“So all you’ve got so far is circumstantial evidence. Nothing concrete.”
Both Chase and Odelia gave the chief of police a sheepish look.
“So what about these stiletto heels? You searched all the rooms?”
“We did. But so far we haven’t found them. Or the murder weapon.”
“Okay, so what about your theory that somehow Gavin Droba is involved? That he had a sex change operation and is one of the guests of his sister-in-law?”
“Gavin Droba died three years ago, Chief, so that’s a dead end, I’m afraid.”
The Chief slammed the desk with a meaty fist, causing us all to jump.“I don’t believe this. You’ve arrested two people, looked at a dozen others, and so far you’ve got absolutely nothing to show for it? I want results, people, results! And I want them yesterday! I’ve got the mayor breathing down my neck—”
“That’s not such a hardship, is it, Chief?” said Chase with a grin. But his boss wasn’t having it.
“Look, just get me Isobel’s killer, will you?” He was eyeing his niece when he said this. “Don’t make me regret putting you on this case, Odelia. I get enough flak as it is for adding a civilian to my team. Don’t prove the naysayers right.”
“I won’t, Uncle Alec,” said Odelia. “I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, honey,” he warned.
She put on a brave face.“We’ll get Isobel’s killer.” She glanced down at me.
“And don’t look at your damn cat!” Uncle Alec cried. “Since when is a cat in charge of a murder inquiry in my town? It’s unnatural! Not to mention illegal! If people found out…” He shook his grizzled head. “Just catch me that killer. Before I lose the rest of my hair.”
[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]
“Uncle Alec didn’t seem very happy, did he, Max?” said Dooley.
“No, he most certainly did not,” I agreed.
“Why is it illegal for a cat to run a murder inquiry, Max?”
“Probably because we don’t have the necessary credentials.”
“What credentials?”
“Well, we didn’t go to the police academy, did we? We didn’t get the badge.”
“I didn’t even know cats could go to the police academy.”
“We can’t. Police academy is for humans only.”
“Too bad. I bet we’d make excellent recruits.”
It was unorthodox, of course, for a cat to assist in a murder inquiry, but from my point of view I was simply trying to help. And if Uncle Alec didn’t appreciate my assistance, I could always abandon my post and leave things as they were.
But once we were back in the car it became apparent that my assistance was still very much appreciated, for Odelia turned to me and asked,“Any ideas, Max? Anything we’re missing?”
“It’s Rocamora, isn’t it?” said Chase. “Somehow he’s bamboozling us.”
“Frankly I have no idea,” I said. “At this point it could be anyone, as far as I can tell. It could be Jason Rocamora, it could be Bereng?ria Morat?, or it could be some unknown burglar who just happened to pick Isobel’s room to burgle that night, and Isobel was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Though the fact that the killer had carried out such a frenzied attack with a stiletto heel seemed to contradict that particular possibility. That attack seemed personal to me. And also, a house-to-house hadn’t revealed anything suggesting an active burglar.
“We need to have another crack at the Morat? woman,” said Chase. “Though now that she’s lawyering up, she’s unlikely to give us anything.”
“She’s obviously read Isobel’s manuscript,” said Odelia.
“Which suggests she’s the one who took the laptop.”
And as we all chewed on the different possibilities, I wondered about the people still locked up in the house. Maybe it was time to let them go now.
CHAPTER 38
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
The arrest of Bereng?ria had thrown Michele’s perfectly ordered life out of whack, or at least the parts of her life that the murder of Isobel hadn’t upended. She still had a house full of guests, who needed to be fed, and she had no idea how to go about it. So when Marge and Vena offered to help prepare dinner, she gratefully accepted. The ladies descended on the kitchen, and started looking through cupboards and checking the fridge preparatory to deciding what to cook for dinner.
“I heard the police discovered that Gavin died,” said Marge as she stood chopping onions, while Michele sniffed from a container filled with a viscous red substance. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Michele.”
“Thanks,” said Michele warmly, appreciating her friend’s kind words. “It wasn’t the police who found Gavin, though, but a private investigator my niece Alison hired.” Alison had always been anxious to find her dad, and now that she had finally succeeded, hopefully she would find some peace knowing he died happy. Or at least successful, operating a chain of restaurants in Belize, of all places.
“You know, I was thinking that maybe your sister-in-law was right after all,” said Vena, engaged in washing and picking apart a head of lettuce in the sink. “Maybe secrets are corrosive, and should be brought out into the open. I mean, I told some people about my biggest secret today, and it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”