Murder of the Cat's Meow: A Scumble River Mystery

by Denise Swanson

  “So, why didn’t you tell Quirk that?” Skye asked, glancing discreetly at her watch. Wally would be wondering where she was.

  “I didn’t want him to take me off the case.” Zelda’s dark eyes glowed with fervid sincerity. “Several of the more senior officers are on vacation, so this is my chance to do something on a murder investigation other than crowd control and background checks.” A crease formed between her brows. “If I can’t work the investigation, Zuchowski will get a leg up on me. He already lords it over me because he started a week before I did.”

  “I see.” Skye couldn’t remember ever seeing the other rookie, although she’d heard Wally mention him from time to time. He’d been hired last summer when she’d been preoccupied planning her cousin’s wedding, and he had flown under her radar since then.

  Skye waited for Zelda to continue, and when she didn’t, Skye finally asked, “I assume you’re telling me this because you’d like me to intervene in some way?” She knew she sounded overly formal, but being engaged to the chief put her in an awkward position. “What are you hoping I can do?”

  “I hate to ask.” The young woman frowned. “But I don’t know who else to turn to.”

  Zelda’s expression reminded Skye of a puppy who had made a puddle in the middle of the living room carpet—remorseful, but with no idea how to solve the problem.

  “I could speak with Quirk,” Skye offered, then cautioned, “But I think he’d respect you more if you went to him yourself and told him exactly what you just told me. Maybe explain he caught you off guard.”

  “But he’ll be mad.”

  “Probably.” Skye nodded. “At least at first. But I think he’ll understand your motives.” She resolved that if the sergeant gave Zelda too hard a time, she’d remind him of his own indiscretion. “Do you want me to come with you when you tell him?”

  “No.” Zelda took a deep breath. “I see now that I need to do this on my own.”

  The women parted, Zelda in search of Quirk and Skye seeking Wally. She found him upstairs in his office. The decor never changed, although Skye did notice he had a new photograph of the two of them on his desktop. The previous picture had been a formal portrait of Skye taken when she was the maid of honor at her cousin’s over-the-top wedding. She was glad he had replaced it, since in that photo she was wearing a Pepto-Bismol pink dress that did nothing for either her complexion or her figure.

  After a quick hug, Wally cupped her chin and examined the injury to her cheek. Frowning, he shook his head and threatened, “I should arrest Bunny Reid for assaulting you with a deadly grooming tool.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Skye explained. “I should have known better than to leap into the situation without considering the consequences.”

  “Well…” Wally’s tone was grudging. “They do look as if they’re healing pretty quickly.”

  “See.” Skye smiled. “I told you I didn’t have to see a doctor.”

  “Hmm.” Wally made a noncommittal noise before gently kissing Skye’s wounded cheek and returning to the chair behind his desk.

  As he settled into his seat, Skye took a moment to appreciate her good fortune in being engaged to someone as wonderful and handsome as Wally. He had turned forty-three a couple of weeks ago, but the silver in his black hair and the slight lines around his mouth did nothing to mar his rugged good looks.

  Silently, she thanked God that they had finally ended up together. She’d had a crush on him since she was a teenager and he was a twenty-two-year-old rookie on the Scumble River police force, but up until a couple of years ago, something had always kept them apart.

  Wally interrupted her reverie. “I’ve got Quirk’s report here.” He flipped open the manila file in front of him and scanned the contents. “There’s not much to go on. According to his notes you found the body, called nine-one-one, and when the police arrived, the only people present in the bowling alley were you and Bunny.”

  “That about sums it up.” Skye tried to think if she had anything to add. “The front door was unlocked, although Bunny swears she locked it.”

  “I see that.” Wally lifted a brow. “But how reliable is Bunny?”

  “On this matter, I would say ninety-nine percent. She’s a surprisingly good businesswoman.”

  “According to the crime scene techs, there were no fingerprints on the weapon.” Wally made a wry face. “They’ll get back to us with anything else, although since it’s a public place, I’m not holding out much hope.”

