Murder at the Ostrich Farm

by London Lovett

  I saved her the ordeal of having to relay the story. "Yes, we saw the whole thing. Mrs. Freemont-Keeler made such an ordeal about what was obviously an accidental touch. We felt very badly for Paul, especially when it seemed he was just trying to keep her from hurting herself."

  "I admired the way Paul kept so calm about it all," Jasper interjected. "I don't think I could have held my temper like that."

  Ruby smiled to herself. "Yes, Paul is a kind man and never volatile. Unfortunately, nearly everyone in the vicinity witnessed the horribly embarrassing moment and many were quick to point it out to the police. They decided that was motive enough." Her voice got wavy. She pressed a hand to her chest to calm herself. "After the incident at the cart, Paul got a terrible headache. The doctor says it's his eyes, but you know how young men feel about wearing glasses."

  "Not me," Jasper chimed in. "I can't wait to get a monocle to hang from my coat pocket." He held an invisible one to his eye and squinted shut the other eye. "Makes you look important."

  I cleared my throat to let him know he was done with his monocle monologue.

  "Paul had a headache . . ." I said to remind her where she'd left off.

  "Yes, so he went to his bunk to lie down. He said he fell asleep and woke when he heard sirens pulling up to the farm." Ruby scooted forward. "I know this is just me grasping at theories, but after Mrs. Freemont had made the scene with Paul, I walked her inside the office to get her a drink and help her calm down. Instead, she turned on her husband and humiliated him, calling him a coward for not stepping in to protect her honor. Everyone in the office building heard her. She bellowed angrily at him for a few agonizing minutes. The poor man just clutched his hat against his stomach and shrank in on himself. It was terribly cruel. It sure seems to me that Mr. Keeler had motive too."

  "And it wasn't the first time," I said. "I witnessed the woman cut down the man and stomp all over his self-esteem inside your shop. She was just as brutal then. In fact, I think you were there, helping her."

  "Yes, I haven't forgotten," Ruby said. "She was monstrous to him then as well."

  I glanced down at my scant notes. "You said Paul went to his bunk. Where is that located?"

  "I'm sure you noticed the big barn on the east side of the property. We use it for the animals, if it's too cold or wet or one of them is not getting along with the others they are sheltered in the barn. Arthur Jones, our farm supervisor, has his office out there along with a string of small bunks for the farmhands. Most of them stay at the farm because it's cheaper and more convenient. Plus, someone has to always be watching over the flock."

  "Yes, that makes sense. So Paul walked back to his bunk to alleviate his headache. Did anyone see him?"

  "Paul told the police he was sleeping in his bunk the entire time. Unfortunately, they couldn't find one witness to back up his story. Everyone was working, and Saturday was a particularly busy day. Now that the children are off for summer, the weekend crowds are enormous."

  I finished writing down what she said. "Yes, there were a lot of people. As you pointed out, it's only a theory, but I'm curious to know just where Mildred's husband went after the incident at the ostrich cart. Also, I noticed Mildred's son had come along for the day. I believe she was meeting a woman's club at the farm."

  "Yes, they were nearly inconsolable. Naturally." Ruby opened her purse. "I suppose you'll need a deposit for the work." She stopped and peered up at me with a pleading look. "Will you take the case? I don't know where else to go. The police believe they already have their man, but I know in my heart they are wrong."

  "Of course, Miss Dawson, Jasper and I are happy to take the case. Now I'll need access to the farm, preferably at times when there are no visitors."

  "You can come this afternoon. We've closed down for a few days," Ruby blurted, then sat back. "I'm sorry, you probably have other cases to work on."

  "Nope, we're—" Jasper started, but I shot him an admonishing look.

  "What Jasper means is that we just happen to have a free day today. So we'll be there." I didn't relish the long journey back and forth to Pasadena, but it seemed there would be no way around it. "We'll take care of the deposit later, Miss Dawson."

  "That's great. Then I'll see you at the farm." She stood up. Jasper rose like an old man out of his chair to walk her to the door. Ruby looked back at me. "I hope you can help, Miss Starfire. Otherwise, I don't know what I'll do."

