PAWtners in Crime (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 10)

by Patricia Fry

  “Rochelle taught me how to use hypnosis on myself. And last night, after…what happened…I used the tools she taught me. You see, when I saw Michael with that bat last night, it began to shake something loose in my memory. I couldn’t go to sleep, so I tried self-hypnosis. I think I know who was here last night.”

  “Oh?” Savannah said.

  “Who was it, Artie?”

  Before he could respond, Savannah said, “Oops, excuse me,” as she slipped her phone out of her pocket. She walked to the other end of the porch while answering. “Hi Craig.”

  “Hi, how’s everyone this morning? Did Michael get in touch with the security people? I’d sure like to see you better protected out there.”

  “He was going to call from the office. Uh, Craig, what did you find out?” she asked.

  “Your visitor last night was none other than Charles Peyton.”

  “Really?” she said.

  “The car was one that had been stored at the mansion.”

  “He still has access to all his toys?” she asked, surprised.

  “It may take a while to sort out what actually belongs to him—what were gifts, perhaps, and what belongs to the estate. I think he still has access to the mansion, but that won’t be for long. He’ll be living in an even larger home soon, if I have my way.”

  “So what makes you think it was him?”

  “The DNA your cats scraped up tell the whole story. It was Charles Peyton in the flesh, so to speak—or what flesh was left...”

  “Almost funny, Craig.” She paused. “So what now?”

  “There’s a warrant for his arrest. I want a formal statement from you—what was said, what exactly happened and in what sequence—all of it.”

  “Shall I come downtown, or do you want to come out here?” She hesitated, then said enticingly, “I made lemonade and Ruth made some peanut butter cookies…”

  “You know how to tempt a guy, don’t you? Okay if I come over now?”

  “Yes, that would be fine.”

  “Is Arthur there?”

  “Yes, he was just going to tell us about something that happened to him last night—something he remembered.”

  Craig was quiet. “Ask him if he’ll wait until I get there to reveal his secret, would you?”

  “Sure, I’ll try.”

  When Savannah told Arthur that Craig was on his way, the boy decided to take a shower and put on clean clothes. He was just finishing his turkey and Swiss sandwich when Craig drove up.

  “Where are the cookies?” Craig asked.

  “Coming right up,” Ruth said, laughing. “Lemonade?” she offered. “Savannah is putting Lily to bed. She’ll be right here.”

  “Sure, lemonade sounds good.” Craig approached Arthur. “How’s it going, guy?” He shook the boy’s hand. “I hear you have something you want to talk about.”

  Arthur nodded.

  “The angel is sleeping,” Savannah announced when she returned to the porch. She watched as Ruth carried out a plate of cookies and set them on the table. “So what happened, Arthur?” she asked solemnly.

  “You know I told you that something has been nagging at me. I just couldn’t remember what it was, until I saw Michael with that baseball bat last night.” He spoke quietly. “I used to have one like it. I had two, actually. I kept one in my room at Mrs. Peyton-Smith’s cabin. I’d forgotten about it.” He looked around at the others, who were all listening intently. “Well, when seeing the bat last night, I felt…sort of upset inside. I got shaky and all stressed-out. After everyone left and we went back to bed, I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to try a hypnosis thing Ms. Rochelle had taught me.” He made eye contact briefly with everyone. “She told me if I ever felt overwhelmed or stressed, I could use this tool to find out why or to just become more relaxed. So last night I tried it and,” he paused, “I remembered something.”

  “You remembered something? About the night of the fire?” Craig asked.

  Arthur nodded.

  “Remember I told you that after I escaped from my bedroom window that night, I couldn’t find Mrs. Peyton-Smith, and I went back inside looking for her? I was afraid she had been caught in the fire. I called and called for her. No one answered. I was about to run out of the house again when I saw someone coming toward me. There was a ribbon of smoke between us, so I couldn’t see who it was. I called out, thinking it was Mrs. Peyton-Smith, ‘Grandmother Smith, you need to get out. The house is on fire!’ When the swirl of smoke faded, I could see it was not Mrs. Smith, but Mr. Peyton—Charles L. Peyton,” he said slowly. “…my mother’s husband. He was walking toward me carrying my baseball bat.”