  “And I probably messed up any prints on the utility closet door.” Skye shook her head regretfully. “If only I hadn’t been juggling a smelly cat, I might have been more observant and not disturbed the scene.”

  “Or the body might not have been discovered until it started to decompose,” Wally said in an attempt to reassure her. “If the weapon was wiped clean, you can bet that the knob and everything else was, too.”

  “That’s true.” Skye brightened, then said, “Oh, before I forget, here’s the list of people with motives for killing Alexis. And there’s one more possibility. Ivan Quigley, the guy she was matched with during the speed-dating event.” Skye explained what she had learned from Frannie and Justin at the café.

  “Let me take a look at the others.” Wally flipped through the paper-clipped pages. “Geez! The vic was sure disliked by a lot of people.” He added, “This confirms Quirk’s impression from what everyone was saying at the brunch. No one had a kind word for Alexis.”

  “Ah.” Skye crossed her legs. “I was sort of wondering why Quirk allowed Bunny to continue with the awards ceremony.” She swung her foot. “Now, I’m guessing he had his officers mingle to overhear the gossip.”

  “That, and to see if anyone who was supposed to be there didn’t show up.”

  “Right.” Skye let her loafer dangle from her toe. “Anyone AWOL?”

  “Elijah Jacobsen.”

  “Shoot. Considering his altercation with Alexis yesterday, his absence doesn’t look good.” Skye was strangely fond of Elijah, but she had been afraid the odd man might turn out to be the killer. “Maybe his cat didn’t make it into the final round and that’s why he didn’t bother to come to the brunch.”

  A knock on the door distracted Wally before he could respond to Skye’s suggestion, and he shouted, “Come in.”

  Quirk flung the door open and announced, “I sent a couple of officers to the address Bunny gave me for Jacobsen. The ex-doc has flown the coop.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Crazier Than John Smith’s Cat

  “How do you know Jacobsen’s gone?” Wally stood up and strode over to the sergeant. “Is it possible he’s just not home?”

  “His sister lives with him,” Quirk reported. “She said he wasn’t there when she got up this morning, but he left her a message.”

  Shoot! Skye held her breath. Elijah’s disappearance made him a prime suspect. Could there be any other explanation, except the obvious one, for his abrupt departure? She stared at Quirk, waiting for him to reveal the contents of the note.

  Finally, after handing a piece of paper sealed in an evidence bag to Wally, the sergeant summarized what it said. “He tells his sister to take care of Princess and the other cats. God told him that in order to cleanse his soul, he should go into the wilderness for forty days. If he survives, he’ll be back then.”

  “Son of a—” Wally glanced at Skye and cut himself off, then turned to Quirk. “Put an all-points bulletin out on Jacobsen, get a warrant to search his house, and bring his sister in for questioning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Quirk touched his forehead in a half salute. “I’m on it.” He spun on his heel and hurried out of the office.

  Once the sergeant was gone, Skye asked, “Does Elijah live in Scumble River?”

  “No. He lives within the Brooklyn city limits.” Wally handed Skye the evidence-bagged note, then sat back down behind his desk. “Why?”

  “I was wondering about jurisdictional issues,” Skye explained as she examin
ed the letter.

  “As long as the judge who issues a warrant presides over the county in which it’s executed, we can conduct the search.” Wally laced his fingers behind his neck. “As a matter of courtesy we’ll notify the local authorities and we usually request that a county deputy accompany our officers.”

  “I see.” Skye nodded, then said, “Although Elijah’s message sounds damning, I can’t see Alexis ever being willing to go somewhere alone with him. Or meet him in the basement and hide out with him until the bowling alley closed.”

  Wally rubbed a hand across his eyes. “But you and the others couldn’t come up with anyone she would agree to meet in the basement.” He pursed his lips. “And the medical examiner said that the body wasn’t moved. She was killed where you found her. Using liver temp, the ME puts the time of death between eleven thirty and twelve thirty last night.”

