Moggies, Magic and Murder

by Pearl Goodfellow

  I looked at David. “Why was that? Why wasn’t Kramp on remand in Steeltrap, where all other offenders awaiting trial are? How did he manage a cushy stay at GIPPD jail?”

  “You do know Kramp’s closest connections, right?” the chief asked raising one eyebrow.

  “Shields.”

  “Yup. Did Kramp have any visitors that stood out?” David asked Eve. “Anything that you noticed as unusual? Any arguments, for example?”

  Eve shook her head. “Not that I remember, boss,” she confessed. “I mean, that Shields dude was around quite often, but I never overheard anything they discussed.” She looked at David, and murmured “Sorry, sir.”

  “Don’t be. What about Zinnie? How many times did she make an appearance?”

  Again, Eve produced a handwritten document. “Zinnie visited daily, while Kramp was here. Except …for the last two days. She didn’t show up at all for the last couple of days Barnabus was here.”

  David and I exchanged a look.

  “So, tell us about Kramp’s medication. You were aware he was taking pills for his heart condition?” David looked up from his scribbling.

  “I was, chief, yes,” Eve said, opening her file folder. She pulled a slip of paper out and read. “Digitaling, no, sorry, Digitalin. A band of drugs used to treat heart disease by regulating heart rhythm. I was told by Spinefield that Kramp was permitted to oversee his own dosage of the drugs, sir.”

  David nodded. “Another perk of being the governor’s friend,” the chief said, looking at me. “Kramp wasn’t seen as a suicide threat, either. I mean, he knew he was going to get off lightly, and he had everything to live for, so Barnabus’ doctor gave us the go ahead for Kramp to be responsible for his own dosing of meds.”

  “I spoke to his doctor personally,” Eve said. “I just wanted to be sure, really. Anyway, I have his number here …. Uh, it’s…” She rifled through her notes. “Here it is. Dr. Fitzcull. He’s been Kramp’s physician since the lawyer was a boy. The doc gave me the prescription details of the digi … stuff, and also the prescribed dosage.”

  “And, did you ever check Kramp’s medication levels? In the bottle, I mean? Did it look like he was taking the correct prescribed amount?”

  “I did, yes. I don’t want anyone dying on my watch,” Eve said. “Kramp was to take two tablets twice a day. I made sure he took them at the right time. But, sorry, no, I didn’t check the number of pills left in the bottle. I didn’t even think about it, to be honest. Are you saying that Kramp’s medication to treat his heart condition could actually have caused a heart attack?”

  “Did you notice if Kramp was displaying any symptoms of heart discomfort?” I asked, ignoring Eve’s question.

  “According to Dr. Fitzcull, Kramp suffered from bouts of indigestion. Which, I guess, isn’t a great condition to experience when the other ailment you’re afflicted with pretty much produces the same symptoms. Barnabus often clutched at his chest with the pain of reflux. Or, at least that’s what he told me it was, and I didn’t even consider anything otherwise, given what his doctor said.”

  “Did he have any meds for indigestion?” David asked.

  “No. It wasn’t chronic indigestion. It was brought on by stress, mostly, according to both Kramp and his physician. But, it looked uncomfortable, so… I ...gave him some tea that I found,” Eve’s cheeks flushed in a brilliant red hue.

  “Eve?” David said.

  “I’m s-sorry, chief. I knew that Hattie had been sending you home with an assortment of teas for indigestion … I hope you’re feeling better, by the way. Anyway, you, uh, left a few tea bags in your outbox on your desk. A couple of ginger, and a handful of licorice. I didn’t think you’d miss them, and I knew that ginger and licorice are good for stomach upset and indigestion,” Fernacre confessed.

  I laughed, and lay my hand on Eve’s shoulder. “Well, at least you have faith in my cures,” I joked, giving the chief a playful warning look. “Good to know that you have an interest in plant remedies. I suppose you knew already that Digitalin’s common name is ‘Foxglove?’”

  “Foxglove?” Eve shook her head and tidied her papers. “No, I’ve not heard of that. Cool name, though,” she smiled.

  A faint whisper of something stirred at the front of my skull. A thread-like recognition or something ... but the feeling was too fleeting to grab onto and inspect further.

