Purrfect Murder (The Mysteries of Max Book 1)

by Nic Saint

  “Well, you’re going to be, if Brutus has his way.”

  Dooley stared after Brutus and Harriet as they strutted their stuff without holding back, giggling and prancing like a couple of love cats.

  “I like Harriet,” said Dooley sadly. “I like her a lot. And I always thought that over time she’d learn to like me, too. I guess I was wrong, huh?”

  I shook my head. “Where does he come off, calling you a gib?”

  “Did he say that? I didn’t even notice,” said Dooley, with a hangcat expression on his face.

  Suddenly I got an idea. “Do you know if Brutus is neutered?”

  “How would I know? I didn’t check… down there.”

  “Maybe that explains it.”

  “Explains what?”

  “Everything! His aggressive nature. The way Harriet is completely smitten with him. The way he’s taken over this town… That cat,” I said, pointing a paw at Brutus’s retreating back, “has not been fixed, Dooley. Which is a clear violation of the rules and regulations of this town.”

  “You think we should tell someone?”

  “I think it’s our sacred duty, Dooley,” I declared.

  The light of hope was gleaming in my friend’s eyes. “What if we told Odelia? And she told Chief Alec? Who told Chase?”

  “He’d have no choice but to have Brutus neutered,” I said with a grin.

  “That would change his tune.”

  “Bring him down a peg. Or two.”

  “Or three or four.”

  “Two, Dooley. Even Brutus only has two… you know.”

  “Oh! Right. Of course. Two it is.”

  “It might even make Harriet fall out of love with the guy.”

  “Like you said, Max, it is our sacred duty to make sure the law is upheld.”

  “And even more so since Brutus is an officer of that same law.”

  I held up my paw, and Dooley slapped it in a genuine and heartfelt high-five. “Let’s get this cat fixed, buddy,” said Dooley, his despondency gone.

  And so we set out on a new mission, and set paw for the newspaper, where we hoped to find Odelia. It was a good thing that Dan always liked to leave the door to the office open, so we waltzed in and went straight for Odelia’s office, where we found her checking something on her computer.

  “Odelia, have we got news for you!” I announced our presence.

  “Oh, hey, Max. Dooley. I don’t have a lot of time, guys. I’m on my way to Uncle Alec for an update on the murder case.”

  “We’ll keep it brief,” I promised her, and proceeded to give her a quick summary of the conversation between Chase and Tex. To say that she was surprised was an understatement. Apparently this was all news to her, which was gratifying, of course. But when we added the even more stunning scoop that Brutus wasn’t neutered, she suddenly lost interest. But isn’t that always the case? Cats are only interested in cats, and humans in humans. It’s simply the way the cookie crumbles. So when I told her to tell Chief Alec about Brutus’s unneutered state, she merely mumbled something under her breath, grabbed her clutch from the desk and waltzed out without another word.

  “Do you think we got the message across?” asked Dooley.

  “I think we’ll need to follow up on that one,” I told him.

  “I think so, too. Somehow I don’t think she grasped the significance.”

  Humans. They’re perfectly nice people, but you gotta watch them.

  Chapter 11

  “Poole,” Odelia said. “My name is Poole. Odelia Poole.”

  She stared annoyedly at the mayor’s secretary. The woman was new, and apparently didn’t know who she was. Odelia was anxious to have a word with the mayor’s wife, who she knew had an office right next to her husband, from where she coordinated Hampton Cove’s beautification committee. She needed her to confirm Aissa’s story so she could take her off the suspect list.

  Upon leaving the newspaper, she’d popped into the police station to have a word with Uncle Alec, but unfortunately he’d proved unavailable. According to Dolores he’d been summoned to the mayor’s office to give an update on the Paulo Frey case, a case destined to shake this small town to its foundations. Not only were murders pretty rare around here, but a celebrity writer being murdered was unheard of. If one celebrity got killed, it was bound to give other celebrities ideas, and soon they would start avoiding this town en masse, which was definitely bad for business.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Poole,” the secretary said, “but the mayor is busy right now, and so is his wife.”

