The Tail of the Tip-Off

by Rita Mae Brown

  “He didn’t run away. He’s out cold on the stairs.” Harry spoke firmly.

  BoomBoom remained ready to fight, her fists clenched.

  The sirens drew closer. Matthew assumed, as did many men, that a woman wouldn’t really hurt him. He had to get out of there. If he could reach his car, he had a chance to escape.

  He lowered his voice, a false warmth infusing his words. “It looks bad for me. I know. But I’m innocent. I need to call my lawyer. If you’ll just let me go, I’ll—” He took another step toward Harry.

  “Matthew, stop.” She didn’t budge.

  Then he leapt toward her.

  She fired once. He dropped like a stone.

  Blood spurted from his knee for she’d blown out his kneecap. Writhing, screaming, he slithered on the floor like a fish out of water.

  “Should I tear out his throat?” Tucker bared her fangs.

  “No. He’s out of commission,” Mrs. Murphy advised.

  “I’d kind of like to.” Tucker’s eyes sparkled.

  “You could lick up all that fresh blood.” Pewter giggled, which sounded like “kickle, kickle.”

  “Gross out the humans. You know how they are.” Murphy would have gladly killed Matthew herself.

  Harry kept the gun trained on Matthew. His screams of agony pleased her. He or Fred or both had snuffed out the lives of two people, tried to pin the blame on an innocent widow, and would have killed Harry and BoomBoom to boot.

  Let him scream his head off, Harry thought to herself. He’s lucky I took out his knee and not his heart, if he has one.

  “Harry.” BoomBoom didn’t get a response so she raised her voice. “Harry!”

  “Huh? Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I was about to ask the same thing of you.” She shouted over Matthew’s howls and the fire alarm.

  The sirens sounded as though they were right outside. Within seconds Sheriff Shaw, Deputy Cooper, and the fire chief, Dodson Hawley, burst through the doors followed by firemen.

  The clanging stopped as Hawley cut off the alarm.

  “Here!” BoomBoom hollered above Matthew’s screams.

  Cooper ran toward them.

  “There’s no fire.” Harry handed Cooper the gun when she reached her. “Fred Forrest is on the landing and needs attention. He’s in on this.” She pointed to the stairwell. “And this sorry son of a bitch is lucky to be alive. I hope he’s tried and fried.”

  “Yeah!” the three animals concurred.

  As Rick came up, Cooper said, “Fred’s on the stairwell.”

  Rick’s footsteps could be heard descending the stairwell.

  BoomBoom, suddenly exhausted, leaned against the wall.

  Harry knelt down to pet her animals. She, too, felt as though someone had pulled the drain plug. Her energy was ebbing away.

  “Boom?” Cooper’s eyebrows shot upward.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Boom, I was wrong about you.” Harry stood up. “Forgive me.”

  BoomBoom smiled, too tired or too overwhelmed to respond. She held up her left hand, palm outward, a sign of acceptance.

  “Can you two give a statement now? How about if I have someone fetch you a coffee or a Coke?” Cooper asked, ignoring the commotion around them.

  “Tuna!” Pewter resolutely requested.

  Harry glanced down at her gray cat. “These guys fought as hard as we did.”

  “I’ll order a ham sandwich for each of them.” Cooper smiled.

  The ambulance crew arrived.

  Harry, oblivious to the chaos around her, followed Cooper back to the main entrance, a little bit away from the gurneys being rolled in. BoomBoom, Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker followed also.

  “We can tell you what happened,” BoomBoom said, “but we don’t know why it happened. Harry, what on earth were you thinking, going back to the Clam, knowing Matthew was going to follow you?”

  “I don’t know. I had to get to the bottom of it. I was pretty stupid to be unarmed. Really stupid.” Harry inhaled, then touched Cooper’s arm. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Think I do,” Cooper tersely replied above Matthew’s screams of pain and innocence.

  * * *

  52

  The ham sandwiches and coffee appeared within fifteen minutes. Cooper used up all her quarters in the vending machines to purchase the indifferent fare.

  “I promise better food tomorrow.” She smiled as she slid the blister-wrapped sandwiches across the table to the humans and animals.

  She’d shepherded them into an office. With the door closed, it was almost quiet.

  “If you don’t want your ham, I’ll eat it,” Tucker helpfully offered.

  “Why wouldn’t I want the ham?” Pewter tilted her head sideways, staring at the dog.

  “You said you wanted tuna.”

  “Nice try.” Murphy laughed as she bit into the ham, which tasted better than Matthew’s hand or leg.

  As Harry and BoomBoom began to breathe normally, Cooper took out her notebook, flipped open the top cover.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  She listened carefully, jotting down notes. When the two had completed their statements and she’d asked a few questions, she flipped the book closed.

