“Good point,” Mom said. “People have short memories. Once this is all over then it won’t take them long to forget. Unless of course the movie producer wants to use the guesthouse as a movie set.”
What were the odds of that? Slim, I’d say. I was still hoping for a quick resolution and things to go back to pre-murder normal.
“I say the buckle is the key.” Millie walked down the sidewalk at a snail’s pace as we talked.
“Yeah, but no one was looking for a buckle,” Mom said.
Millie stopped in front of the candy store and turned to face Mom and me.“Not that we’ve foundso far.” Millie’s face took on a look of determination. “We’ll just have to keep looking. Meanwhile, I think we’d better take a closer look at our suspects and figure out who had the strongest motive to kill Madame Zenda.”
Twelve
“What do you think Josie is doing in the antique store?” Marlowe asked as they turned down a side alley that led to the docks and their ultimate destination of the bait wharf, where they would meet with the rest of the Oyster Cove cats. By now the cats would have heard about the murder and be working on the case. Nero figured Harry would bring Louie Two Paws, the Siamese cat that hung out at the police station. They were hoping to get a scoop on what the police knew about the investigation so far.
Nero glanced back over his shoulder. Catching Josie’s eye, he gave her a slight nod. “Must be about the buckle.”
“Looks like Josie’s catching on to this investigating thing. Maybe she won’t need our help after all,” Marlowe said.
Nero glanced at Marlowe, thinking she couldn’t possibly be serious, before the two cats let out a string of meows that indicated how hilarious the notion was. “Imagine that, the humans not needing our help!”
The cats turned down Ocean Avenue and then took another alley to the bait wharf. It was mid-morning, so most of the fishermen were out in their boats and the wharf was quiet, except for the slapping of waves against the side of the wooden docks and the cawing of gulls. Nero was trying to avoid the gulls. He glanced up to make sure one wasn’t swooping down on him as the delicious smell of rotting fish drew the two cats closer to their favorite secluded spot behind the large tuna scale that hung from a tall post.
The rest of the cats were already there. Juliette, the gray cat with a white diamond on her forehead, sat atop a stack of lobster traps, her fluffy gray tail dangling over the edge. Below her, Poe with his bright green eyes was finishing off the tail of a fish—haddock it looked like to Nero. Boots sat on another lobster trap, watching them approach with his usual superior manner. Truth be told, Boots and Nero had a bit of a rivalry going on, as they were both black with white markings. Nero, however, had the white tuxedo on his chest and Boots only had white on his paws. Nero figured that Boots felt inferior because of this and that’s why he acted so obnoxious.
Stubbs, the ginger cat, wiggled his stub of a tail and nodded at Nero and Marlowe. Beside him, Harry, the fluffy Maine Coon, picked a burr off his tail. Fluffy tails were nice for show, but they did tend to collect all kinds of burrs and twigs and could easily become painfully matted.
Louie Two Paws, a sleek seal-point Siamese, lounged in a patch of sun. His paws were splayed out in front of him and the extra toes made it look like he was wearing furry mittens. The velvety brown points of his ears matched the mask on his face, which highlighted his extraordinary sapphire blue eyes.
“Hey, Louie, how’s it going?” Nero asked as he plopped down beside Stubbs.
“Going pretty good.” Louie licked one of his paws. He was always doing that to call attention to their uniqueness. Apparently this impressed the female felines. “I was just telling the others that I got into the evidence room and sniffed the evidence. The murder weapon didn’t have any unique identifying scents on it, but that buckle was interesting.”
“How so?” Nero asked.
“That thing is old as the hills.”
“So it’s not a replica that someone picked up to make it seem like it was Jed’s?” Marlowe asked.
Louie shook his head.“Nope. That thing has to be about three hundred years old. It smells like antique molasses and old regrets. No fingerprints on the murder weapon. The note, of course, was not blood. Drippy red ink.”
“Of course,” Nero said. He’d thought he’d smelled as much on the body, but couldn’t be sure with the actual blood smell from the wound.
“And what information doyou have?” Poe preened his long curly whiskers fastidiously as he addressed Nero. “Have you set your superior intellect into figuring out if the killer is one of the guests at the guesthouse?”
“Yeah, seems like one of those kooky guests would be the perp.” Harry liked to use old detective slang. His human was an older gentleman and liked to read Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler aloud to the cat. Apparently he’d picked up the lingo.
“Well, they sure are kooky.” Nero couldn’t argue with the other cat’s assessment.
“And they did seem to be in competition to see who could talk to Jed’s ghost. However, we have an inside scoop about that.” Marlowe puffed up proudly.
Juliette raised a brow.“Do tell.”
Marlowe’s tail swished back and forth and her tone took on an air of importance. “We talked to Jedediah Biddeford’s ghost himself. Turns out he hasn’t spoken to any of them.”
“Not even Madame Zenda?” Poe asked.
“Nope, she made it up.”
“Humans always confound me,” Harry said. “Why would anyone lie about talking to a ghost?”
Juliette hopped down from the lobster trap, her pads making a soft thud as she landed on the wharf. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she causally said,“Maybe it has something to do with the movie.”
“Movie?” Boots must have been surprised at that news because he lost his grip on the whiskers he’d been grooming and they sprung back into a tight curl. He quickly set about smoothing them again.
Juliette fluffed her tail.“Yes, a producer was in to talk with Father Tim about a movie he wants to produce about Jed’s ghost and the treasure. He wanted to set some of the scenes in the church and cemetery.”
“Why would they set scenes in the church?” Stubbs asked.
Juliette shrugged.“Who knows? At first, Father Tim didn’t like the whole idea. He felt it was sacrilegious, but then the producer mentioned the donation to St. Michael’s could be quite hefty. Apparently a movie like this would make a lot of money.”
“Ahhh, money.” Boots started pacing. “It’s usually the root of the crime. That explains why all these psychics are really here. They must have gotten wind of the movie and wanted to reap the rewards. Madame Zenda lied so she could be the one in the spotlight.”
“And someone else wanted to make sure she didn’t get it, so they offed her,” Stubbs said.
“But it might not be one of the guests,” Nero pointed out. “Anita Pendragon has been lurking around the place too.”
“And she was the first one to discover the body,” Marlowe added.
“The director did say it could make any of the people involved very famous.” Juliet trotted over to a lobster trap and poked around inside for any scraps of bait that might be left.
“People?” Marlowe’s eyes narrowed. “What about cats? We’re the ones that Jed is actually talking to!”
“Don’t be silly, cats never get credit. But if they did have cats they would use feline actors just like they use human actors for people.” Juliette fluffed up her tail to its fullest. Nero thought it looked like a long gray toilet brush, but Juliette claimed that her fluffy tail was a sign of delicate beauty. “They try to choose cats that have a certain aesthetic appeal. I was thinking I could play Nero if I get discovered. I tried to call attention to myself by jumping on the producer’s lap and fluffing my tail in his face but all he did was sneeze and shoo me away.”