Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

Cats!

  I wriggled out of yesterday’s outfit and reached behind me for a towel from the shelf. But instead of terry cloth, my hand touched something warm and furry.

  I turned to the furry loaf of bread on top of the towel stack. Shade smiled up at me. “Hey, boss, haven’t seen Midnight this morning yet. He still out and about?”

  “Yes, buddy, he’s gathering intel on Judge Moody.” I reached toward him. “Now, I need a dirty, fur-covered towel for after my shower, so can you please move, and exit the bathroom, and close the door behind you?”

  Shade shrugged, hopped off his toweling bed and moseyed out of the room.

  I jumped into the shower, tying up my hair in a loose pile on my head. I didn’t have time to tame the mane. Just a quick rinse, throw on some clean clothes and get moving. I nodded my head in appreciation for my hastily formed action plan.

  A black paw hooked itself around the shower curtain just as I was reaching for the loofah. Gloom peered at me from around the edge of the curtain.

  “I’m coming too,” she stated simply.

  “Goddess, alright!” I yelled, swiping water out of my eyes.

  “Lady, be careful,” Gloom hissed. “You’re getting me wet. Cats don’t like water in case you didn’t --”

  “For the love of Goddess, OUT! Now please!” I shouted again, yanking the shower curtain back into position.

  Gloom wiped a droplet covered cheek with a slow and steady paw. “I’m going to overlook this soaking,” she said, her voice menacing. “And as you seem so ready to antagonize my true feline nature, while thinking of nobody but yourself, I’ve decided I’m going to wait for you outside.”

  “Great, go.”

  “I mean it, I’m going, and I won’t be back.” She surveyed me with clear eyes. “You really need to work on earning a cat’s love. You’ve brought this upon yourself.”

  “Fabulous. Go now, please.”

  Mutter, mutter, mutter from my feisty feline as she ambled out the door.

  Eclipse and Gloom trotted ahead of me to greet the chief.

  I saw my friend bend down to give them both a cursory rub on their heads with his elbow.

  David strode toward me, a cup of coffee in each hand, a pastry dangling from his mouth. He pushed a steaming cup and a weighty paper bag toward me.

  “Gabrielle came through for you, huh?” I took a sip of the hot liquid, grateful for the deep bodied flavor. Gabrielle was a pro-baker, and Celestial Cakes served the best … well, the best everything, really. I looked in the bag and saw the cherry danish glistening like food from the Gods there.

  “You did well,” I applauded my friend.

  David nodded and took a bite of his own baked good.

  “Wait a minute, is that a hot dog?” I moved my face up to his, not really believing my eyes. A squirt of blended ketch-tard drooled over his bottom lip.

  David’s fingers expertly crammed the rest of the offensive street-food into his mouth and he nodded vigorously. The chief chewed like a crazed person.

  “Last night’s dinner that I didn’t get around to finishing,” he said around big congealed globules of synthetic bread and plastic sausage. “Didn’t want to waste it.” David dragged a napkin across his face and took a slug of his coffee.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, his expression genuinely perplexed.

  I shook my head. “What did you find?”

  David placed his hand on my lower back and steered me toward Prettykins window, and the demolition there.

  I saw the wreckage, and for at least a few seconds I couldn’t make sense of it.

  Then I gasped.

  “Barnabus Kramp’s transport?” I felt my legs give way a little.

  “Bombed,” David said, pushing me downhill a little to a patch of grass next to the road. A circle of bright yellow paint marked the lawn here. He pointed to the marked area with his crumpled napkin.

  “Here’s where the incendiary device ended up. It must have been flung from the vehicle when the blast occurred.” I looked down at the spot where the ominous grenade had lain.

  “The weapon’s at GIPPD now for analysis, of course. More than likely Talisman will send some suits to pick it up, and they’ll do their own set of tests.” David took another gulp of coffee. “But, gotta say, I’m hoping that Orville Nugget can take a look at it before Talisman does take it away,” CPI Trew confessed. “Looks like there might be a particular type of metal in the core of the device. Not sure, could be a pedestrian steel, but I’d rather Orville takes a look to tell us otherwise if that’s the case.”

