The Case of the Klutzy King Charles

by B R Snow

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he said. “Let’s go check it out.”

  “Now?”

  “If a woman is being held against her will, why on earth would I wait?” he said, suddenly all business.

  “Good point,” I said, nodding. “Just give me a minute to let a few people know I’m leaving. I’ll meet you outside.”

  I gave Josie and my mother a quick overview of where I was going. As expected, my news generated have you completely lost your mind looks from both of them, but they didn’t put up much of a fight. I assumed the fact that I was going with a cop reduced their anxiety levels, or they’d simply learned over the years not to waste their breath trying to talk me out of something once I’d made up my mind.

  I met Detective Renfro outside, and we decided to take his car since he considered our visit official police business. We made the short drive, and I followed him up the pathway that led to the verandah. I stood directly behind him, and he knocked on the door. Moments later, the door opened and Sylvia, the owner of the guesthouse I’d paid a visit to several days ago, was surprised to see the man standing in front of her.

  “Detective Renfro?” Sylvia said, smiling. “It’s so nice to see you. And Happy New Year to you and yours. What brings you by?”

  If she’d been surprised to see the cop standing on her porch, she was stunned when I took a step to my right and came into view. She flinched, then recovered and forced a smile in my direction.

  “Suzy, right?” Sylvia said, brushing her hair back from her face.

  “Hi, Sylvia,” I said, doing my best to sound casual.

  “I have a few questions, and I was wondering if we could come inside,” Detective Renfro said.

  “Why, of course,” she said, taking a step to one side to give us room.

  We entered, and I glanced around what appeared to be a sitting area for the guests. Several chairs and couches filled the room, and a large screen TV was mounted on one wall.

  “It’s quiet,” Detective Renfro said, glancing around. “Are all your guests already up and about for the day?”

  “No,” Sylvia said, unable to maintain eye contact. “Actually, I’ve recently had some plumbing problems I need to get fixed before I can rent rooms again. Just my luck it happens during one of my busiest times of the year, right?”

  She was lying and judging from her reaction to mine, she knew I knew it.

  “That is bad luck,” Detective Renfro said, sitting down on a couch without being invited.

  “You mentioned you had some questions,” Sylvia said, still standing, but hovering near the couch.

  “Yes. I’m wondering if you’ve heard from a young woman recently.”

  “Young woman?” she said, going for coy. “A lot of my guests are women. I meet so many, and they come and go all the time. I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific, Detective.”

  “Matkazeme Cooper,” I said softly. “Is that specific enough for you, Sylvia?”

  Sylvia took a step backward as if recoiling from a punch I’d thrown.

  “I think she knows who we’re talking about,” Detective Renfro said as he watched her try to recover.

  “Who?” Sylvia managed eventually. “I’m sorry, but I really…” Her voice faded to a whisper then she sat down next to Detective Renfro on the couch. “Yes, she was here at one point.”

  “Although you weren’t willing to tell me her name, you already confirmed she’d been here the time we spoke several days ago, Sylvia,” I said, sitting down on the arm of a chair.

  “Then why are you here?” she said as tears began to well in her eyes.

  “Because we’re still looking for her,” I said. “The last time I was here, you told me that you used to be a housekeeper for a family on Seven Mile Beach before you opened the guesthouse.”

  “Yes, I was,” she whispered. “What about it?”

  “You used to be John Smith’s housekeeper, didn’t you, Sylvia?”

  After listening to my neurons debate how to play it back and forth like an extended tennis rally on the ride over, I’d finally decided to just float the question. If I was wrong, it would save the detective and I some time as well as allow us to get out of the house without being too embarrassed or accused of harassing the woman. But if I was right, and I was almost certain I was, a big piece of the puzzle was about to drop into place. I stared at her with a blank expression and waited.

  “Yes,” she eventually whispered. She wiped a stream of tears off her cheeks with the dish towel she was holding and exhaled audibly. “But as I told you the other day, she left just before Christmas.”

