by Nic Saint
Chapter 31
Sarge cursed under his breath. This was outrageous. Then he remembered that there was more to life than work, work, work, and he regained his equanimity. In the army insubordination meant court-martial, while in the private sector it meant praise, or so it seemed.
He turned to face the power plant director, who sat staring at him, wide-eyed. The man looked, now that he came to think of it, a little bit like a fish. Yes, remarkably so, in fact. A carp, perhaps. Or a red snapper. He was fond of fishing, and practiced his art almost every Sunday. He wondered if Dean would be free this next Sunday. Nothing like a fish to attract other fish.
“How about a late dinner, Dean? I’m feeling a little peckish.”
“Dinner? What about the inspection?”
“I’m afraid that’s off.”
“Off? What’s off? What do you mean, off?”
“The inspection. It’s been called off.”
The director’s eyes widened even more, not an appealing sight. Like a fish catching sight of a bigger fish. “What?! Who called it off?”
“The union, of course, who else? They’re on strike.”
“Strike? Strike? Strike?” sputtered the director.
Sarge grimaced. “Come on, Dean. This is not the first time. We’ve been having trouble in this industry for a long time now.”
This was quite true. On and off there had been strikes for months, the ten percent pay increase the unions demanded being met with strong opposition from sector chieftains.
“Do you mean everyone’s on strike? The whole plant?”
“Everyone. They just called it. Production is being shut down for the next twenty-four hours. Do you know a nice seafood place? I love seafood, don’t you? Though I imagine at this time they’ll all be closed for the night.”
“Um, well, there’s a nice little place in Southampton.”
“Excellent.”
The director frowned. “You’re taking this extremely well, Sarge. I would have thought you’d freak.”
Sarge shrugged. “I’ve learned to take the bad with the good,” he said philosophically. “When you can’t beat them, join them, I always say. And if they refuse to work, I refuse to work. So what do you say? Get out of here?”
The director sighed. “Why not? I could use a bite to eat.”
Sarge stood with some effort. Civilian life had eroded his iron constitution. “Even though I rarely agree with the unions, they do have a point. Pay is low.”
Dean seemed reluctant to go into a discussion on pay scales, which wasn’t surprising. After all, he was the one who had to sign the checks.
The two men walked from the office, and the director switched off the lights. A skeleton crew would man the power plant, while the rest of the personnel heeded the call of the union and put down their tools and returned home. Very soon now the place would be empty.
“Do you like to fish, by any chance?” Sarge inquired as they rode the elevator down.
The director gave him a horrified scowl. “Hate it. Truly hate it.”
“Pity,” murmured Sarge.
Chapter 32
Felicity nervously paced the floor of her cell. In her estimation it had been hours since they were arrested by that idiot Chief Whitehouse. Hadn’t the man phoned the mayor by now? She was sure Ted MacDonald would clear them.
She had the distinct impression the chief was simply stalling. Keeping them locked up for as long as he could, simply out of spite.
Alice, who was sound asleep on the bench, seemed to think nothing of this. Well, she had lived with the man all her life, of course, though it amazed Felicity how she could be so sanguine under these circumstances.
Finally she detected a sign of life when the door to the cell block swung open. She was disappointed to find it was Vic Gulley being escorted in by Louise Rhythm, a junior police officer.
Vic, an old-timer with flowing white beard and bald pate, was a regular, and enjoyed spending as much time in jail as he could. Usually he did this by causing minor disturbances. He’d been asking the chief to lock him up for good, but the chief said he needed to commit a capital offense first, and this had Vic stumped somewhat. He’d consulted a community legal clinic, and the lawyer told him he needed to commit murder to become a permanent guest of the state. Vic had given the matter some thought, but had decided against it. He loved prison, but loved his fellow man even more.
“Hey, Fee!” said Louise with a wink. She was a small woman with olive complexion and cornrows, and not Chief Whitehouse’s biggest fan either.