  She nodded, wondering whether the mayor’s wife was busy with Chase. If he followed the same pattern she did, he probably was in there questioning her right now. If only she could skip one step and go straight to the next suspect, she could get ahead of him, and solve this murder before he did. Wouldn’t it be fun if he read in his morning paper who Paulo Frey’s murderer was? That would make him feel pretty stupid, wouldn’t it?

  So she decided not to wait for the mayor’s wife, and to simply assume Aissa hadn’t lied about her alibi. She checked her notes, and saw that the next person to talk to was Gabby Cleret, the well-known Hollywood actress.

  She’d left her pickup parked in front of her father’s office, and now quickly returned there to fetch it. And as she did, she saw that her father had just stepped out of his office and was on his way back from the hardware store next door, carrying what looked like a big roll of screen.

  “Hey, honey,” he said when he saw her. “We keep running into each other today, don’t we?”

  “It’s a small town, Dad,” she said, then gestured at the roll of screen. “What are you up to?”

  “Oh, I promised your mother I’d finally fix that screen door. It’s been broken ever since your cat destroyed it last summer.”

  “My cat? Wasn’t it your cat who jumped on the screen and ripped it to shreds?”

  He grinned. “I think they all played an equal part in its destruction. Oh, before I forget,” he said as she made to go to her pickup. “There’s something I need you to do for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know if you met him, but your uncle Alec hired a new cop. His name is Chase Kingsley and he just arrived in town a couple of days ago.”

  Her lips tightened and she crossed her arms as she leaned back against her car. “We’ve met.”

  He flashed her a grin. “Oh, that’s right. Chase told me you did.”

  “Did he now?”

  “Uh-huh. He was in here just now for a, um, consultation. The thing is, Chase used to work as a cop in New York, and got in trouble over some business out there. It’s no great secret, as it’s been all over the New York papers a couple of months ago. He was dishonorably discharged from the NYPD,” he said, also leaning against the car.

  “Yes, I know,” she said tersely. She could hardly tell her dad that she also knew all about the conversation he’d had with Chase in his office. It had certainly made her think. If it was true that he’d been framed, it changed everything. But she hadn’t made up her mind that he’d been telling the truth.

  A few passersby nodded friendly greetings at father and daughter Poole, and Tex greeted them back jovially while Odelia merely glared at them. She knew exactly what her dad was going to ask her to do, and she’d been dreading the moment ever since Max and Dooley had told her about it.

  “Look, I’d like to correct the impression that Chase is some kind of bad apple,” said Tex. “I can’t go into too much detail without divulging certain confidential information that’s strictly between my patient and me, but…”

  “Just spit it out, Dad. What is it you want to tell me?”

  “Chase has been wronged, honey. That story about him assaulting a suspect’s wife? That’s just a load of poppycock. So I told him I’d talk to you, Hampton Cove’s premier reporter, and convince you to help spread the word that Chase Kingsley is a fine, upstanding citizen and a great cop, and that whole nonsense about his dismissal is simply
one big misunderstanding.”

  “I don’t know, Dad,” she said, shaking her head. “Are you saying he didn’t assault that woman?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. And what Chase is saying.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I most certainly do.”

  She shook her head again. Dad was always a sucker for a sob story. Whereas she was a hard-nosed reporter, he believed anything. As she saw it, it was Chase’s word against the woman he’d allegedly molested, so who was she to believe? This far-fetched tale about him catching the commissioner and the mayor’s wife in the act? Or the official story as it had appeared in an NYPD statement and accurately had been reported in the news? Tough choice. But judging from what she’d seen of Chase Kingsley so far, she was inclined to go with the molestation story. The guy was simply bad news.

  “So what I want you to do is write a nice little piece, extolling Chase’s virtues, so to speak, and spread the rumor that his dismissal was a mistake.”

  “What mistake? Why would the NYPD fire a cop for no reason?”

  “I, um…” Her dad quickly glanced around, then said in hushed tones, “Let’s just say he saw certain things he wasn’t supposed to see.”