  “I remember you saying that,” I said, nodding but not taking my eyes off her.

  “Can you tell us where she went?” Detective Renfro said. “It would be very helpful. We need to make sure she’s safe.”

  “All she said was that she was going to stay with a friend,” Sylvia said, again failing to make eye contact.

  “Was that friend a man named Gavin?” Detective Renfro said.

  I shook my head even before Sylvia did. Major whiff with that question, Detective Renfro.

  “Gavin? A friend?” she said, scowling. “Not likely.”

  “And since Gavin was also one of your guests at the same time she was, it’s not likely she would be leaving here to go stay with him someplace else, right?” I said.

  “He was staying here?” Detective Renfro said, frowning at me. “How the heck did you know that?”

  “She told me,” I said, pointing at Sylvia.

  “Don’t you think that was something you might have mentioned?” he said, obviously miffed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, shrugging. “It just never came up in our conversations.”

  “A word of advice,” he said, glaring at me. “If you expect my help, try not to withhold important facts like that.”

  “Geez, I said I was sorry. So, you do think it’s important?”

  “Well, it’s definitely something I needed to know,” he said, shaking his head. “Amateurs.” Then he looked at Sylvia who seemed confused by our banter. “Do you know the name of this friend she was supposed to be staying with?”

  “No, I’m sorry. I don’t,” she said, again failing the eye contact test. But this time she let her eyes drift toward the stairs that led up to the second floor of the guesthouse.

  Detective Renfro also caught her subconscious glance at the second floor. He caught my eye and gave me an almost imperceptible nod of his head, his signal that I should go ahead with the idea we had discussed and argued about in the car on the way over.

  “Okay, then, I guess we’ll be going,” Detective Renfro said, placing his hands on his thighs and hoisting himself up off the couch. “Thanks for your time, Sylvia. And we’re sorry to show up while you’re right in the middle of a construction project.”

  “What?” she said, squinting at him.

  “Your plumbing problem,” he said, smiling at her. “I hope it’s fixed soon.”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I’m sure it will be,” Sylvia said, getting to her feet. “It was nice seeing both of you. And I wish I could be more help.”

  “I’m sure you do, Sylvia. But thanks,” I said, then immediately transitioned into a frantic, screaming woman. “Earl! How on earth did that happen? Are you okay? Oh, no. Look at all that blood! You poor thing. C’mon, Detective, help me get him to the vet! Hang in there, Earl! Oh, I hope he can survive until we get there!”

  Sylvia stared at me open-mouthed like I’d completely lost the plot and glanced around the room for signs of the King Charles.

  “What on earth is the matter with you?” she whispered.

  Then we heard the soft rattle of chains and a panicked voice coming from the second floor.

  “Earl! What’s the matter with Earl? Is he okay?”

  Then the voice fell silent. Detective Renfro nodded and gave me two thumbs up. Sylvia stared down at the floor.

  “I knew it,” I said, glancing at the
landing at the top of the stairs. “Total dog lover.”

  “Is there something you’d like to tell us, Sylvia?” Detective Renfro said softly.

  She nodded without looking up, then turned and led us up the stairs to the second floor.

  Chapter 27

  At the top of the stairs, Detective Renfro paused long enough to remove his gun from his holster then nodded at Sylvia to open the door. She glanced down at the gun, then shook her head at the detective.

  “You won’t need that,” she said, opening the door.

  “I’m sure you can understand why I might not believe you, Sylvia,” he said, racking a shell into the chamber.

  Sylvia shrugged then led the way into the bedroom. She moved to one side to give us room, and we saw Matkazeme Cooper sitting on the bed. A long, heavy chain was attached to one leg, and the chain was fastened to a large metal eyelet that had been secured into one of the walls. She glanced back and forth at both of us with a wide-eyed stare.

  “What happened to Earl?” she said, panic-stricken.