  Harry, somewhat restored by the sandwich and coffee, pleaded, “Can you tell us what’s going on? Now that we’ve made our statements?”

  “I can try.” Cooper slipped the notebook back in her chest pocket. “Matthew Crickenberger knew we were closing in. Anne was under our protection. She was a suspect initially but once we realized she was in danger, we kept someone with her. Matthew knew that. But Harry, you were the one—you pushed him over the edge.”

  “When I pelted him with the pea! The noisemaker!” Harry tapped the table with her forefinger.

  BoomBoom’s eyes widened. “I still don’t get it.”

  Cooper sipped her coffee for a moment. “H.H. was furious at continually being in Matthew’s jet stream, so to speak, and figured out their scam. I’ll tell you about that later. He put in months of patient research, visiting old and new projects Matthew had built. H.H. was determined to find something, and he found more than he bargained for. We think he confided in Mychelle—and clearly Matthew thought that as well—but we don’t know that for a fact. I would think Mychelle would have come directly to us after H.H.’s death and tell us H.H. was blackmailing Matthew. I don’t know, but”—Cooper shrugged—“people are often afraid of us. Of course H.H.’s death looked like a heart attack. When Rick gave a statement to the press that H.H.’s death was suspicious, Mychelle must have known why H.H. was killed. If she had any doubts about his demise she should have seen the handwriting on the wall. We don’t know if she contacted Matthew. After all, it could have been worth money. We still don’t know why Mychelle withdrew five thousand dollars from her bank account. Was she going to run away? But Matthew either had hard evidence that Mychelle knew what he was doing or he didn’t want to risk that she knew. Her hesitation cost Mychelle her life and could well have cost Tazio hers once word got around that Mychelle wanted to see Tazio that Monday. I think Tazio would have been the next victim if you hadn’t triggered Matthew. He was losing his composure. The manner in which he killed Mychelle suggests that.”

  “But what’s Fred got to do with all this?” Harry was exasperated.

  “You think he killed Mychelle?” BoomBoom asked Harry.

  “No. That’s what set him off,” Harry replied. “Am I right?” she asked Cooper.

  “Terrified. He was absolutely terrified.” Cooper reached for her cigarette pack in her other pocket. “We don’t know if he approved the murder of H.H. or not. He’s in intensive care and it might be days before the brain swelling subsides. Fred is in a medical coma, if that’s the term. Fred didn’t want to go to jail any more than Matthew but when Mychelle was stabbed to death, dying alone the way she did, Fred realized that Matthew would stop at nothing. Matthew lured her to the Clam. How, we don’t know. Fred must
have believed he could neutralize Mychelle without hurting her. Matthew was taking no chances. Killing Mychelle really did set off Fred. He truly liked her. And he knew if he faltered, Matthew would kill him. As I said, Matthew was losing his composure.”

  “But wait a minute, what’s with Fred and Matthew? I’m missing something here. What was the scam?” Harry stroked Murphy, now in her lap.

  “A clever, clever deal. I’ve got to hand it to them. Fred passed substandard materials and construction that was under code. Matthew’s crews were illiterate. Not only could they not read, they didn’t know what the building codes were. They didn’t have to know, that was Matthew’s job. Fred would even pick up a few empty cartons of high-grade materials that had been tossed at other building sites, dumping them at Matthew’s sites when no one was around. Or he thought no one was around. Matthew would purchase some good stuff to put out where everyone could see it. You know, a few rolls of R-20 for insulation, stuff like that. Matthew’s foreman, handsomely paid off, was also in on it. He’s in custody right now. We took him in for questioning yesterday. That and your little escapade during the basketball game did it.”

  “I can’t believe it. I thought Fred and Matthew hated one another.” BoomBoom was flabbergasted.

  “Carefully orchestrated. And remember, Fred was a prick to every other construction firm in the county, so Matthew’s wails of mistreatment fell on eager ears. Over the years those two bilked millions out of clients.”

  “Good Lord,” Harry exclaimed. “I figured out Matthew was H.H.’s killer but I didn’t have any idea of the scope of this.”

  “It has been going on since they worked on the Barracks Road shopping center as young men. Fred left construction, supposedly in a huff. What’s also interesting is that Fred had the discipline to hide his money. He kept an account in the Bahamas.”

  “Well, who was in the equipment room?” BoomBoom wondered.

  “Andrew Argenbright,” Cooper replied. “The decision there was to act as though the inventory were completed. No public statements were made as to the results. The university police set up a trap. Well, he came back to steal some more. Small cameras with capabilities of getting a photo in little light had been set up inside the equipment room.”

  “Lucky for us he was there,” BoomBoom said. “Even if he did run like a thief at least he knocked down Matthew.”

