by P C Hatter
“Thanks.” I gave her a quick kiss and raced down the stairs to the corner store to use their pay phone. Velvet picked up on the second ring.
“Velvet, I think we got them. You don’t have to go through with tonight.”
“Don’t try to stall me with excuses, Kaiser. I know how important this is.”
“Would you listen to me? A cheetah named Mazie Quin, one of the models from the agency was murdered tonight. Her name used to be Mazie Quackenbush. She had it changed and—”
“Quackenbush? That’s the friend’s name.”
“What?” I wasn’t sure what Velvet was talking about until she explained.
“Mazie Quackenbush was the friend of Wells’ daughter. The one he said he’d bumped into in the city.”
My throat went dry as my mind raced. “Don’t go tonight.”
“I have to. The police were here earlier looking for you. You’re wanted for murder. They’re watching the building, so don’t come around.”
“Velvet—”
“Don’t make this any harder for me, Kaiser. Time is running out.”
Velvet hung up the phone, and I almost roared. She didn’t realize how little time there was. Duke wanted a week. I’d thought I had hours. Now, all I had were minutes.
I needed to know why Linda Chevy lied and covered for Mazie Quin. Saying that Wells took her home. What was it about Wells meeting Mazie that set everything in motion?
CHAPTER 11
I tried calling Duke, but he wasn’t at the office or at home. Giving up, I got back into my car and noticed it started to snow again. Fate didn’t seem happy with me.
The drive to the Tesco Hotel wasn’t bad. I parked on the curb, turned the collar up on my coat like everyone else and hurried to the hotel. The lobby was crowded with people trying to stay warm and dry. The desk clerk recognized me from the last time.
“You’ve been here before, you can go ahead up.”
“Mind if I use the phone first?”
“Sure, I’ll connect you.” The Guernsey cow fussed with the plugs of the switchboard, but in the end she frowned. Her large lips made her long face look longer. “She’s not answering. Linda could’ve slipped out without me seeing, but she might just be taking a bath. Go up and pound on the door.”
The stairs still squeaked, but the noise from downstairs masked most of the sound. When I reached Linda’s room, light from inside shown out from under the door. I knocked and knocked again. Still no answer, so I tried the door. It wasn’t locked, and I soon found out why. Linda Chevy lay on the floor with her neck at such an odd angle even a ferret couldn’t achieve it naturally.
I stepped inside, closed the door, and touched the body. Not only was it cold but stiff. Linda Chevy had been dead for quite a while. I grabbed the phone and got the clerk at the desk.
“Do you know what time Linda Chevy came in?”
“This morning and quite drunk. Isn’t she there?”
“You’d better get up here. It looks like she’s been dead for several hours.”
“What?”
I heard the phone drop and what sounded like a stampede coming up the stair. The cow threw the door open and stood stock still staring at the body. “Oh my.”
“Who was here today?”
“Oh my.”
I took her arm and gave it a shake. “Snap out of it. Whoever murdered her has already murdered two other people. If I don’t catch him, there’s going to be more. Now think. Who was up here?”
“I don’t know. I’m not supposed to know. People are always coming and going.”
“So, this place is a whore house.”
“I’m not a madam.” She looked about ready to beat me over the head with her fat fists.
“Do you realize what’s going to happen here? In about ten minutes, the cops are going to be all over this place. Now you can either think about what you’re going to say or step right into the manure pile right up to your eyeballs. Which is it?”
The old cow looked at me straight in the eye. “This place has been a madhouse since noon. Anyone could have snuck up here without me seeing.”
“Would someone else know? Cleaner? Bellboy?”
“Everyone’s a regular and takes care of their own rooms. The cleaner only comes in the morning and we haven’t had a bellboy in years.”
“Okay, go downstairs and put me through to the police station. I’ll call from up here. I’m still trying to track this guy down, so I won’t be here when they come. Go ahead and tell them what you told me.”