  I was slightly tongue tied as the weight of it all suddenly fell on my shoulders. I smiled and nodded my good-bye.

  Jasper opened the door for her, grimacing with every move. He shut the door and turned around, ready to cheer but stopped short of any wild movement.

  "You should be great help today," I said. "Just wait until you have to sit on the trolley for the hour ride to Pasadena."

  He moved his shoulders in a circle. "I'll loosen up soon. But you know, I was gonna say, while you were talking about the husband and son, I remembered that I saw them at the races. They were sitting in some VIP seats, you know, up front, with the best view."

  I stared down at my scarce notes. "I suppose that cuts them both out of the suspect list then."

  "Not necessarily." He shuffled back to his desk. It seemed loosening up was still a ways off. "They were only there for the first race. Walter Keeler left right after. I think his bird lost. He didn't look too pleased. Then, the son got up just before the second race started."

  "Did you see where they went?"

  "Nah, I was too focused on the race. I just noticed cuz they were sitting in those front row seats, and they were two of the only people who left early."

  I wrote down what Jasper relayed about the races and stared down at the notebook. "Well then, Inspector Starfire, it seems we have a murder to solve."

  Chapter Thirteen

  After sitting in a shimmying, wobbly Red Car for the hour long stop and go journey to the Dawson farm, Jasper was nearly hunched over from pain as he stood up from the seat.

  "That's it. I'll never, ever play football with a team of gorillas again," he said it loud enough to let the few people nearby, who had been watching him with some concern, know exactly why an eighteen-year-old was walking as if he was ninety.

  "I should have done this alone," I muttered as we made our way to the exit. "You're more of a handicap than a help at this point."

  We stepped onto the platform into the hot sun. The early morning cloud residue had burned off hours before, and it was shaping up to be a beautiful summer day. Much of Pasadena was farms and, more specifically, orange groves. The scent of citrus blossoms seemed to circle around us as we headed toward the farm entrance. I kept my notebook tucked under my arm and pressed my hat down on my head to keep it from flying off in the breeze coming down from the San Gabriel Mountains.

  After a few minutes of walking, my shuffling partner stood much straighter and picked up to a normal pace. "See, already as good as new," Jasper boasted.

  "Thank goodness because we both need to give our full attention to this case. I think it's going to be a tricky one, considering the evidence pointed directly to Paul Wilkins."

  Jasper pulled his sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. "What if the police are right? What if Wilkins is the killer? How is that going to work out for our client?"

  "That would definitely throw in an unwanted twist. It wouldn't be great for business either. I don't think we could count on Miss Dawson recommending us to others if we end up only confirming the case for the police. Still, it's a possibility. Let's just hope we can uncover something that leads us in a different direction."

  We reached the tall blue arch with white lettering that let visitors know they'd reached Dawson's Ostrich Farm. It was easy enough to stroll right under the arch, but we were quickly stopped by an employee at the front gate.

  "Hello, we are here to see Ruby Dawson," I said. "She's expecting us."

  The guy didn't look too sure. He stared at Jasper just long enough that I worried my brother would
ask what the heck he was lookin' at. But Jasper kept quiet. His lack of fighting spirit probably had more to do with the physical pain hampering his movements than self-control.

  "I'll go see if I can find Miss Dawson." He peeled himself reluctantly away from the gate. At the pace he was moving, it seemed we'd be standing at the gate for a good long while. Fortunately, Ruby came around the corner and spotted us.

  "Fred, it's all right. Let them in," she called.

  "Yes, Miss Dawson." Fred opened the gate and waved us through.

  Ruby looked far better than she had this morning, more color in her cheeks and the pinkness around her eyes and nose had cleared. She had a rosy red silk scarf draped around her neck.

  "I love that scarf," I said, because I really did love it.

  She pushed the long end back over her shoulder. "Thank you so much. It was a gift from Paul."

  "He has nice taste for a man," I said.

  "Hey, watch it," Jasper said. "Some of us blokes are stylish, you know?"

  Ruby smiled. "It's strange but I could swear I heard the slightest British accent just now when you spoke, Mr. Starfire."