“Hey, Louise.”
“So the chief did it again, huh?”
“Yep. I guess you can say that.”
“So what did you do this time?”
“This time? You make it sound like I’m in and out of jail every day of the week. Did you know this is actually the first time I’ve ever been arrested?”
Louise seemed surprised. “Is that so?”
“And even now it’s a wrongful arrest.”
“Of course it is. Drinking and driving? Insulting an officer?”
“None of that.” She explained what had happened, and Louise clapped her hands with glee. “Breaking into Town Hall! Fee, you hit the jackpot!”
“I didn’t break into Town Hall,” she said tersely. “I had the keys.”
“So you stole the keys—”
“I didn’t steal anything. Well, except for a few feathers, perhaps.”
“You need to stop doing this, Fee. The chief hates it when the citizenry don’t behave.”
“I behave. I was just trying to find out what happened to Moe.”
Louise frowned. “Moe? What the hell’s wrong with Moe?”
Only now did she remember she’d sworn a sacred oath not to divulge Moe’s fate. “Um…”
“Moe’s been parrotnapped,” Alice said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Oh, no!” cried Louise, who was, like most Happy Baysians, a big fan of the bird. “Who would do such a thing?!”
“I have a pretty good idea,” said Felicity, “and if the chief hadn’t locked us up in here, I might even be out there looking for the poor creature right now.”
Louise eyed her speculatively. “So you know who did it, huh?”
Felicity nodded. “I have a lead on a suspect, yes.”
Louise pursed her lips, and directed a look at the door. “Why don’t you tell me now, and I’ll convince the chief to release you now?”
Felicity shook her head. “I need to follow up on this myself. For all I know it’s a dead end, and I’ll have you off chasing wild geese.”
“I don’t mind. Geese, parrots, I chase ‘em all.”
“I know where Moe is!” suddenly piped up Vic. He pointed to his tummy with glee. “I snatched Moe and then I ate him. Damn tasty, too!”
Louise gave him a skeptical look. “You ate Moe? Really?”
“Yep,” he said with a happy smile. “How many years am I facing, officer? That’s birdslaughter, right? A capital crime if I’m not mistaken.”
“For one thing, I don’t believe a word you’re saying, and for another, I don’t even think there’s a law against eating parrots, to be honest.”
“I’ll ask my lawyer,” said Vic, his smile diminishing. “I’m sure he can get me something. That bird’s the apple of the mayor’s eye. I’m sure he’ll throw the book at me!” He gave a loud cackle as Louise escorted him into his cell, his home away from home.
“The man’s got a few screws loose,” she commented, returning to Felicity and Alice. “So you won’t tell me who the suspect is, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Oh, come on, Fee,” urged Alice. “Just tell her so we can get out of here.”
Felicity hesitated. Ever since becoming a reporter she’d developed the cutthroat mentality that characterizes the best in her field. She knew for a fact that Rick would never give up a lead if it could land him a killer story. On the other hand, she didn’t really believe in
suffering for her art, either. She relented. “Oh, all right. It’s Jerry Vale. He works for Chazz Falcone—Rick’s dad.”
“I know Jerry Vale,” said Louise with a ponderous frown. “In fact I think he’s staying at the Happy Bays Inn right now, he and that big brute of a partner of his. I know because I was out there this morning, and I saw them driving off. I remember wondering what they were in town for.”
Louise was currently dating Jack Barnes, receptionist at the inn, which explained why she spent so much time down there.
“You saw them driving off?”
“Yeah, they were dressed weird, too, like Liberace or something.”
“Liberace?”
“You know, the piano player? They were wearing funny clothes.”
Felicity thought about this. Why would they have been wearing funny clothes? Then it dawned on her. Of course. They were the hairdressers! A smile slowly spread across her features. “Alice,” she said, “I think I’ve cracked the case of the missing parrot.”