The cow nodded, turned around, and waddled back down the stair. I grabbed the phone and waited for her to connect me and asked for homicide. Duke wasn’t there but the night guy was.
“This is Kaiser Wrench. I’m at the Tesco Hotel. A ferret named Linda Chevy has been murdered. No, I didn’t do it. The ferret’s already in rigor mortis. The D.A. will want to know about it. Tell that block head I’ll talk to him later. I can’t stick around.”
I dropped the phone back in the cradle and walked out. When I was back in my car, but before I pulled from the curb, I spotted the police car with lights flashing. A long black limousine followed. When it came to a stop in front of the hotel, the D.A. jumped out and started screeching orders as if the cops didn’t know their jobs.
Disgusted at the display, I pulled out on to the street and drove away. If my watch was right, I had only twenty minutes before it struck midnight. I stopped at a corner store and checked the directory for an Allen Dale in the Village. His address was on the edge in an area I knew.
I got back into my car and headed through the snow to the address. It felt like I was crawling in the slippery mess while dodging cars.
At two minutes to midnight, I was at Allen Dale’s place of residence ringing his bell. No one answered, though I could hear the bell ringing somewhere upstairs. I pressed another one of the bells, and someone answered. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, I forgot my keys.”
“Okay.”
With the sound of a buzz, the locked clicked, and I bolted through the door and up the stair. Using a match, I checked the nameplates and found Allen Dale’s on the top floor. There was no sound or light coming from inside. The door was locked.
Angry at not being able to keep Velvet away from Bruce, I took my frustrations out on the door and kicked it in. I stepped inside and closed the door while searching for a light switch. Once it was flipped, I could see the apartment. The furnishings weren’t much but the paintings on the wall must have cost a fortune. The place looked like an art museum after a wild party and before the cleaning crew came in. Cigarette butts filled the ashtrays and bottles crowded every surface, but the paintings didn’t have so much as a speck of dust on their frames.
A search of the place turned up a tiny darkroom, and had I not noticed something odd about the back wall I would have missed the door. A hidden latch probably opened it, but I was still mad and used my foot again. The latch held but the hollow door wound up with a hole. I ripped a hole big enough to crawl through and entered a clothes closet into another apartment.
Allen Dale must have rented the entire floor and converted the place. This side was the exact opposite of the other with expensive furnishings and garbage prints. Three lavishly decorated bedrooms were down a long hall.
The whole place felt wrong. Why would a bachelor need three bedrooms? I sat on a bed and looked around the room. One of the pictures caught my eye because of the shiny surface. Shiny mirrored surface.
When I got up and tried removing it from the wall, it wouldn’t budge. I ran back through the closet between apartments making the hole bigger. Once back in the room, I guessed at where the shiny picture was lined up with the painting in front of me and pulled it down.
A hole had been cut into the wall and you could see everything through the mirrored picture in the room opposite with a front-row seat to the bed. This was a blackmail setup on a grand scale. Allen Dale was using the models at the agency as bait to get the big
guys and bring him to his place so he could get the photos. The public could excuse a lot of things, but infidelity wasn’t one of them.
Aloysius Wells must have fallen into the trap. The problem was, he recognized one of the females. She must have gotten scared and told Wells everything before trying to make a run for it. The killer decided to shut them both up, permanently.
But what about Linda Chevy? Why did she have to die? After attempting to put me off the scent, did she get too big for her britches and start making demands the killer didn’t like? From how Ellen described the ferret, it’s not like she would have backed down.
My attempt at searching for the blackmail pictures was interrupted by Dale coming home. The marmot bolted, and I gave chase, tripping over an ottoman in the process. By the time I got down the stairs and out onto the street, Dale’s car was roaring down the road. I recognized it as the same car that someone took a potshot at me from.
I jumped into my own car thinking I’d chase after him. Only I didn’t have too. Dale didn’t make the turn at the intersection. The guy might have survived had another car not slammed the driver’s side door.