  “What things?” she insisted. She wanted this on the record, so she could use it in a story if she had to.

  He stared at her for a moment. “I keep forgetting what a tough reporter you are, honey. Is this the way you conduct all your interviews?”

  “Of course. I’m a professional, Dad.”

  “Right. Um…” He scratched his scalp, obviously torn.

  “I’ll tell you what I heard,” she said, feeling sorry for him. “I heard Chase caught the commissioner and the mayor’s wife making whoopee in his office. So to make sure nobody would believe him if he talked, they bribed this suspect’s wife to fabricate a story about him that got him fired. Am I close?”

  He stared at her. “My God, honey. You are good. Who told you?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve got my sources. The big question is: do you believe him?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “What if he’s lying? What if the story is true and he really assaulted that woman? And this whole story about the mayor’s wife is something he made up to protect his reputation and make sure he can work as a cop again?”

  Tex shook his white-haired head. “People don’t fool me that easily, honey. I’ve been treating patients for three decades. Trust me, by now I know if they’re lying or not. It’s called intuition, and after so many years I’ve got it in spades.” He stared at her. “You seem adamant to believe the worst about Chase, though. How come?”

  “We met this morning in Uncle Alec’s office and he took an instant dislike to me and I to him.”

  “You got off on the wrong foot, that’s all. Once you get to know him, you’ll see he’s a great guy. And, I’m sure, a very talented police officer.”

  “I just wish he would let me in on the murder investigation.”

  “What murder investigation is that?”

  “Haven’t you heard? Paulo Frey was murdered. They found his body yesterday out at the Writer’s Lodge.”

  “The writer that disappeared?”

  She nodded. “Dan asked me to write the story.”

  “And Chase doesn’t want you interfering with the investigation.”

  “Nope. He feels reporters have no place in a murder investigation.”

  “Well, I can certainly understand his aversion to reporters,” said Tex.

  “You mean because of that hatchet piece that appeared in the Post?”

  Her father nodded sagely, and gave her a grim smile. “He probably feels that that article sealed the deal on his career. Made him persona non grata.”

  Her dad had a point. Chase would have an ax to grind with reporters. Unless the assault charges were true. In that case he simply didn’t want reporters snooping around and discovering other dark secrets from his past.

  “I don’t know, Dad,” she said, shaking her head.

  “You won’t spread the story that Chase was framed?”

  “I don’t see how I can. Not unless I know for sure.”

  He sighed. “Fair enough. Always check your sources, huh?”

  “Exactly. Imagine I spread the story that Chase is innocent, and it turns out he’s been playing us for a fool. That would ruin my reputation.”

  “Like I said, honey,” said her father, straightening. He fixed her with a kindly look. “After all these years, nobody takes me for a fool. Trust me. But if you feel you can’t do this in good conscience, then simply don’t.”

  “You know what? I’ll do a little digging. See if I can’t find someone to corroborate Chase’s story. If the commissioner and the mayor’s wife are having an affair, I’m sure Chase isn’t the only one who knows about it.”

  He gave her a warm smile. “You do that, and I trust that you will uncover the truth, like you always do. In the meantime… I hope this business between you and Chase won’t cause any awkwardness over dinner tonight?”

  “I’ll behave,” she promised him. “Though I can’t vouch for Chase. The guy seems to hate me.”

  “He doesn’t hate you, honey,” her father assured her. “He’s simply bitter and lashing out, that’s all. Once you break bread together all will be fine.”

  Somehow Odelia doubted that.

  Chapter 12

  Odelia’s next stop was the expansive villa of famous movie star Gabby Cleret. And as she drove there in her old Ford pickup, the one she’d bought with her first salary, she couldn’t help musing on her recent talk with her dad. If it was really true that Chase had been wrongfully accused of a crime it wasn’t enough to spread the rumor around town. He needed to be officially exonerated. Get a chance to get his job back and get an apology from the commissioner. If—and it was a big if, she had to admit—he was right, and she found proof of this so-called affair, she wasn’t going to limit herself to simply spreading a few rumors. She was going to expose the commissioner.