  Orville Nugget, the son of the late (murdered) Aurel Nugget, was a fully-fledged member of the Custodians. The brilliantly awkward teen was the creator of the world’s most hi-tech cauldron: The Futura. The pricey cauldron could rid itself of Godmarsh toad slime with one quick wipe of a damp cloth. This amphibian residue was legendary for its ‘sticking’ qualities. Until the Futura, the cleaning regimen for Godmarsh slime had always traditionally been to burn, scrape, burn, scrape again at the stubborn residue. So the teen’s metallurgic merits were lauded the world over, and the seventeen-year-old was now working on the Futura 2. Nugget Junior was set to be a multi gajillionaire by the time he was twenty. Aurel Nugget would have been proud of his boy.

  “Bomb,” I mouthed the word as if it were a foreign delicacy I was trying for the first time. Even though I had uttered the word only yesterday.

  “Hat, you okay?”

  “Wow,” I said, holding my hands up to my cheeks in an emoji scream.

  “Take a minute.” His gorgeous blue eyes danced warily over me.

  “Is Kramp dead?” My voice was flat.

  “He is,” he said softly. “Miraculously, the driver had stopped to move a kid’s toy from the street. Random act of kindness. And timing apparently. If he had chosen to just drive around the toy, he’d be as dead as Kramp right now.” David leaned on the roof of his car.

  “Anyway, on first inspection, it looks like the bomb had been planted in the back of the vehicle. With Kramp. That’s where most of the damage happened.”

  “Did anyone see anything? Any body?” Asked Gloom. She sat beside Eclipse on the hood of David’s car.

  “That’s the next thing I was getting to,” David said, putting down his coffee cup on the car roof.

  “Remember that drifter arrested about a month ago? For loitering?”

  I shook my head, confused.

  “Yeah, you do, the scruffy homeless guy who Eve was trying to process that time? He was picked up for vagrancy. Right here, in fact.” David whirled and wriggled his fingers at the deep art-deco entrance way of Prettykins.

  “We had to let him go because the station was packed with reprobates that night. “I had advised him to steer clear of the shop-fronts and to find a quiet place out at the bluffs, remember?”

  “No, I don’t …”

  But then a fleeting image bounced to the front of my mind then. “Oh, wait, Typhon Gribblewauld or something like that?”

  “Typhon Jyldrar, but, yeah,” David said.

  It was coming back to me. It had been one of Eve Fernacre’s first nights working at GIPPD. She had been responsible for the intake of folk into the jail cells at the time. She still is, in fact, but I remembered Eve had been a little overwhelmed that particular night. The sheer number of petty offenders waiting to be processed had been insurmountable. Eve had asked David what she should do with this Typhon chap. The chief had suggested to Eve to let him go. The homeless man had carried no ID. And, I remembered now, he didn’t talk much. He had a tattoo. I thought it kind of looked like a tail of some terrifying, crouching animal. The tail crept up the drifter’s throat from underneath his clothes. The flash of the image was so fleeting though … it fell away before I could fully grasp it.

  I looked back at David.

  “He’s at the station now, anyway,” the chief said.

  “Have you questioned him yet?”

  “Nope. Had way too much
to do here,” he swung his arm in a wide arc across the crime scene. “Had to send Kramp’s body to Maude’s, the weapon to GIPPD for analysis, our buddy, the driver, to Howling Mercy to check for internal injuries, and … I wanted to wait for you anyway,” he finished, looking at his feet.

  I felt the thrill of his last comment, but I kept my face impassive.

  “So, this Typhon’s a suspect?”

  “He was here, right at the scene as the Broomedics and my guys showed up.”

  David passed a hand over his stubbly chin. “He didn’t resist either. Just kept staring at the crash site as my constable took him away. Said nothing. Weird, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “You didn’t find anything in his background check last time, right?”

  “Nada,” David confirmed. “No ID, remember? No print match, no records of any description when we plugged in the name he gave us. No relatives, no friends, nothing. Same again this time, so Spinefield tells me.” David’s desk-sergeant was thorough and fast when it came to background checks.