I drove as far as the intersection and jumped the curb so that the car pointed away from the wreckage and got out. Dale’s head was cracked open and a good chunk of the door was now in the driver’s seat. The marmot’s wallet contained lots of money and a registered mail receipt addressed to Bruce Bixler.
The wolf was the killer, and Velvet was with the wolf.
CHAPTER 12
The address on the receipt matched the buildings address. The falling snow masked the floors above. A large canopy kept most of the snow from the front door. The doorman was a large moose and didn’t seem to mind the cold. Something told me he wouldn’t back down from a fight either.
Leaving the car parked at the curb, I cut down the alley and headed the back way around the building. At the end of a set of stairs, the basement doors to the building was cracked open. I knocked and slipped through the door.
“Hello,” I said.
“Yah?” The old Jacobs ram stood in the center of the boiler room and stared at me with unblinking eyes. I pulled a ten spot from my wallet, and the ram picked up a nice long poker. When he stepped closer, I pulled my gun. “Don’t even think about it. Which apartment is Bruce Bixler’s?”
The ram eyed the gun but didn’t move. “Why do you want Bixler?”
“I’m going to gut the damn wolf.”
That put a smile on the old ram’s face, and coming from a sheep with far too many horns on his head, that smile made my skin crawl. “Penthouse. Take the back elevator. Do me a favor?”
When he laid the poker on a table, I put away my gun and dropped the money next to the poker. “What’s the favor?”
“Bring me his head.”
My eyebrows rose, and I took a close look at the ram. “Mind if I asked why?”
Demon fire flashed in the old ram’s rectangular pupils, or it was a reflection from the overhead light. “I had a granddaughter. She was a good ewe.”
No other explanation was necessary. “Do you have a key to the penthouse?”
The ram shook his head. I nodded, headed to where he said the back elevator was and took it to the top floor. It let out in to a long hallway. One side was nothing but large panels of glass that held the falling snow at bay. The hallway wrapped around the corner and led to a small lobby used as a waiting room for the penthouse. Large etchings lined the walls, and plush carpeting filled the area. Near the penthouse door was a table with a bowl full of flowers. Next to the bowl was a key. Velvet was expecting me.
I didn’t question how she managed it, but I didn’t care. I used the key and, with gun drawn, entered the apartment. The lights were low. Shadows moved near the couch, and I could hear a disagreement. I heard Velvet’s voice say, no, along with an angry hiss as Bruce growled.
My own growl interrupted the struggle, allowing Velvet to rake her claws along Bruce’s snout before wriggling free. She yelled, “Kaiser,” and ran behind me as I held the gun on Bruce.
“You know him?”
“She does, and so do you Pinky.”
Bruce growled at me but held his ground. He didn’t seem to notice the blood dripping from the wound Velvet’s claws hat opened.
“You okay, Velvet?”
“Yes.” Her voice was high pitched if not shaky.
Her purse was on the floor. “Did you bring it?”
Velvet knew I was referring to the gun she carried and nodded.
“Grab it.”
Bruce’s eyes grew wide as Velvet darted to her purse and pulled out a gun.
“How about I let her shoot you Pinky? The blackmail scheme you and Dale had going was a nice setup. Dale had the pretty females and the camera. You made the connections and had your guys handle the heavy lifting. Then Wells recognized one of the females and wasn’t about to let things alone. He wasn’t about to hand over five-grand for his photos and leave. Only problem was, I was in the room when you shot him. Big mistake. You should have killed me as well. Things went downhill from there.”
The wolf’s eyes narrowed and focused on me. “Bastard.”
“Have you taken a look in the mirror lately? How many others had to die? Dagger screwed up. Mazie had to be silenced along with Linda.”
“You’re not hanging a murder rap on me.”
“Not if I shoot you first.”
“You’re not shooting anyone.” The voice came from behind me, and I swore.