  “My God,” Ruth said, covering her mouth with one hand.

  Arthur took an uneven breath. “I finally remembered what happened and I think I know why I suppressed it.” He choked up when he said, “It was just too painful to remember.”

  “What did he do?” Craig asked, gently.

  “He said, ‘Sorry kid, but you don’t fit into my plans.’ He raised the bat over his head. I turned and tried to run, but he hit me with it and I don’t remember anything that happened after that until I woke up in the ambulance.”

  Craig gritted his teeth. “That dirty…” He looked at Arthur and asked, “Do you remember anything else? Anything at all?”

  Arthur thought about the question for a moment, then said quietly, “Yes…something came back to me during the hypnosis.” He shook his head. “I don’t know quite what it was, but I think it was a watch or maybe a cufflink. That might be what it was. I saw something shiny sort of fly through the air just before I was hit. It caught my eye and I saw it hit the floor.” He narrowed his eyes, then said, “No, I heard it hit the floor.” He looked around at everyone. “That’s it. I don’t know how significant it is—or if they found something like that in the rubble…”

  “Could still be out there,” Craig said. “I don’t recall seeing anything like that in the evidence box or reading about something like that being found. I’ll make a call and see what I can learn, then we’ll get someone out there.” Craig’s energy level seemed to accelerate. “Son, I need you to draw a diagram of the house and show us right where you were when you were attacked. That shiny thing you saw could be the piece of evidence we need to hang the jerk.”

  ****

  The following afternoon, Craig called Arthur’s phone. “Got it, guy,” he said, “right where you said it would be. It’s a pocket watch with the initials CLP. Does that sound familiar?”

  “Wow! Yes. I remember him having a fancy pocket watch on a chain. He wore it with jeans as well as with his suits. I always thought the chain was a little flimsy. He must have caught it on something and it broke.”

  “Did you see him with it that night?”

  “I don’t recall. Things were a little crazy. But that must have been what I saw fly past me when I was running from him. I remember thinking he was throwing something at me.”

  “Thanks, son, you did good. I’ll be in touch.”

  After the call, Arthur found Koko lying on the sofa in the living room. He wrapped his arms around her and carried her up the stairs to his room, where the two of them stayed for the rest of the afternoon.

  Just after dinner, Craig called Arthur again. “Kid, how do you feel about coming down to the interrogation room and listening to what Peyton has to say?”

  Arthur’s eyes widened. “You arrested him?”

  “Yeah, we got the license plate number and put an APB out on him. They brought him in a little while ago. We’d like you to verify a few things. We’ll also be talking again to your mother and Pearl Peyton-Smith, but I think you’re our shortcut to the truth.”

  “When?”’

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now? I can come get you.”

  Arthur glanced at Savannah, who was finishing up in the kitchen and answered, “Just a minute, Detective.”

  When Savannah
saw him face her and grimace a little, she asked, “Arthur, what’s wrong?”

  That caught Ruth’s attention and she peered in his direction, as well.

  “Is it okay if I go with Detective Craig to listen to them interrogate Charles Peyton?” he asked.

  Ruth rushed to the boy. “Oh, Artie, is that something you want to do?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded. “I think it’s something I have to do, Ruthie.” He looked at both women and asked, “There’s no reason why I can’t go, is there?”

  Savannah looked at Ruth, who shook her head. She then said, “No, Arthur, no reason. I can take you down there, if you want.”

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Then the detective won’t have to come out here.”

  “Okay with you if I go out with Arthur?” Savannah asked Michael, as she slipped into a lightweight jacket. “The baby should sleep through the night.”

  “Out with Arthur?” he said, chuckling.

  “To the sheriff’s office—they’re interrogating Charles Peyton.”