  “Great.” Skye tucked an escaped curl back behind her headband. “People won’t be able to remember if a particular person was present when everyone was getting their coats on and leaving. That means a lot of our suspects won’t have verifiable alibis.”

  “True,” Wally agreed. “But right now I’m more interested in Jacobsen. From what I’ve read, he sounds Looney Tunes. What’s your impression of the guy?”

  “He’s a damaged soul who seems to have found a refuge in his cats. Bunny said he told her that he applied to her dating site to find a woman who was like him.” Skye shifted in her seat.

  “Like him in what way?” Wally dragged a legal pad toward him.

  “My guess is he meant someone who finds it hard to cope with everyday life.” Skye struggled to express her thoughts. “Someone who loves cats for their serenity.”

  “That makes sense.” Wally nodded. “Nothing like petting a cat to lower your blood pressure and calm you down.”

  “Exactly.” Skye leaned forward. “So when Alexis both dissed his favorite cat and let Princess escape, it was as if she was attacking his best friend.” Skye considered all she had witnessed and overheard. “Then, to top it off, Alexis taunted Elijah about his past. She really seemed to enjoy making people squirm.”

  “Hmm.” Wally clicked his pen and made a note, then asked, “After the initial altercation in which he assaulted Alexis, did you witness any other incidents between them?”

  “No.” Skye reran yesterday’s events in her mind. “I never saw them together again, and the few times I ran into Elijah he seemed fine.” She closed her eyes, trying to remember. There had been something unusual she’d noticed about the ex-doc’s behavior, but what was it? Shoot! Nope, she couldn’t dredge it up to the surface.

  Wally interrupted her concentration. “Can you think of anything more about him? Anything that might explain his weird behavior?”

  “While Frannie and I were doing the dishes after the dinner last night, she said that Elijah told her that twenty years ago, he was an extremely successful surgeon, but he was in an auto accident that resulted in his fiancée’s death and in which he suffered a traumatic head injury. It ended his career.”

  “Why’s that?” Wally looked up; he’d been taking down all Skye said. “Did it mess up his fine-motor skills or vision or what?”

  “I didn’t notice any of those concerns.” Skye shook her head. “But significant brain trauma can impair cognitive functioning.”

  “In what way?”

  “Memory, reasoning, problem solving, speed of mental processing, concentration, organizational ability, decision making, judgment.” She shrugged. “Pretty much every skill needed to be a good doctor can be compromised.”

  “Could a head injury cause behavioral issues?” Wally gazed intently at Skye.

  “Definitely.” She nodded vigorously. “It’s very common to see difficulties in socializing, and with self-control, mood swings, irritability, dangerous actions, and physical outbursts.”

  Wally narrowed his eyes. “Like attacking someone and killing them?”

  “In the heat of the moment, yes,” Skye agreed. “But I can’t see how someone with Elijah’s disabilities could have planned a murder that involved luring someone to a place that person wouldn’t normally go, then having the forethought to bring a weapon—since it certainly wasn’t in the utility closet to begin with. And how did he get away without anyone noticing him?”

  “It could have been just one of those perfect storm kinds of situations,” Wally argued. “The vic could have forgotten something in the basement—you did say the room she’d been judging in was down there.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Maybe Jacobsen was still ticked at her from that morning, so he followed her to demand an apology,” Wally continued. “She said something to set him off, and he just happened to have the wire cat toy in his pocket.”

  “Shoot!” Skye bit her lip. “That’s a plausible scenario, but having that cat toy in his pocket would have been really awkward since the handle was so long. And something just doesn’t feel right to me about Elijah being the murderer.”

  “Because you liked the guy and felt sorry for him?” Wally suggested.

  “Maybe,” Skye admitted. “But how about all the other people who disliked Alexis?”

  “None of them ran away to cleanse their souls,” Wally pointed out.