“Drop the gun, or I’ll plug both you and the dame.”
I could feel the barrel on my neck. Velvet could’ve shot him, but I probably would have lost my head. She didn’t want to risk it and dropped her gun, so I did the same.
Bruce dived for my gun and used it to try to bust my jaw. I went to my knees instead.
“Take him into the sound proof room. I’ll deal with them both there. Maybe I’ll make him watch first.”
The next thing I knew, I was being dragged across the floor and strapped to a chair. A door slammed, and Velvet gave a terrified hiss.
My head cleared enough to struggle against my bonds and brake the chair when I went over.
Bruce said, “Shoot him if he tries anything.”
Both wolves took their eyes off Velvet. She pulled out a small hammerless automatic and plugged the goon. The bullet must have hit something vital because he when down quick enough.
Bruce went for Velvet, and I dove for the gun still in the goon’s hand. Velvet’s gun ended up somewhere on the floor in the struggle, and Bruce couldn’t get to the one I was after before me. Realizing this, he lit out of the room, locking the door behind him.
Velvet was next to me in an instant. “Kaiser, you idiot. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. You were wonderful.”
Tears filled her eyes as she stroked my fur. “Luckily I had back up, or we’d both be goners.”
“Help me up.”
Velvet helped me to a standing position, and we tried the door.
“It’s locked. Now what?” Velvet bared her teeth. “Wish I’d have shot Bruce.”
“You still might be able too. Where’s that gun?”
Velvet retrieved her backup gun and picked up the goon’s. She handed it to me, and I fired at the lock. The second shot did the trick, and we were out of the room.
“Where would Bruce go?” asked Velvet.
“After the blackmail photos. They weren’t at Dale’s place.”
“The lodge?”
“Someplace more secure.” I swore when I realized where Bruce was headed. The Allen Dale Agency. Retrieving my own gun off the living room floor, I tossed the goon’s on a chair.
“Call Duke. If you can’t reach him ask for the D.A. and have him put a call out for Bruce. If he gets to those pictures before us…” I didn’t bother to finish the sentence but stumbled out the door in to the penthouse waiting room. The main elevator indicator light was pointed down, so I took the service elevato
r to the main lobby.
The startled looks both the front clerk gave me along with the doorman made me want to laugh as I ran through the snow to my car. The possibility that Ellen might still be at the agency offices stole that small amusement.
I pulled up in front of the agency’s building, scrambled out of the car, and banged on the door. The owl behind the desk checked his watch and waved me off. When I kept banging on the door, he opened it. “We’re closed.”
I shoved my way in. “Has anyone come into the building in the last hour?”
“No. we’re closed.”
“Is there a back way?”
“Yes, and it’s locked. What are—”
“Call the cops if you want. I’m tracking a murderer and need answers.”
That got the old bird. His eyes got as big as serving platters, and his head whipped around in a two hundred- and seventy-degrees motion only an owl could do. “Murderer? Where?”
“If I knew that I wouldn’t be looking for him. Look, bud. Who’s been in here tonight?”
“Some guy on the first floor. A few insurance agents.”
“Can I get into the Allen Dale Agency?”
The old owl brightened. “One of the females who work there went up. I think she’s still there.”
The skin beneath my fur prickled. “Take me up there now.”
“Best use the service elevators.”
“Fine, let’s go.” I shoved him toward the elevator, and he almost dropped his timeclock in the rush.
The elevator dumped us out on the agency’s floor and the lights behind the door blazed like it was a working day. The smell hit us both when we opened the door. Skunk.
Gun out, I searched the premises, my eyes tearing up at the strong odor. The owl flew to the windows and opened every single one he could find. Freezing air rushed in but could only do so much to clean the air.
We found Ellen’s body on the floor in the storage room. An old file cabinet was pulled open and half the contents removed. The dust on the floor was disturbed where a wooden crate must have sat. Tucked in Ellen’s fist was a sales receipt.