Chapter 33
“This is a tragedy!” Jerry cried, flapping his arms like Moe. “How could you let this happen?!”
Johnny looked at his partner with a regretful expression on his face. “How was I supposed to know he was gonna escape, Jer?”
“You left the window open!”
“No, you left the window open.”
“No, you—it doesn’t matter! He’s gone, ain’t he? And we need to get him back. So get out there, and find that damn bird!”
Easier said than done, thought Johnny. Moe had a distinct advantage: he could fly. Johnny couldn’t, and neither could Jerry. And for another thing: it was dark out, and though he didn’t remember much from his school days, he seemed to recall that birds have a tendency to sleep at night.
And as the two men drove around Happy Bays on their Moe search, the fact that they didn’t spot a single bird attested to this fact.
“He’s probably home by now,” Johnny muttered as he directed the car toward the heart of town and his bleary eyes to the trees lining the street. They’d entered Powell Street, and were nearing the house where Mayor MacDonald lived. For Johnny had remembered another little factoid about birds. They have some kind of inbuilt GPS system. And it was as they were driving past the mayor’s house, that he suddenly spotted the unique combination of colors that was Moe, lit up by the streetlamp.
“There!” he hissed. “There he is!”
“Where? Where?!” cried Jerry, looking this way and that. Finally his eyes settled on the spot indicated, and his lips twisted into a cruel smile. “That’s our boy. That’s our boy!”
The bird was perched on the second-floor windowsill, sitting perfectly still, probably waiting for his master to wake up and let him in.
“We need to catch him!” cried Jerry.
This gave Johnny pause. It was one thing to find Moe, it was another to clamber up the mayor’s house, steal his bird a second time, and risk being caught in the act.
“Don’t you think it’s a little risky, Jer?”
“Risky? Course not. You just climb up there, snatch that feathery fiend, put him in a bag, and we’re off!”
He did a double-take. “Me climb up that house?”
“Of course, you idiot. You’re the one who lost the damn bird. You get him back!”
Johnny gulped. There was an aspect of the matter he hadn’t touched upon and he felt it incumbent upon him to do so now. “Um. I can’t, Jer.”
“Can’t? What do you mean can’t?!”
“You know why. I’m afraid of heights.”
Jerry rolled his eyes. “That’s not a height. And besides, there’s flower beds, see? They’ll break your fall, see?”
Johnny saw, but disagreed. “It’s not that, Jer. I get dizzy.”
“So?”
“So I can’t do it.”
“Look, it’s very simple. Either you get that bird back, or I’m kicking your dumb ass up that ladder myself.”
“Ladder?” He looked in the direction Jerry was pointing, and now saw the ladder leaning against the big tree in the mayor’s front yard. Merely the sight of the ladder gave him the willies. But then Jerry’s wrath gave him even bigger willies. And it was true that Moe had flown the nest on his watch, so it was only fair that he got him back.
“Oh, all right,” he said finally, but made sure his objections were clear in his voice.
“Now get going, before the whole neighborhood wakes up,” Jerry hissed, and gave him a shove.
Johnny scowled, but he did as he was told, and exited the car. Crossing the street on a jog, he arrived in the mayor’s yard, and stomped across the turf to fetch the ladder. You can do this, Johnny, he thought. You can do this.
“Dumb-ass!” scratched Moe.
“Hey, buddy,” said Johnny, pleased that the little fellow recognized him. “Are you happy to see me? Huh?”
“Dumb-ass!”
“That’s right. It’s me.” He placed the ladder against the house, and took a deep, steadying breath. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he put his foot on the first rung, and felt sweat break out all over his body.
“Moe doo-doo!” suddenly the bird said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, starting to experience a little resentment toward Moe. There really was no need to rub his face in it. He eased his foot onto the second rung, and held on tight, feeling the coarse wood under his fingers. He was off the ground now, and going well.
“Moe doo-doo!” the bird sang out once again, and this time Johnny looked up. He gave his feathered little friend an engaging smile.