  Jasper nodded and poured on the cockney accent. "That ya did, Miss Dawson."

  She looked thoroughly confused, then her eyes rounded. "Oh my, I thought you were brother and sister. I didn't realize you were husband and wife."

  Jasper made the same gagging sound he made when he saw someone wretch or cut themselves.

  Ruby was again perplexed and stumbling for something to say.

  I patted her arm. "We are brother and sister. Jasper is adopted." I elbowed his stomach for his rude reaction, completely forgetting how sore he was.

  He grabbed his stomach and grimaced with a forced smile. "Yep, brother and sister till the day we die," he said through clenched teeth.

  "You are both lucky," Ruby said as she led us toward the farm. "I'm an only child. My mother died when I was three, and father never remarried. This farm kept him too busy. I always wanted a sibling because of loneliness but also because then my father could have shared some of his constant worry and meddling with sisters and brothers." She pressed her fingers to her mouth. "Sorry, don't know what came over me. I guess it's just the stress of the past few days." Ruby stopped long before we reached the office building. She glanced around, seemingly to make sure everyone was out of earshot. "My father is not at the farm today. He had business to take care of. While he didn't say so directly, I'm sure he went to see his lawyer. He's very worried about the backlash from this terrible event. As far as he's concerned, Paul is guilty," she said rather flippantly as if they'd already had a good spat over it. "Which makes it even worse for the reputation of our farm. We're hoping we can recover our good standing with the community. I don't like to brag but our farm brings a great deal of tourism to town, which, in turn, brings a lot of business. Hotels, restaurants, shops, they all benefit from this farm."

  "That makes a great deal of sense," I said. "Will we be able to talk to Mr. Dawson at another time? I'd like to get his perspective on the day."

  Ruby's mouth straightened in a worried frown. "That's what I'd like to talk to you about. If it's not too much trouble, can we keep our arrangement secret from my father? Just until I get a chance to tell him what I've done." Her mouth pulled down more. "As I mentioned, my father was very displeased when I started seeing Paul. Like most fathers, he has big aspirations for his little girl, or, at least, that was his favorite defense. He knows Paul is a good worker, but my father can never see past social standings. He was from that time period, you know? I'm sure your father is the same."

  I looked at Jasper. We both shook our heads in response.

  "Doc's not like that. I mean Dad." Jasper was always quick to jump to Daddy's defense. He wouldn't stand for hearing one negative word about his hero.

  "Then you're lucky again," Ruby said. "My father seems to be stuck in the old Victorian patriarch era. He thinks he has a right to tell me who I can and cannot marry." She took a steadying breath. "Oh my, I sound like such a shrew. He's a good father. We just have our differences. I hate to say it though, but for my father, this entire calamity hasn't been all bad. If you know what I mean?"

  "I'm sure he wouldn't want an innocent man to spend his life in jail though," I said. "We'll be discreet and give you time to let him know that you've hired us." I took a look around. Some of the handlers were feeding the ostriches. Other employees were doing chores like sweeping and trimming shrubs that had taken over the walking paths. "I'd like to interview anyone who might have been working at the ostrich race. Jasper saw Mildred's husband and son there."

  "Sally was selling refreshments at the races. She's in the soda stand, cleaning up and getting things ready for when we reopen."

  "Yeah, I know Sally," Jasper piped up. "She's a real sweet—" I shot him a look, and he changed his thought midsentence. "She was very skilled at handing out sodas," he amended.

  "Yes, Sally is a wonderful girl. I'm sure she'll be happy to talk to you." Ruby shot Jasper a quick wink.

  "Also, before I forget, Miss Dawson," I said, "is there anyone who might know more about what the women from the San Gabriel Valley Woman's Club were up to before Mildred was discovered? I'm trying to find out what Mildred was doing after the incident at the ostrich cart."

  "Actually, yes, I know just the person. I appointed Sophie to help them while they had lunch. She carried out lemonades and teas and made sure they had everything they needed. I believe she's squeezing lemons. If you walk around to the back of the offices, there's a door marked kitchen. Just knock and someone will answer. Sophie has hair that's nearly the same copper color as yours, Miss Starfire. Such a pretty color, by the way."