  David smiled. “Did it help?”

  Eve looked taken aback. “Help, chief?”

  “Did Hattie’s teas help Barney’s indigestion?”

  “Ah, yes, I think it did. He often settled down after drinking one of Hattie’s brews.” Eve smiled at me.

  David’s eyes found me. “Hattie, I think I’m done here, do you have any further questions for Eve?”

  I held up my hands and let out a breath. “That’s it from me. Thanks so much for taking the time to talk with us, Eve.” I squeezed her shoulder. “You did an excellent job with the note taking, very helpful.”

  “Aw, thanks, Hattie,” she beamed, and stood up, tucking the folder of papers under her arm. “If you guys need to ask any further questions, don’t forget I have everything in here,” she tapped the file with her free hand. “I’ll be happy to help out.” The chief’s assistant left the room just as Spinefield walked in.

  “Sir, sorry, sir, but, Maude Dulgrey, the coroner that is, asked me to give this to you straight away. She said you’d want to ‘rest easy.’” He handed over a slip of paper to the chief. David scanned the note and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Thank you, Spinefield, appreciated.”

  The desk sergeant nodded and left the room.

  “Maude’s second report,” David said. “She still maintains Kramp had multiple heart attacks.”

  “It’s definitely looking like he died of natural causes, huh?”

  “Yup. But, we still need to confirm with his physician about the remainder of Kramp’s meds. To make sure he didn't overdose. And, anyway, we still have an attempted murder case. Maybe we don’t have to work on this so hard, so we can focus more on the Unseelie … or, Warlock, whatever, ‘problem.’”

  “If he did overdose, then I’d say it wasn’t on purpose. Probably just got a few nasty bouts of indigestion and quaffed his pills like they were smarties, thinking it was his heart playing up.” I sighed. “Okay, so what now?”

  “Well, I guess we can talk about what needs doing?”

  “Sure, so…” I squinted my eyes and began going through what we needed to do, who we needed to talk to et cetera. “Well, presuming Orville already has it, we need to find out what’s in the core of that gadget,” I began.

  “Yep,” David agreed. “We also have to find out why Zinnie and Ulrich decided to keep the fact that they’re siblings from us.”

  “Plus, why Zinnie didn’t show up for the last two days of Kramp’s stay here.”

  “Right.”

  “What about Typhon Jyldrar?”

  David ran a hand absentmindedly through his white streak of hair. “Yep, Typhon too. We don’t know the first thing about this character, so I guess it’s time we found out some of his history.”

  “Oh, and we’ll need to get to North Illwind at some point,” I said. “To find out more about Kramp’s secret love and love child.”

  “I’ll call Barnabus’ doctor tomorrow too. Find out how many pills should be left in that bottle. Shouldn’t be a problem, the doc’ll have the prescription-fill date, so we can work back from there.”

  “You have the pills in evidence room?”

  David gave me an affirmative nod.

  “The bell too,” the chief said. “We haven’t been there to see how Artemus and Carpathia are getting on since they started work.”

  “I know. And, I feel bad, but it’s not exactly like we’ve been lying around watching movies, David,” I said.

  The chief grunted.

  “Plus, you have a Custodian’s meeting coming up,” I offered. David’s eyebrows raised in question. I shrug
ged and pretended to be indifferent. “Portia said that you guys need to meet … to talk about the bell and everything.” I was intentionally vague. Childish and jealous, Hattie.

  “Well, it’s getting late now,” David looked at the clock hanging above his desk. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he huffed, reaching up to tap the defunct time piece with an irritated finger.

  I smiled. “I guess you’re just timeless, chief.”

  “Outdated, more like,” he joked. “Okay, well, let’s wrap this up for the evening. I’m exhausted, and I know you’ll be happier than anyone if you know I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep.”

  “True, Trew,” I said, standing. “Start at the bell in the morning? Get the easy ‘housekeeping’ tasks out of the way with first?”

  “Works for me,” David said. “I’ll have my men find Jyldrar in the meantime, and I’ll have Jyldrar brought in for questioning. Hopefully, Typhon will be waiting for us by the time we’ve got through the mundane stuff. I’ll text you in the morning and meet you at St. Pens,” he said, standing. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

  CHAPTER 11

  I climbed Saint Pendragon’s mount with four of my moggies in tow. The hill up to the church proper was indecently steep, and I didn’t enjoy the way my thigh muscles shook as I ascended.