“Come to papa, Moe,” he whispered. “Come to papa now.”
But instead of coming to papa, the bird gave a shriek that sounded a lot like a laugh, and the next moment something squishy and wet landed on Johnny’s face. Now it was his turn to shriek, and as he clawed at his face to remove the parrot poo, his large body started its slow descent, and before he knew what happened, he was lying on the dewy lawn, the breath knocked out of him, with Moe cackling like mad.
Just then, a window opened, and the mayor’s head appeared.
“What the devil is all this racket?!”
Then the tubby little man caught sight of Moe, and a look of such elation spread across his face that Johnny almost didn’t feel sorry that he was going to miss out on fifty thousand dollars. Almost. But then he was scooting back across the street, and was hopping into the car. Jerry put his foot on the pedal, and even as they were roaring away from the scene, Johnny wiping the poop from his face, he had the sinking feeling his career as a Pet Bandit had hit a serious snag.
Chapter 34
“So when are you going to let us out?” Felicity asked when the chief finally showed his face again. He was munching a sandwich, and actually seemed to be enjoying this whole charade.
“When you promise not to butt into my investigation,” he replied.
“We promise never to butt into your investigation again,” said Felicity quickly. “So now are you going to release us?”
The chief shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
And to her great surprise he produced the key to the cell, and proceeded to open the door. She hesitated. “Are you sure about this?”
“Oh, come on, Fee,” grumbled Alice, and took her by the arm and led her out. “I’m telling Mom,” she promised her father.
The chief shrugged, and tagged along as they proceeded into the stationhouse. “Just so you know,” he said, taking another bite from his sandwich, “the investigation into the disappearance of Moe is over.”
Felicity eyed the police chief suspiciously. “And why is that, exactly?”
“Because the bird has returned.” He jerked his thumb to his office. “Just got off the phone with the mayor. Turns out Moe suddenly appeared on his windowsill.”
“Hey, but that’s great!” said Alice.
Felicity opened her mouth to speak, but then caught sight of Virgil Scattering trying to attract her attention. The chief turned, and f
rowned when he saw his police officer hovering nearby. “What do you want?”
“Just a word with Fee, chief,” Virgil said with a tight grin.
“Mind you don’t discuss police business,” the chief admonished, then yawned cavernously. “I’m off to bed. I suggest you all do the same.” And with these inspiring words, he ambled off.
“What is it?” Felicity asked Virgil the moment the chief turned a corner.
“There’s been an incident.”
“An incident?” Then the import of his words came home to her, and she clutched Virgil’s arm. “Not…Rick?!”
Virgil nodded quickly, wincing when Felicity’s nails dug into his arm. “He’s fine—he’s fine. He was electrocuted but he’ll live.”
“Electrocuted?!” she cried.
“Shh!!” He gestured to where the chief had disappeared. “Outside.”
The trio trotted out, and when Felicity saw Rick, leaning against Virgil’s car, her face fell. He looked like a smoked salmon, his face black with soot, his clothes torn, and his hair standing on end. The only thing that was intact was his smile.
She hurried over and he laughed when she clutched him close. “I’m all right!” he assured her. “Never been better, in fact.”
“Oh, Rick, you look like—”
“—something Gaston dragged in,” Alice completed the sentence, eyeing Rick with a glint of mirth in her eye.
“We were out at the power plant, and Rick decided ten thousand volts wouldn’t stop him,” Virgil explained.
“Never stopped me before,” Rick muttered.
“So what did you find out?” Felicity wanted to know, striking the business note now that she’d ascertained he would live.
“Well, we found out that it’s a lot harder to get past that fence than we anticipated,” Rick began.
“And that Moe found his way home,” Virgil added, pointing to his crackling police radio.
“What did you find out about the plant?” Felicity specified, and folded her arms across her chest when the two men eyed her sheepishly. “That much, huh?”