  "Thank you. I love it one minute and hate it the next. Especially because it comes with freckles."

  "The freckles are lovely too, but I'm sure you tire of them just as I tire of the natural curl in my hair. I can't wear any of those sleek bob cuts because my hair refuses to cooperate."

  Jasper cleared his throat to let us know the hair complaint session should end.

  "Right then." I straightened my hat. "We're off to see Sally at the soda stand. Is it all right if I tell them why Jasper and I are here? It generally makes it easier to break the ice and get information."

  "Oh yes, that's fine. My father will be gone for most of the day. At any rate, the girls will have gone home by then. That'll give me time to work up the courage to tell him."

  We turned to walk away but she called to us before we took two steps. Her face had lost some of the glow it had when we were grousing about our hair. "Please, I hope you can find the true killer soon. I'm sure Paul is frightened. And he doesn't have enough money to hire a good lawyer. This is going to take a terrible toll on him."

  "Yes, of course. We'll work as fast as we can, Miss Dawson."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sally was a petite brunette who definitely seemed to have an eye for my brother. She practically fell over the front of the stand when she saw us walk up.

  "Jasper!" she said excitedly. "I didn't expect to see you here."

  Jasper shrugged nonchalantly and adjusted his sunglasses. "Yeah well, I'm here on investigative business."

  Sally shrieked. "How exciting. I thought there was more to you than just a guy watching ostrich races. I said to myself, Sally, that guy does some top secret job, maybe for the government or the police."

  "Or his sister," I interjected quickly before Jasper's head inflated more and floated away from his body.

  Sally blinked at me with big brown eyes. "You're his sister? Wow, you two don't look anything alike. I look just like my brother Billy. Wish I didn't. I hate it when people say you two look so much alike. I'm mean, who wants to look like their brother?"

  "Actually, Sally, if I may call you that," I started, hoping to stop her before we spent an hour listening to Sally's rationale and philosophies on life.

  "Sure, Sally is fine. What are you both investigating?" She sucked in a big
breath and put down the wet rag she was holding. "Does it have to do with that murder on Saturday?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone. "I still can't believe it. Paul, he's just like a big teddy bear. So kind, never angry. Can't believe he could kill someone."

  I shot Jasper a sideways glance. He seemed quite enamored with her rambling speeches. I was sure he wasn't hearing much past the words 'Jasper, I didn't expect to see you here'.

  "Yes, Jasper and I are here to investigate Mrs. Freemont-Keeler's murder. Miss Dawson told us we should speak with you."

  She pressed her hand to her chest. "Me? What can I say about it? I didn't even know the woman." She looked a little flustered. I realized I wasn't being clear.

  "We're trying to find out where Mrs. Freemont's husband and son were when she got—you know—when she died." Jasper was trying to be sensitive, but it was only confusing the poor girl.

  "Sally, we know you were selling refreshments during the races." I tilted my head toward Jasper. "That's when you two met. Jasper noticed that Mr. Keeler, the husband, and Mr. Freemont, the son, were sitting at the races."

  "Yes, I remember because they were sitting in the special seats. People pay extra for those. They are right up front at the finish line. We have to serve them first. But they weren't there very long."

  "Do you remember exactly what happened?" I took out my notebook and pen.

  "Sure, the boys run those races like clockwork. The first one starts exactly at one o'clock, and each race takes between four and five minutes, depending on which birds are running. If Harley is in the race, it usually ends in four because he's the fastest and he makes the other birds try harder. He's what you might call the 'cake eater' of the ostrich world. The lady ostriches tend to always follow him around, batting their lashes and shaking their tail feathers at him."

  Jasper laughed out loud at her narrative but stopped short when he realized a belly laugh was painful.

  I had to hold back a grin. "Guess the bird world isn't much different than ours," I said cheerily. I sensed the entire interview was going to be filled with off topic stories. "Now, if we could get back to the races. So the two men were sitting in the expensive seats for the first race at one o'clock. Did they order refreshments?"