  “Sounds highly suspicious to me,” Eclipse opined. “I think we need to look at this guy closely. Make sure you ask him the right questions.”

  “Uh, yeah, thanks, cat, but it’s not my first rodeo,” David said, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

  My friend reached into the car, and from the passenger seat, he grabbed a paper bag. He rustled the package and pulled out a freshly-baked chocolate chip muffin.

  “Last night’s dessert?” I asked.

  David just looked at me, tore off the top of the muffin and shoved it in his mouth.

  I grimaced.

  My friend’s food habits of late were most unsavory. Said the woman who just scarfed a butter-rich sugary delight herself.

  “We’ll need to speak to Maude,” David said over a mouthful of batter and chocolate chips. “She hasn’t called me yet, but I’m sure we’ll be hearing from her today at some point. Find out the cause of death et cetera.”

  “Don’t mean to steal Maude’s glory, but I’m betting our coroner friend will tell us that Kramp was bombed to death,” Gloom said, looking at the chief as if he had two heads.

  I ignored Gloom’s snarky comment, and, pinning David with an accusing glare, I asked: “Have you slept yet?”

  “I’ll take a nap on the couch at the station later,” he mumbled.

  “Right.” I scanned the carnage one last time. “So, I suggest you grab a quick snooze, and we meet --” Chief Para Inspector Trew doubled over.

  “David!” I charged over to him, rolling up my sleeves as I went. Not sure what sleeve-rolling would accomplish, but …

  He stood up but continued to grip his stomach. A soft sheen of sweat broke out on his reddened face.

  “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said, reaching up with one hand to hold onto the roof of his car. “As I said, the junk food is killing me.” He offered a hesitant smile.

  What could I do here? How could I impress upon him to open up and tell me what was troubling him?

  Instead, I remembered my self-professed promise, and I kept my mouth shut. But, inside, I felt unnerved. To the core.

  I caught Gloom looking at me, raising her eyebrows in question. She could have uttered any number of disparaging remarks to the chief, but, instead, my sharp tongued kitty remained silent.

  Eclipse just stared at my friend, and the moment stretched into an awkward, fidgety silence.

  “Right, well, okay,” David said, his voice strained. “I’m going to follow your advice. I’ll take a nap, and call you after. Can you be ready to come to the station for the questioning of our drifter-friend?”

  I nodded, ushering my kitties from the car, as David took his place behind the wheel.

  “Give you guys a lift back?”

  “No!” Gloom, Eclipse and I shouted in concert.

  David chuckled. “Suit yourselves.” He buckled up. “Later, gators,” and with that, he drove away to catch some much-needed shut-eye on his GIPPD office couch.

  “Yeah, that dude is NOT okay,” Eclipse observed, trotting alongside me, as we made the trek back to the Angel.

  I whirled on my cat. “I know that, ‘Clipsy!”

  “I can tell,” he said wryly.

  “He’s a doofus, but he can look after himself. I suggest we stick to this case and let the chief work out his own issues,” Gloom said, not looking at any of us.

  Once again, I was going to take my grouchy cat at her word, and follow her recommendation. Because that’s what you do, right?

  You take the advice of your family pet.

  CHAPTER 4

  Millie had opened up The Angel by the time we returned from the crime scene. The cats had told her I’d gone to the blast site with David, and my thoughtful assistant had a cup of fennel tea ready for me when I returned. I shared what little info we had about the explosion, and the sinister grenade that was found on the side of the road.

  Jet was predictably exuberant about all the new news. “That’s, like, insane! Yep, sheesh.” He raced across the floor in zigzags. “I mean, Krampus had it coming, yep? But no need to ‘off’ the geezer, nope? I’m just happy the driver didn’t buy it too, yep gosh.”

  “Wh-who was it that did it?” Fraidy’s teeth chattered as he posed the question. “Unseelies again? W-w-warlocks?”

  “We don’t know yet, sweetie. Could have been just a regular hater of Kramp’s, we’ve no idea,” I replied. “We just have this Typhon Jyldrar character, who was on the scene before the emergency services showed up. Too early to say if he was involved, but I’m joining David for the questioning of our drifter later today.”