  His demeanor became more somber. “Oh, so they caught him, did they?”

  “I guess so,” she said.

  Michael laid the newspaper in his lap and looked at her and then at Arthur. “Doesn’t sound like a very fun way to spend the evening. You two sure you want to do this?”

  Arthur nodded.

  “See you later, hon,” Savannah said, kissing Michael before she and Arthur stepped out the door.

  They arrived at the station twenty minutes later and were ushered into a room with a large window that looked into the interrogation room. When Arthur saw Charles Peyton through the glass, nasty red marks showing above the neckline of his jail garb and along one arm, he backed up a little so as not to be seen.

  “Don’t worry,” Craig said. “It’s one-way glass. He can’t see you or hear you in here, as long as you speak in a normal tone. Sit down and be comfortable, won’t you? I want you to listen carefully to what he says and let us know if there’s anything that might be a clue to his guilt…or innocence.”

  “He’s guilty as sin,” Arthur said. “I remember quite clearly now.”

  Craig looked at him for a moment. “Not everyone buys into hypnosis and temporary amnesia—things like that. We’ll probably bring in doctors and other professionals to speak with you, for validation, as far as the court’s concerned. Understand?” Craig asked. “It’s not that we don’t believe you—we do. Our bigger job is convincing the judge and jury of the validity of your memory.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I read in one of my law books about that sort of thing and how some people fake amnesia and make up things in hypnosis sessions.”

  “Yes, and the reason I have you here today, Arthur, is that I’d like to see this guy hang himself. You might be able to help us with that. He has agreed to talk to us without his attorney present, although he could change his mind at any time. He’s not in a very good state of mind right now, so we’re not sure what will happen—how cooperative he’ll be or how useful his statements will be.” He motioned for Arthur to move close to the window. “Savannah, you can sit with him. Sergeant Gonzalez will be here with you in case you want to counter or corroborate any of Peyton’s comments. Okay? Are you set?”

  Arthur nodded. “Let’s get on with it.”

  Craig grinned and winked at the boy and then disappeared, only to reappear on the other side of the one-way glass. “Would you state your name, please?” Craig said.

  “Charles Lamont Peyton.”

  “Address?”

  “No permanent address at this time,” he said sarcastically.

  After a few more test questions, Craig began asking more pertinent questions: “Were you present when your stepdaughter Karen Spence drowned?”

  “No. Absolutely not!” he said, shifting in his chair.

  “Did you commission, hire, or in any way arrange for her death?”

  “No!”

  “Were you present at your mother’s cabin the night it burned?”

  “No!”

  “Where were you that night?”

  “My wife and I were out of town. She was…we were despondent. The child was missing, for God’s sake and we needed to get away.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Uh, as I told authorities, to our home in the mountains.”

  “For how long? How long did you stay there?”

  “Three nights—two days.”

  “Did you drive back to your mother’s cabin either with or without your wife’s knowledge that weekend?”

  “No! Why would I do that?”

  Craig paused before asking, “Mr. Peyton, is it true that you did not like your wife’s children very much? You considered them a nuisance?”

  “Absolutely not! I loved those children. I bought them everything they could ever want.”

  “With your wife’s money?” Craig continued, “Arthur…you remember who Arthur is, right? Your stepson? He was under the impression that you didn’t like him very much.”

  “He’s crazy. He’s never liked me. I tried to get along with him, but he’s always been insolent—jealous of my relationship with his mother. He’s a mama’s boy—always has been. He’s been out to get me from the beginning.”

  “Is that why you knocked him out and left him in a burning house when he was a mere ten years old?”

  “I did not put a hand on that boy, ever. He’s lying if he says I did.”

  Meanwhile on the other side of the mirror-window, Arthur said, quietly, “He did too strike us. With the pony crop, with his hand... That’s why Mother had Karen and me stay mostly in our quarters.” He turned to Ramon Gonzalez. “So that’s lie number one.”