  The woman was bruised and chained to the bed, but her first question was about the well-being of her dog. My respect for her ratcheted up several levels.

  “Earl’s fine,” I said. “He’s safe and sound.”

  “Then what was that I heard?” she said, confused.

  “That was a total fake out,” Detective Renfro said. “A little misdirection to see if we could get a little cooperation.” He glared at Sylvia who was leaning with her back against one of the walls.

  “So, he’s really okay?” Matkazeme said, relieved.

  “He’s doing great,” I said, smiling. “And certainly a lot better than you.”

  I took my first close look at her. She had definitely recovered from her near-fatal kayak trip and appeared to be back to normal. That is, apart from the marks all over her face and neck that hadn’t been there when we’d found her on the beach. Somebody had definitely given her quite a beating as borne out by the yellow and purple bruises and what appeared to be a broken nose.

  “Did you do that to her?” Detective Renfro said to Sylvia.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, glaring at him. “Of course not.”

  “Then who did?” he said.

  “Gavin,” I said softly.

  Detective Renfro looked at me then glanced back and forth at the other two women for confirmation. They both nodded.

  “Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Would one of you mind telling me why?”

  They both remained silent. I glanced around the room, didn’t see what I was looking for, then turned toward Sylvia.

  “Where’s the key for that thing?” I said, nodding at the chain.

  Sylvia dug into her pocket and tossed me a key that was attached to a rabbit’s foot.

  “Nice touch,” I said, shaking my head at the rabbit’s foot. Then I tossed the key to Matkazeme who caught it and unlocked the ankle bracelet. She sighed with relief, then leaned forward on the bed and began massaging her ankle.

  “Gavin was furious at you for taking the kayak out on the water, wasn’t he?” I said to her. “Were you trying to escape?”

  “I’m not sure I’d call it escaping,” she said. “But I was certainly getting tired of being told I couldn’t go anywhere. Yeah, Gavin was mad. Really mad.”

  “And when you got discharged from the hospital, he brought you back here, didn’t he?”

  “He did,” she said, continuing to rub her ankle.

  “Whose bright idea was it to chain you up?” Detective Renfro said, again glaring at Sylvia.

  “It wasn’t me,” Sylvia said.

  “It was Gavin’s idea, right?” the detective said, giving them his best stern-cop look.

  “No,” Sylvia said, shaking her head.

  “It was your father’s idea, wasn’t it, Matkazeme?” I said.

  “Yeah,” she said softly.

  Detective Renfro stared at me in disbelief. I shrugged it off.

  “Now that I’ve got all the junk cleared away, my neurons are finally firing on all cylinders,” I said by way of explanation.

  “What?” he said, baffled.

  “Things are clearing up,” I said. “It’s like a fog has been lifted.”

  “Well, then, knock yourself out,” Detective Renfro said, making a sweeping arm gesture inviting me to take the lead.

  “Thanks, Detective,” I said, beaming at him. I looked at the woman who was sitting on the bed with her legs folded under her. “What sort of shape were you in when you were discharged from the hospital?”

  “I was a mess,” she said, shrugging. “And they’d given me some serious painkillers, so I was pretty much out of it.”

  “Gavin picked you up at the hospital and brought you back here?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s when he beat you up, right?” I said.

  “Was that your father’s idea, too?” Detective Renfro said.

  “No,” I said, jumping in before she could answer. I felt my face flush red with embarrassment. “Sorry, I should let you answer that question.”

  “That’s okay,” Matkazeme said, finally managing a small smile. “You’re doing pretty good. Please, continue.”

  “The beating was Gavin’s idea,” I said. “Somebody wasn’t happy that you’d tried to get away, probably your father, and Gavin got chewed out big time for not doing what he was told. And instead of taking it like a man, he decided to take his frustration and anger out on you.” I glanced over at Sylvia. “Something he did despite your vigorous protests.”

  “My protests obviously didn’t work,” Sylvia said, glancing over at the woman on the bed. “I’m so sorry, Zemmy. Look at what that animal did to her.”