  “What if this were the reverse, Coop?” Harry’s mind whirred along. “What if it were Mychelle who figured it out and she told H.H? After all, she worked with Fred.”

  “Possible. We’re hoping Fred will tell us when he’s able in exchange for a lesser sentence. Obviously Matthew’s going to put up a front, tell nothing, and have a battalion of lawyers. Fred was smart, though. He always inspected Matthew’s work. This wasn’t given over to a subordinate. His reason was that Matthew’s projects were large, the inspection had to be entrusted to the senior official, which, in fact, isn’t out of the ordinary. Those two had an airtight cover. H.H. was so damned mad at losing the bid for the sports complex he wanted to bring down Matthew despite his seeming acceptance of things.”

  “But surely over the years subordinates did look at Matthew’s work,” Harry said.

  “The subordinate, and the last couple of years that’s been Mychelle, would go with Fred to inspect that part of the work which was up to code or better. It’s not like everything Matthew did was substandard. They were experts, remember, this was their trade and Matthew and Fred picked those things that would be easiest to hide or replace. You know, put in an expensive brand of pipe where it will show, while using cheaper materials where it won’t show. I don’t have all the details, but I hope we can squeeze them out of Fred. With any luck those two will turn on one another.”

  “And if you think about it, the last thirty years have been one long construction boom in Albemarle County. There’s so much work, who could come after Fred to double-check?” BoomBoom thought out loud.

  “Well, that’s the thing. Fred was so ferocious, such a stickler at every construction site, no one dreamed he’d be in collusion with Matthew. If Fred signed off on a building it must be okay.” Cooper folded her hands together. “I’m telling you, it was a well-thought-out, well-executed scam and they almost got away with it. No one would have ever known if H.H. hadn’t decided to bring down Matthew any way he could.”

  “H-m-m.” BoomBoom folded up the clear wrap that had covered the ham sandwich. “This is one basketball season no one will ever forget.”

  “The strange thing or maybe I should say the brilliant thing is the toxin, the secretions from those little frogs in Matthew’s rain forest at his office, that’s what killed H.H. He used a blowgun hidden in his noisemaker.” Cooper tapped her notebook.

  “Like this?” Harry reached in her pocket retrieving Little Mim’s altered noisemaker.

  “Damn, Harry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Well, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure. I wanted to test-drive it.”

  “Your test-drive nearly got you, BoomBoom, Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker killed.”

  “Yes, well, I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was. I mean, I never figured on Fred.”

  Cooper made an imaginary slap at Harry’s face. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

  “I’m lucky BoomBoom came back. If she hadn’t fought them off and set off the fire alarm, I’d be dead.” Harry bit her bottom lip. “I really have been stupid.”

  “As long as you recognize that. The one thing still puzzling us is the weapon. No trace.”

  “Ice,” Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, Tucker, and Harry said in unison.

  * * *

  53

  Later as Harry watched the fire, Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker snuggled up against her on the sofa, she thought about what had happened.

  What kept nibbling at her was how she accepted Matthew at face value for so long. But then how else can you live in a community? She couldn’t very well spend all her time being suspicious of everyone, trying to ferret out their secrets. He had fooled her for a long, long time.

  She felt stupid but not totally stupid.

  She felt totally stupid about her attitude toward BoomBoom. True, they were very different kinds of personalities but BoomBoom had held out the palm many times and Harry had refused it. For whatever reason, Harry was getting something out of being angry, out of not letting go.

  Time to let go.

  Time to grow up.

  Time to accept Fair’s genuine apology, to cherish him for the man he had become.

  Mrs. Murphy put her paw on Harry’s forearm. “Close call.”

  “Yes,” Tucker agreed.

  “Think Matthew will get the death penalty?” Pewter wondered.

  “No. Rich people don’t get the death penalty, their lawyers see to that, but he’ll spend some time in jail. I just hope it’s a lifetime,” Mrs. Murphy sagely predicted.

  “BoomBoom has guts,” Pewter purred as she snuggled even closer to Harry.

  “Mom, too. I’m proud of her. She finally apologized to Boom,” Murphy said.

  “Why are things so hard for humans?” Tucker sighed.

  “They walk on two legs. Beginning of all their troubles,” Pewter saucily replied and they all three laughed.

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  A certain party has taken to demanding tuna packed in water.

  She plops her striped derriere in the best seat in the house.

  A photo of her oh-so-adorable self without me (have you noticed?) graces the back of this volume.

  Alas, she’s gotten the big head. Where will it end?

  Yours truly,

  P. S. She lies!

  P.O. Box 696

  Crozet, Virginia 22932

  www.ritamaebrown.com

 

 

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