was a sturdily built woman, with an honest open face and a ready smile. “I thought it strange, you know,” she said now. “Daisy wasn’t supposed to come in today. And so when I heard she’d shown up after all, and had witnessed a murder…” She shook her head. “Terrible. Absolutely terrible.”
“Do you have her address, because my colleague forgot to take it down,” said Chase.
“Oh, of course,” said the woman, swiveling in her chair and turning to her computer. She’d placed her glasses on her nose and was frowning at the screen while she tapped a few keys. “Here it is. Daisy Rayo. Been with us four years now. Very nice girl. Hard worker.”
“And you’re saying she wasn’t even supposed to be here today?”
“No! It was her day off. She must have gotten the dates mixed up. Happens sometimes. Though not to Daisy, who’s very precise about that sort of thing.”
“Did you see her before she went home?”
“No. By the time we were told, she’d already left. But Mimi saw her, and said she looked terrible. Crying her eyes out. In a terrible state, Daisy was. Good thing they sent her home, poor thing. To run into a killer like that—he could have turned on her and killed her, too! Isn’t that what these serial killers do with witnesses? Kill them so they won’t talk?” She shivered. “Who would have thought nice and friendly Dan Goory would turn out to be some kind of monster?”
“Oh, come on, Dan,” said Alec. “You can’t keep giving me the same nonsense. This time you were caught in the act—murder weapon in your hands, for crying out loud!”
“I shouldn’t have done that, I know,” said Dan, who looked even smaller and more wizened than before. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, when I saw Jack lying there, that gnome next to his head, I didn’t think. I just picked it up and…”
“Were caught by the cleaner.”
Dan nodded. “Stupid, I know.”
“Stupid is trying to convince me you didn’t do it.”
“But I swear to God, I didn’t!”
“First tell me what you were doing there. I thought you and Jack were sworn enemies?”
“We were. Which is why I was so surprised when I got his message late last night.”
“What message?”
Dan nodded to his phone, which was
lying on the table between them. “Check my messages. It’s right there.”
Alec picked up the phone and frowned at the thing. “Um…” he said. “So how do you…” He fumbled around for a bit, then handed the thing to Dan. “You open it.”
Dan typed in his code and Alec immediately grabbed the phone from the editor’s hands again, earning him a sad look in response.
“So what am I looking for here?” Alec muttered, and then found the message and read aloud, “Dear Dan, I propose a truce. Our clubs have been at daggers drawn for far too long. I think it’s time we joined forces. Just think of all the wonderful things we could do if we put our heads together and stopped this ridiculous war! If you’re interested I’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at nine at the Star—room 328. I sincerely hope you’ll come. Jack.” He glanced up. “So he was proposing a truce, was he?”
“Yeah, took me completely by surprise, I have to confess, as last night at the retrospective he was less than friendly. In fact he was downright mean. Claiming my club was bound to fail with this murder charge hanging over my head, and a dozen of my members had already jumped ship and joined his club.”
“So what happened, you walked in, got into a fight and smashed his head in?”
“No! I walked in and he was already dead.”
“Who opened the door?”
“It was open. I just pushed it open further.”
“And there was nobody else there.”
“No one. And then suddenly this cleaner walks in and starts screaming her head off. I thought she was going to attack me, so I panicked and ran. Which of course I shouldn’t have done.”
Alec thought for a moment. Contrary to the day before, he now found himself wondering if the man seated across from him was telling the truth. He could see Dan smashing the head of some woman in a lovers’ tiff, but not that of Jack Warner. The two of them had been at each other’s throats for years, and if they were going to kill each other, they’d have done it a long time ago.
No, something wasn’t right here. He could feel it in his (admittedly sizable) gut.
“All right,” he said. “You’re going to spend the night in the slammer, and probably you’ll be charged tomorrow and arraigned. But I’m going to talk to this cleaner and hear what she has to say. And I’m going to try and find possible other witnesses. Cause if what you’re saying is true, someone else killed Jack, and Heather Gallop, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Twice.”
Dan nodded miserably. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. Again. This is a nightmare, Alec. A regular nightmare.”
21
Odelia and Chase arrived at the home of Daisy Rayo and Odelia found herself thinking she lived in a pretty nice house for a cleaner. Then, dismissing the thought as irrelevant, she applied her index finger to the buzzer and pressed. She could hear the sound of the bell jangling inside the house, and patiently waited on the doorstep.
“If this woman really saw Dan bent over Jack with the gnome in his hand things are looking pretty bad for your boss,” said Chase.
“Things are looking bad for him regardless of Daisy Rayo’s witness statement,” said Odelia. “An innocent man doesn’t run—or at least that’s what I’ve always been told.”
“Even an innocent man can panic,” Chase pointed out. “Especially if he’s already been arrested the day before for a crime he didn’t commit.”
Odelia looked up at this. “So you don’t think he did it either?”
Chase hesitated. “Dan doesn’t strike me as a killer, babe. On the other hand, people will surprise you. A man you never considered a killer can sometimes turn out to be capable of the most heinous crime. So frankly I don’t know.”