  The longer she thought about it, the more she became convinced that perhaps there was truth to the story. She had the highest respect for both her father and Uncle Alec, and knew both of them to be excellent judges of character. If they both trusted Chase, maybe he was telling the truth after all. Which meant he’d been the victim of a terrible crime, and justice had to be done. She’d always abhorred injustice, and now started to see her story taking a completely different direction. Instead of exposing Chase, perhaps she needed to expose the ones who’d got him kicked off the force?

  She arrived at the oceanfront property of Gabby Cleret, just outside of Hampton Cove, located on one of those pieces of prime real estate that had long ago been snapped up by the more wealthy residents of the Hamptons.

  Like Chase, Gabby had moved to Hampton Cove in a bid to escape the fallout of a scandal that had cost her her career. The details were a little fuzzy, but she seemed to remember she’d starred in a remake of Raiders of the Lost Ark, only with a female lead this time to take over Harrison Ford’s iconic role. It hadn’t gone down well with fanboys the world over, who’d viciously attacked both her and the picture, and had managed to destroy them both.

  Apparently so-called fans hadn’t taken too kindly to their favorite movie being recast with a woman this time, and had been quite vocal about it, bombarding the movie and its star with all manner of vile abuse, with Gabby bearing the brunt of the attack. The actress had taken it badly, especially after the movie had tanked spectacularly, and had lost the studio millions of dollars, causing her career to stall. She hadn’t made another movie since, hiding from the storm out here in the Hamptons, and licking her wounds.

  Odelia had met Gabby once, and had even interviewed her for the Hampton Cove Gazette. They’d gotten along great, and Odelia hoped she’d remember her and would be willing to talk about the Paulo Frey business.

  Ten minutes after she’d rung the bell, she was sipping from a cup of tea out on the
deck, while Gabby sniffed from a bouquet of roses a fan and admirer had apparently left on the porch. They were looking out across the pool area, which was now covered with a tarp, and the ocean beyond.

  “Nice place you got here, Gabby,” she said appreciatively.

  “Yeah, it’s my own little piece of paradise,” Gabby confirmed with a tired smile. She looked a little under the weather, Odelia thought, and more subdued than the boisterous woman she remembered, both from the movie and her personal experience when they’d spent a fun afternoon together.

  Gabby Cleret was an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, with an expressive face and long black hair that she’d pulled up high into a bun. A long, loose-fitting robe hid her cuddly figure. She wasn’t one of those skinny stars, and had never made excuses for her more womanly curves. It was one more reason the fanboys had singled her out for abuse, as apparently a woman wasn’t allowed to have curves and had to look like a stick figure.

  “I actually came here to ask you about Paulo Frey,” Odelia finally said.

  She saw how Gabby visibly stiffened. “What about him?” she asked, her smile quickly evaporating.

  “Well, I don’t know if anyone told you this, but his body was found yesterday, buried out at the Writer’s Lodge. He was murdered.”

  Gabby’s eyebrows shot up. “Murdered? Are you sure?”

  “Looks like. I’m doing a piece for the Gazette, and I was talking to Aissa Spring just now, who told me you had some kind of run-in with the guy?”

  Gabby nodded, gazing out across the ocean for a moment, then fixing her dark eyes back on Odelia. “He was a mean man, Odelia. A real mean man.”

  “I gathered that from Aissa’s story.”

  “He tried to destroy her restaurant, just because she was a woman in love with another woman. He tried to destroy me, because I was a woman playing a man’s part, and because I was too ugly to be in movies, as he put it.”

  “Too ugly? He said that?”

  “He didn’t say it, but he wrote it, in a bombardment of tweets aimed at me, enthusiastically retweeted by his posse of followers. It turned into this toxic thing,” she said, shaking her head, “and caused the story to move away from the movie to my personal appearance.” She sniffed one of the roses again, and seemed to take comfort in the sweet fragrance.