  “...yeah, so she’s got over ten thousand followers already,” Shade chirped from near my ankle. My Romeo cat regaled stories of his girlfriend’s Instagram account as he moseyed up the hill beside me. I tried to act interested, but I had a lot on my mind.

  “Yeah?” I mused absently.

  “Yeah, totally!” Shade burbled. “Her handle on Instagram is ‘Wild and Poofiful.’ She has over ten-thousand followers.” My Romeo cat beamed, happy to repeat Miss. Poof’s impressive numbers. He smirked and shook his head. “That’s my bae.” Shade’s girlfriend had apparently taken Instagram by storm with her W&P series. Shade assured me that the images were professional looking and very in touch with nature.

  “Is that right?” I said, hoping I sounded intrigued.

  “Yeah, Poof’s got, like, a jungle series, a desert series, and my favorite, the cottage garden series.” Shade held a paw to his heart and looked at me. “Seriously, boss, my shorty among the flowers? Her face framed in pink and white? Every cat’s dream,” he murmured breathily.

  “You’re one lucky guy,” I panted.

  “You know it, boss,” Shade said.

  A beaming Thaddeus Peacefield waited for us near the open doors of the church at the top of the hill. The Reverend extend his arms in open greeting.

  “Hattie, kitties, how wonderful you could come. I do believe there’s been a little bit of success this morning, already,” he enthused, bending down to give each of the cats a head rub. “Please, go right on up, find out the latest, and I’ll follow you right after with some hot cider, and warm cheddar scones,” he said, his welcoming vibe nearly knocking me over. The Reverend Peacefield is a beacon of goodness. I liked him tremendously, and my kitties adored him too. Being in Thaddeus’ company was one of only a handful of places where my timid kitty could relax. Fraidy gave the vicar full body rubs across the man’s shins as if to prove my theory, while my stomach growled at a ridiculously loud volume. Was it wrong that I was already hoping that the hard workers up in the bell tower wouldn’t be hungry, just so I could have two, maybe three of Thaddeus Peacefield’s fresh baked scones?

  “So undignified,” Gloom sniped. “What kind of animal signals their hunger with a loud and rampant gush of gastric juices? It’s gross.” My grumpy cat slinked off, apparently too disgusted to be within six feet of me and my gurgling tummy.

  “Actually, dear sister, all animals are prone to a gastric eruption once in a while,” Onyx opined, trotting after his sibling so he could further elucidate his sister on his revelation.

  “I wouldn’t classify it as an ‘eruption,’” I protested under my breath, as we made our way to the bell tower.

  “Don’t worry, boss,” Shade said, ambling beside me. “I think it sounded brave. A sound a big cat would make, and you know how cool our big bro's are,” he said, grinning at me.

  I smiled at my furry ally and played along. “What, you think it sounded like a panther roar?”

  “More like a Tiger belch, or a Lion fart.”

  “What the ...”

  Shade trotted off with a jaunty bounce, pleased he could boost my confidence levels with his flattering observations.

  When I reached the last step at the top of the bell tower, my thighs were no longer shaking. They were liquified.

  I collapsed against the inside wall of the tower and heaved in ragged breaths until I could finally greet my friends.

  “Artemus, Carpathia,” I huffed, wiping my brow with the sleeve of my jacket. “How’s it going? The Reverend says you’ve made some progress?” I gave each of my good friends a hug.

  “Darling, we have exposed an edge of the artifact, look!” Carpathia grabbed my arm and directed me toward the bell. I could see us both approaching in the polished brass of the bell itself. Carpathia, wrapped in her daytime wear of aloe soaked bandages, wide-brimmed hat, and sunglasses, warped and melted in the glint of the rolling metal.

  “See?” She pointed with a bandaged finger toward what looked like the edge of a piece of paper. I leaned in closer, but my view was blocked by three cat heads, each leaning in close to inspect the anomaly for themselves.

  “Guys, please,” I said, glaring at my detective kitties.

  “Oh, my Goddess,” Gloom said. “It looks like this is going to be lifted out of here soon, yeah?” She asked Artemus. Evidently, she was impressed with the progress.