She didn’t know either. It was hard to imagine that the man she’d been working for was a serial killer. But that’s what the evidence clearly pointed toward, so…
She pressed her finger to the bell again, and wondered if Daisy might have stepped out.
She brought her face closer to the glass and tried to peer inside. It was hard to see anything, as the glass was of the frosted variety. So instead she bent down and looked through the letterbox.
Once her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, her blood ran cold when she saw the lifeless figure lying at the bottom of the stairs.
“My, God, I think she fell, Chase,” she said, and tried the door. Locked, of course.
“Let me try,” said Chase, and put his shoulder against the door. It didn’t budge. “Call an ambulance,” he said. “I’ll see if I can get in through the back.”
Odelia did as he said, and moments later the door swung open and Chase appeared, twigs in his hair and looking slightly out of breath. “Had to climb a tree,” he explained. “Bathroom window was open. I think I might have stepped on a rubber duck, though.”
They both entered and approached the figure lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Her neck was at an awkward angle, and even before Chase pressed his fingers to her throat to find a pulse, Odelia knew the girl was dead.
“Oh, heck,” she said, sitting back on her haunches. “What’s going on, Chase? This is the third death in two days, and all of them connected.”
“She could have fallen down the stairs,” he said, but Odelia shook her head.
“Too much of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? First she provides a witness statement fingering Dan for murder, and then she falls to her death less than an hour later? Something isn’t right.”
Chase glanced around, then looked past Odelia and got up. “Ma’am,” he called out, and Odelia watched him jog across the street.
She just wished she’d brought her cats along. They might have been able to sniff out some clues. And as if they’d been reading her mind, just then Max and Dooley tripped inside through the open door.
“We decided to follow you,” Max explained.
“We like Dan, and we don’t want you to lose your job,” Dooley added.
“What happened here?” Max asked.
“She fell down the stairs,” Odelia said.
“Fell or was pushed?” Max asked immediately, showing he was no fool.
Odelia shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
Chase had returned. “Lady across the street just told me the weirdest thing. Said she saw Daisy enter the house this morning, then walk in again two hours later, only she never saw her leave.”
“Of course not. She fell down the stairs.”
“No, before that. She walked in, and then she walked in again.”
Odelia frowned, then shook her head. “Wait, what?”
“She said she saw Daisy enter the house at eight, after going for her morning run, which the neighbor, whose name is Mrs. Smithers, by the way, says she did every day, rain or shine. And then she saw her enter the house again at nine thirty. Only she says she never saw her leave between eight and nine thirty.”
“What does that mean?”
Chase grinned. “It means Mrs. Smithers is a nosy parker, but an imperfect one. Even nosy parkers have to go the bathroom from time to time, right? They can’t all be seated in front of the window all the time.”
Odelia nodded. In the distance, the sound of an ambulance could be heard. Max and Dooley had returned from their brief perusal of the house. “No pets,” Max announced.
“No mice either,” said Dooley, bringing a smile to Odelia’s face in spite of the circumstances.
“Which means no witnesses,” she murmured.
“Nothing from your cats?” asked Chase, who was used to Odelia’s special relationship with her cats by now.
“Nope, nothing.”
“There is a very strong scent of Maria Power hanging all over the house, though,” said Max. “But that can easily be explained.” He gestured to the stairs. “The woman had a regular shrine to the actress in one of the upstairs rooms.”
Odelia nodded and headed up the stairs. She took a left turn, as Max indicated, and was surprised to find a room completely fil
led with Maria Power paraphernalia: movie posters, pictures, cups and saucers with her likeness… and a hat once worn by the actress.
“Another Maria Power fan,” she said.
“Yep,” said Max, who’d followed her in. “That name keeps cropping up.”
“I think we better pay a visit to Maria Power herself. Somehow this entire case seems to revolve around her.”
“And gnomes,” said Max. “Don’t forget about the gnomes.”
22
All the way to the house of Maria Power, silence hung like a wet blanket over the car. In the backseat, as usual, Dooley and myself. Behind the wheel: Chase, with Odelia riding shotgun. In a second car, following right behind us, was Uncle Alec, who didn’t want to miss this chance to meet the one and only Maria Power for the world.
Odelia and Chase, too, were, judging by the silence, deeply impressed by this unique opportunity to talk to the reclusive actress, who was pretty much an icon in the acting world.
To be absolutely honest it wasn’t meeting the iconic legend of the silver screen I was looking forward to as much as her cats, which I sincerely hoped she owned. But even more than Miss Power’s cats it was their kibble I hoped to lay my paws on. Apart from the nuggets of food Kingman had awarded us, I hadn’t eaten all morning, since the mice had stolen our food, and my belly was making its displeasure known loud and clear.
“I’m hungry,” said Dooley, showing he felt exactly the same way about our upcoming visit.
“Yeah, we really need to fix those mice,” I said. “If this goes on much longer I’ll starve.”