  Charles Peyton continued is dialog. “As you’ll discover when you do your investigation, I wasn’t anywhere near Mother’s cabin that night. I did not hit him with anything. I didn’t see him that weekend until he was in the burn center.”

  “You went to the burn center to see him?” Craig asked.

  “Yes. He was wearing those stupid polka dot pajamas.” He looked up at Craig. “What ten-year-old boy wears red-and-white polka dot pajamas? He was always a bit off, if you ask me—maybe even gay.”

  One side of Arthur’s lips curled upward a little. He took a deep breath and then exhaled. “That…lunatic,” he said between gritted teeth. He stood and motioned rather dramatically. “That makes the case right there.”

  “What does?” Savannah asked quietly.

  He glanced at her, then addressed Sergeant Gonzalez. “Those were not my pajamas. Mine were dirty and Mr. Peyton’s mother didn’t want to do laundry, so she dug those red-and-white things out of her drawer and made me wear them that night. How else would Charles Peyton know about those pajamas unless he was there when the house burned?”

  Gonzalez asked, “Did he visit you in the burn center?”

  “Possibly, but I doubt it. I do know, however, that there was nothing left of those pajamas by the time they got me out of the fire. They must have taken them off me that night before putting me into the ambulance, because I was aware that they had wrapped me in some sort of gauze. I’m sure the paramedics can corroborate that,” he said.

  Savannah and Arthur listened to a little more testimony and then Ramon Gonzalez excused himself. He rapped on the interrogation-room door and poked his head in, asking Craig to join him in the hall. When Gonzalez returned, he said to Arthur, “Detective Sledge will wind this up and then he wants to talk to you. Okay?”

  Arthur nodded.

  “Coffee? Water?” he offered.

  “Water, please,” Arthur said.

  Savannah nodded.

  When Craig appeared, he asked Arthur, “So what do we have?”

  “Those pajamas…” he said. “Detective Craig, there’s no way he would have known I was wearing those stupid things unless he’d been there that night. He’s lying. He must have left my mother in the mountains overnight and slipped out to…”r />
  “But why would your mother try to have Pearl killed?” Savannah asked. “If she was in the clear—if she had no part in this—why put the hit on Pearl?”

  “That’s a good question,” Craig said, rubbing his chin, “and one I’ve pondered.” He turned to Arthur. “Do you know why?”

  Arthur was quiet. “I really hate to think about it. I mean, it’s the pits to know that you were not wanted or cared for as a child. Do you know what I mean?” He looked from Craig to Savannah, tears starting to well in his eyes. “I guess they could have been in this together. Maybe my mother didn’t know that her husband had doubled back to make sure I would die. Or maybe she was there, too, with him. I remember that she came to my side fairly quickly.” His face brightened. “She was in the ambulance that took me to the hospital!” he exclaimed.

  “But why, Arthur? Do you know why they would want you…out of the picture?” Craig asked.

  “Well, my mother was set for life, so she had no financial reason. Anyway, she is the one who saved me and protected me, right? She had many opportunities to kill me over the last seven years and she didn’t.”

  “From the sounds of it, she didn’t exactly nurture you, either,” Savannah pointed out.

  Arthur nodded. “But now as for her husband—Mr. Peyton,” he said disrespectfully, “I’ve been thinking about it and I believe I can explain his motives. As you may recall, there’s a clause in the will that if there are no heirs, all the money goes to certain cat organizations.” He looked at Craig. “My father supported many cat organizations before he died.”

  “Yes?” Craig said, looking puzzled.

  “Well, Mr. Peyton is a major player in most of those organizations. So he would be able to get his hands on that money—or at least that was his belief.”

  “Really?” Savannah said.

  “Yeah, did you actually think he cared about cats? No, he didn’t like cats. It was all a ruse to get his hands on my father’s money. He may have planned to kill my mother, too.”

  Craig rubbed his chin. “Well, it looks like he’ll be going to jail for at least two counts of attempted murder and the cat organizations will have to operate without him.”