  My head cat, Onyx, hummed thoughtfully. “Were there any implications, any markers on the device, that might suggest it’s a Warlock weapon?”

  Shade’s head popped up beside his sage brother. “What does ‘implications’ mean? Bro, you’ve gotta cool it with the fancy words, know what I’m sayin’?” My Romeo cat pleaded. “Just talk regular, like.” Onyx shook his head and offered his brother a condescending pat on the head.

  “Tell us about the drifter, Typhon,” Carbon piped up. “What’s his story? Why is he in Gless Inlet? Where did he come from? Where’s he going? When did he show up? How long’s he staying?”

  Gloom plopped herself on Carbon’s head to have a quick wash, and to better deliver answers to her inquisitive brother. She ignored his muffled protests from under her rear. “We only know that nobody knows anything about Typhon Jyldrar right now. Will you please stop wriggling? I’m trying to wash here.”

  The door to The Angel announced a visitor. Our heads turned toward the sound of the tinkling bell, but it wasn’t a customer. Midnight was back.

  “Dudes, Dudettes,” he said, positively swaggering into the middle of the room.

  “Hi buddy. You have news?” I scooped up my cat and plopped him on the counter. Which was a mistake, because if there was one thing Middie loved more than a stage on the floor, it was a stage that looked down on the floor. Now he could gaze over his rapt audience like a loving thespian. Combing his two passions; gossip and theatrics, my cat paraded left and right, his tail curling in a self-proclaimed banner of brilliance and astounding importance.

  “Well, Moody’s clean,” he began. “He has no Warlock ties whatsoever. Apparently, he was as baffled by the verdict as we were. I think that’s why he left the court in a hurry. So, no dirt on the judge, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling the anti-climax of Midnight’s information settle into my shoulders.

  “But!” Midnight strutted left, taking exaggerated strides like a furry dressage horse. “I did find out something that you guys may want to know,” he teased.

  “Unless you want to fall off your stage and meet your grisly Shakespearean end, then I’d say get on with it,” Gloom quipped from atop poor Carbon’s head. I could see my heat-loving cat had given up the fight; other than his irate tail thumping the floor at slow, heavy intervals, his body remained still un
der Gloom’s posterior-prison.

  Midnight stopped in the middle of the counter and looked at each of us dramatically. He smiled, knowing that he had our attention. “You know Verdantia and Hinrika went to the Glimmer Mountains yesterday, yeah? To find the exact location of the Tiamat Stone?”

  “Yep, yep, Burning Peak,” Jet said.

  The rest of us nodded, urging Midnight to continue.

  “Well, turns out, there’s no way into the mountains. Burning Peak is cordoned off. Goons all over the place. Vee and Hinrika couldn’t even get close.”

  “Shields!” I stormed across to the counter to where my cell phone lay. I snatched it and began jabbing the screen.

  “Hattie, what are you doing?” Millie’s hand rested gently on my arm.

  “I’m calling David. He needs to know. This is an outrage!”

  A black paw pressed against my foot. Eclipse looked up at me.

  “I love to wake a human up, no matter the hour, you know that.” His face told the truth, and invoked a reverent chorus of ‘Amen to four a.m’ from his siblings.

  My memory-wiping cat continued. “But this is one human who needs his sleep right now. You saw how shaky the chief was at the blast site this morning?”

  My cat was right. I couldn’t drag David from his sliver of slumber. This news wasn’t exactly going anywhere. No urgent action need be taken. I just felt so livid, so frustrated with Gideon Shields’ latest crafty move.

  “I’d like to suggest we take this opportune moment to discuss this issue, while Chief Para Inspector Trew avails himself of a well-deserved catnap,” Onyx said.

  My sage cat got our attention.

  “Why would the Governor block off the area?” His voice was a little muffled, but Carbon had managed to get his mouth just outside the ‘hot-spot’ of Gloom’s derriere.

  “Exactly!” I nearly shouted, my impatience with the smarmy Governor mounting.

  “The Elder Code,” murmured Millie.

  We turned to her.

  “I mean, if we know about the Elder Code, then it stands to reason that Shields and his cronies do too, right?” Millie’s Unicorn mane glimmered under the shop lights.