  “How do you know?” Skye asked. “Just because they showed up for the final judging and awards ceremony doesn’t mean they’re still around.” Her voice rose excitedly as an idea popped into her head. “They might have thought that the body wouldn’t have been found yet and reasoned that it would look funny if they didn’t attend the brunch.”

  “That’s true.” Wally stood. “And I never intended to stop the investigation, but like it or not, Jacobsen is our prime suspect.”

  “I understand.” Skye watched Wally step from behind his desk. “What’s next?”

  “Three of my full-timer officers aren’t around—one’s on vacation, one’s sick, and one had a death in the family—so that leaves Quirk, Martinez, Zuchowski and the two part-timers.” Wally pulled the other visitor’s chair closer to Skye and took her hand. “Quirk called all of them in, and, as we speak, they’re phoning the list of participants that Bunny provided to see who has an alibi.”

  “Good.” Skye smiled in relief. “If Elijah killed Alexis, I want him brought to justice. However, I don’t want the fact that he’s peculiar to convince you it’s him before he’s had a fair trial.” She leaned forward and kissed Wally. “But I know you’d never do that.”

  “Thanks, darlin’.” Wally scooped her into his lap and stole another kiss.

  “Anytime.”

  “Now, I need to give my officers your list of possible suspects, so they can make locating those individuals their priority.” Wally nudged Skye to her feet, then stood up. “Any of them who don’t have alibis that check out, we’ll interview in person.”

  Skye started toward the door, paused, and said, “I know Quirk is aware of the vendors.” She explained about Zelda’s cousin. “But did Bunny include their names on the list she gave him?”

  “I don’t know.” Wally put a hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the office. “I’ll have him check that out.”

  “Good.” Skye started down the stairs. “Because it just occurred to me that Kyle O’Brien, the photographer who was supposed to meet me this morning to take pictures of Bingo, never did show up.”

  “Hmm.” Wally led the way toward the cubicles the officers were using. “I’ll be interested in hearing his excuse.”

  “Me, too.” Skye trailed him down the narrow hallway. “And the three other vendors all had a beef with Alexis—they’re among the names we gave you. But to be fair, two of them are tiny eighty-year-old twins who I doubt would have the strength to strangle someone as tall and strong as Alexis.”

  “You’d be surprised what someone intent on murder is capable of doing,” Wally commented, then turned his attention to briefing the officers manning the phones regarding the top persons of interest on thei
r calling list. Once he was finished, Wally turned to Skye and said, “You might as well go home. Who knows how long I’ll be here, but there’s nothing more you can do tonight.”

  “If you’re sure…” Skye trailed off. She hated to leave if she could help, but she was bone-tired and tomorrow was a school day.

  “I’m positive.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the exit. “Can you come in after work tomorrow and help with the witness interviews?”

  “Absolutely.” Skye allowed herself to be led outside and walked to her car. “I don’t have any after-hours meetings scheduled, so I should be able to make it here no later than four.”

  “That’ll be perfect.” Wally opened the Bel Air’s door. “Right now, I’ll go find Frannie, Justin, and Bunny.” Once Skye was seated, he leaned in and kissed her good-bye. “I need to talk to the three musketeers in order to get a better picture of the weekend’s activities.”

  “Good luck with that.” Skye waved, slammed the door, and drove off. She didn’t envy Wally’s trying to make sense of all that had gone on during the cat show/speed dating/bowler disco party.

  After placing a reassuring call to her mother—she knew May would have heard about the murder the minute she got back from her gambling weekend—Skye spent the evening worrying about Elijah and fussing over Bingo. The cat still stared at her suspiciously every time she approached him. She half expected Wally to call or drop over, but when he hadn’t done either by ten o’clock, she gave up and went to bed.

  Monday morning should have been the first day of spring break, which the Scumble River School District usually took during the last week of March. However, this year a February flu epidemic had shut down the district for ten days. So, in order to avoid extending attendance into the middle of June when the weather might be too hot—two of the three buildings were not air-conditioned—the board had canceled the vacation, and classes were in session.