“You’re correct, sir,” said Chase. “But we’ve checked Robbie’s phone records and also his bank statements, and didn’t find anything that raises a red flag.”
“At least tell me he saw the killer enter the flat after Jeff Felfan?”
But Odelia shook her head.“Says he left when he saw Jeff walk in. He googled the address, discovered it was an escort service, and was so excited to give Steph the news that her husband was a whoremonger he couldn’t wait to get back to the winery. Only when he got there he couldn’t find Steph, and by the time he did, Jeff’s body had already been discovered so he figured he’d better keep his mouth shut about his little expedition, so as not to draw suspicion to himself.”
The Chief sighed.“Dead end after dead end. Tell me some good news, please?”
“Kevin Stewart,” said Odelia. “He’s been eluding us. And according to Steph he’s been acting really strange lately.”
“Go on.”
“We’re still trying to get hold of him, but we saw his car parked in the Kosinski driveway, which is odd, since the Stewarts and the Kosinskis aren’t on speaking terms.”
“So what was he doing at the Kosinski place?” said the Chief, nodding. “If he keeps giving you the slip, have him picked up. Obstructing a police investigation. That should make him more cooperative. Right. Anything else I need to know?”
“No, that’s it,” said Odelia. “For now.”
“Not much, but something at least,” said her uncle. “So talk to Jeff’s colleague. Check his alibi for the time of the murder. Talk to Kevin Stewart. Find out what he’s up to. And keep digging, people. Get me some results—pronto!”
“Yes, Chief,” said Chase dutifully.
“And now get lost,” grunted Uncle Alec, and for some reason he looked at me when he spoke these words!
Once we’d left the office, Dooley said, “I get the impression that Uncle Alec doesn’t like us very much, Max.”
“I’m sure he loves us,” I said. “It’s just that he has a strange way of showing it.” Though secretly I was starting to think that maybe Dooley was right. This would be odd, in a family of cat people like the man’s mother, sister and niece. Then again, maybe that was exactly the reasonhe didn’t like us—sometimes too much of a good thing can be a bad thing, and Uncle Alec had certainly been exposed to cats a lot in his lifetime.
“So now what?” asked Dooley.
“Now we go home,” I said. Frankly I was starving. All this running around and talking to people left and right—and nobody had thought of giving us something to eat! I mentioned this to Dooley, who wholeheartedly agreed.
“Maybe we should ask Uncle Alec to officially deputize us,” my friend suggested. “That way people can’t ignore us, and have to feed us.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that wherever Odelia and Chase went, they got offered food and drink—even whole crates of wine in Beniamino Kosinski’s case! But they never thought twice about giving two poor starving creatures like us the time of day.
“I don’t think Uncle Alec would like the idea,” I said, and that was putting it mildly.
“Or Odelia should keep a small plastic container of food in the car for emergencies,” said Dooley.
“Now that’s a good idea,” I said. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
And so we made up our mind to mention the idea to Odelia on the first occasion.“We could even suggest several containers,” Dooley went on, happy that I had taken to his idea with such fervor and enthusiasm. “Different types of kibble, you know, and also some wet food. She could create an entire picnic menu.”
I wasn’t sure she would go for it, but the idea definitely had merit, and my stomach, which was rumbling freely, felt exactly the same way!
Which gave me an idea.“Let’s drop by Kingman,” I suggested. Kingman always has some decent grub to share, since his human owns the General Store.
And while Chase got busy typing up yet another report, and Odelia another article, Dooley and I walked the short distance from the police office to Main Street, where we hoped to satisfy our appetite and tide us over until dinner.
CHAPTER 32
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Only when we got there no food seemed to be forthcoming. Of the usual bowls located underneath the crates of fruits and veggies there was not a single trace—and neither, it turned out, of Kingman himself!
“Where is Kingman?” asked Dooley, who had noticed the same thing. Then his eyes went wide. “Oh, no. Maybe he’s gone without a trace, just like Shanille!”
“Shanille wasn’t actually gone, Dooley,” I reminded him. “She simply followed her human into the woods, to keep an eye on him just in case he was off his rocker. Which, as it turns out, he was.”
“So where is he?” asked Dooley, glancing left and right. “He’s always here. Never leaves his post.”
“I’m sure he does, if only to have a wee.”
Dooley laughed at this.“I’m sorry. It’s just that I was picturing Kingman in a litter box. I don’t think they actually make litter boxes big enough for him.”