  “I’ll be fine, Sylvia,” she said, then glanced back at me. “I slipped out with Earl late on Christmas Eve and headed for the beach. I saw some lights from a boat that was anchored offshore and stole a kayak that was nearby. But the boat was a lot further offshore than I thought.”

  “That happens a lot,” I said, nodding. “It looks like something is only a few hundred yards away in the water, but it can be miles out to sea.”

  “Yeah, I know that now. And by the time the current and the wind did their thing, I was completely worn out and probably at least a mile from shore. I thought for sure Earl and I weren’t going to make it. Then the next thing I remember is being pulled to shore by what I thought was a black bear.” She laughed. “Yeah, I must have really been out of it. A bear swimming off Seven Mile Beach, right? At first, I tried to fight it off, but then I realized it was a dog. It was a Newfie that saved our lives, wasn’t it?”

  “It was.”

  “I’d like to thank him at some point,” she said. “Where’s Earl?”

  “Perched comfortably on my mother’s lap,” I said, chuckling.

  “His favorite spot in the whole world,” she said, laughing. “Can you take me to him? I miss him so much.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, glancing at Detective Renfro who nodded his agreement.

  “Thank you,” she said, starting to rub her ankle again. “After Gavin beat the crap out of me, he followed my father’s demand to chain me up until he agreed it was safe for me to leave.”

  “Does your father know that he beat you?” I said.

  “No, the only people who knew were Sylvia and me,” she said, then noticed the look Detective Renfro was now giving Sylvia. “What is it?”

  “You were the only one who knew?” he said to Sylvia.

  “Yes,” Sylvia said, nodding, then caught the inference the detective was making. “Oh, stop it, Detective. I didn’t kill that monster. But for the record, I certainly didn’t shed any tears when I heard he was dead.”

  “Do you have an alibi for that night?”

  “Yeah, she does,” Matkazeme said, nodding. “Me. She spent a couple of hours working on my cuts and bruises. Then we played Gin Rummy the rest of the night.”

  “Just like the old days, huh?” Sylvia said with
a big smile.

  “Except you never let me win anymore,” Matkazeme said, laughing. “When I was a kid, I used to win all the time. She had me convinced I was a gin rummy genius.”

  I watched their exchange play out and was soon convinced that the relationship the women shared was long, durable, and steeped in love and mutual respect.

  “How long were you the Smith’s housekeeper?” I said.

  “From the time Zemmy was a baby until she turned twelve,” Sylvia said, her eyes dancing with the memories.

  “Then my folks split up, and I left with my mom,” Matkazeme said. “I haven’t been back until a few weeks ago.”

  “And when that article showed up in The People’s Paradise your father knew you’d written it?” I said.

  “I’m sure he recognized my writing,” she said, nodding. “I’ve been tormenting him with articles like that for several years.”

  “And once she showed up at your guesthouse, you had to agree to keep her here because of your relationship with Mr. Smith, right?” I said to Sylvia.

  She nodded and plopped down on a chair.

  “He said it was essential that I keep her out of the way until he figured a few things out,” she said. “And he’s always been very good to me. I couldn’t refuse.”

  “And he decided to keep you here just because you wrote that article?” I said, frowning.

  “I think that might have been the final straw,” Matkazeme said, shrugging. “But like I said, I’ve been tormenting him for years, and I’m sure he doesn’t want me sticking my nose into whatever he’s working on down here at the moment.”

  “You don’t know what he’s doing?” I said, surprised.

  “You read the article,” she said. “Did it sound like I knew what he was trying to do?”

  “Actually, no, it didn’t.”

  “I know it’s Jansmid that’s the key to all of this,” she said, staring off, deep in thought.

  “Oh, it is,” I said, nodding.

  All three of them stared at me. I glanced around then realized none of them had a clue what I was talking about.

  “You don’t know who Jansmid is?” I said to Matkazeme.