  “Hopefully, kitty, yes,” Artemus said, crouching to Gloom’s level so he could rub her under the chin.

  “And, hopefully, it’s nothing more threatening than a W-w-warlock shopping list,” Fraidy chimed. I ignored his reverse fear mongering.

  “You guys have been amazing,” I said, rising to full height. “Seriously. I know you’ve been out here all hours trying to dig this thing out.” I turned to my vampire friend. “Carpathia, I also wanted to thank you for picking up the Warlock device at the station last night,” I said. “We’d have lost it to the halls of bureaucracy if you hadn’t have stepped in.”

  The vampire grinned, but I couldn’t make out her lips or teeth through the narrow slit of the bandages. Her mouth was a twitching black line. “It’s with Orville, now, sweetie,” she said. “Let’s see what our geeky super-teen makes of it, shall we?”

  I nodded. “Artemus, Gabrielle must feel like a widow these days, with you up here all the time?” My sometimes lab assistant looked tired.

  “Gabbie’s offensively understanding,” Artemus chuckled. “She’s been across every day after work with good, fresh food,” he said, patting his stomach.

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said. “You’re Gabrielle’s world and soul.”

  I meant it. Gabrielle and Artemus might only be a ‘recent item,’ but their love, respect, and friendship for one another were real. Theirs was one of the most solidly safe relationship’s I’d seen in my lifetime. If I had to pick which one of them was luckier, I’d have to say Artemus, but only because he was the one who got to sample Gabrielle’s fabulous baked goods, and homemade meals on a daily basis.

  Footsteps and the sound of laughter came from the stairs. I recognized David’s snigger. I don’t know why but something inside me felt lighter for hearing my friend’s good cheer. Thaddeus and David shared a joke as they stepped into the bell tower proper.

  I knelt down to show David what days of hard work from Carpathia and Artemus had uncovered. The chief pulled out a pen and carefully lifted the edge of the exposed paper. A paw shot out of nowhere, batting the pen out of David’s hands. My friend stood and peered down under the skirt of the bell. Two jet black eyes stared up at him.

  “I can see you, Shade,” David said, bending down to pick up the pen. A streak of black skidded under the chief’s hand, s
lapping the pen toward the bell where it smashed against its casing. The reverberating sound was surprisingly ‘acute.’

  Shade stepped out from the ringer’s skirt, wobbling, his eyes a little glassy. Gloom smiled at her handiwork.

  “From the earliest of times, cats have appreciated writing implements,” Onyx explained to everyone. “From the stone age rock chisels, to fountain pens, to electronic Stylo's, felines, because of their supreme intelligence level, when compared to the rest of the animal kingdom, have had the urge to write and study.”

  “Onyx, cats don’t have the urge to write, buddy. That’s just you. You’re talking about yourself,” David said.

  I shook my head. “Well, anyway, guys, you’ve done a remarkable job. Honestly,” I said to my companions.

  Thaddeus passed around the tray of scones and hot cider, and I acted surprised. Like I wasn’t expecting to be eating hot, buttered scones so early in the morning, and I took one from the plate like it was a complete novelty to me.

  In truth, I watched the tray like a hawk as the plate was passed around. Willing everyone to refuse Peacefield’s fare

  The team let me down.

  Every last hand reached for the proffered baked goods.

  Damn, now only one scone remained. How could I possibly angle for the last one?

  “So you’re going to see how young Orville’s getting on with the Warlock gadget?” Artemus asked, writing a Reveal charm on a piece of cream colored vellum. He dipped the thick paper in a brass bowl of emerald green liquid and then placed it, face down, on top of where the half uncovered artifact lay. He pasted it, using a unicorn-hair brush. “We’ll let that work its magic,” he said, standing up.

  “Artemus, you have … what is that, dirt?” I pointed to his pants, to where a thick black smudge stained the pale fabric.

  “What on earth is that?” Artemus said, brushing furiously at his pants while swiveling his head around to spot the object that had muddied his clean clothes.

  I saw Fraidy slinking, low profile, toward the cover of the bell.

  Weird.

  “How long do you think it’s gonna take?” CPI Trew asked, pointing to Artemus’ work.