My head was spinning with Chester’s theories. Then I thought of the one suspect he’d left out. “And Taxi?” I asked. “He’s too dumb to concoct a murder like this.” I didn’t like saying it about poor Taxi, but it was true. Chester didn’t agree.
“You don’t have to be a genius to murder, Harold. No, it isn’t Taxi’s intelligence that troubles me. It’s his strength. He’s a timid little fellow. I can’t imagine him holding Louise down long enough to …” Here Chester drifted off into thought. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.
“Unless …” he said excitedly. “If we change the method of murder … then …”
“Yes?”
“We know that Taxi is always buttering up to Max, right?”
“Right,” I agreed.
“And we know that his feelings were hurt yesterday when Max went off with Georgette instead of spending time with him. We also know he’d do anything to please Max to get back into his good graces.”
“But murder?” I asked. I couldn’t believe it of Taxi.
“Sure, why not? I was on the wrong track, don’t you see? If we believe that Louise was drowned, then Taxi is pretty much ruled out. He wouldn’t have the strength. And I doubt that he’d have the guts. But if the method of murder were less direct—if, for instance …” and he paused dramatically, “… Louise were poisoned—”
I felt a jolt go through me. “Chester!” I cried.
“What is it?”
“I just remembered something Taxi said yesterday. Max had just gotten through telling us how sometimes he thought he’d be better off without women.”
“Yes?”
“And Taxi told us about a television program he’d seen where a man, feeling the same way, murdered his wife.”
“And the method, Harold? What method did he use?”
“Poison.”
Chester and I sat very still for a moment. My gaze drifted to where I had seen Taxi sitting a few moments before. He was no longer there.
Could it be? I asked myself. Could Taxi have murdered Louise to please Max? What kind of warped mind existed within that peculiar little body of his?
I turned my head then and, much to my surprise, saw that Taxi was sitting a few feet away. He stared at me in such a cold way that I knew he’d heard every word Chester and I had said about him.
“Taxi!” I said, startled.
He didn’t respond, but continued to glare at me.
I swallowed hard and tried to speak again. “I … I’m …”
Taxi cut me off with a menacing growl, and before I could get another word past my lips, he turned and walked away.
“He heard …” I said then to Chester.
“Yes,” was all Chester said in reply. But there was something in the way he said it that sent a shiver down my spine.
Chapter 6 - The Cat Who Knew Too Much
WITHOUT warning, the sky opened and the rain came down. Lyle and Taxi ran for the shelter of their bungalows. Georgette ran to Max’s, and he made no sign for her to leave. Interesting, I thought. Even more interesting was the fact that I was sitting in the middle of a pouring rain watching everyone else run for cover.
“Come on, Chester,” I called out, “let’s go.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he shouted back. “Now is the perfect time for us to investigate.”
“Perfect time?” I asked. “Investigate? Are you crazy? It’s pouring.”
“I know, I know. But Max and Georgette are together, and if we’re clever about it, we can eavesdrop on them without their noticing. Follow me.” I didn’t budge. I couldn’t believe Chester wanted to play detective in the middle of a storm. I was all set to return to my bungalow, but the next words he spoke got me.
“If not for me,” he said, “do it for Louise.”
As we approached Max’s bungalow, Chester stopped and beckoned for me to bend down. He whispered, “If we could get up on the roof, we could lean over and hear everything. Give me a boost.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I asked. But Chester had already jumped up on my shoulders and from there to the top of the bungalow. “Oh,” I said in answer to my own question. Seeing that I had no one’s shoulders to assist me, I had little choice but to take a running leap.
“Softly!” Chester commanded as I landed next to him with a crash. “Nice move,” he commented.
“I’m not as quiet as you are, Chester,” I said. “I can’t help it. I’m big.”
“And clumsy! Well, never mind. If they heard us, I’ll just go ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ and tell them Christmas is early this year.”
We hung over the front of the bungalow, listening as best we could. The rain was coming down even harder now, making it almost impossible to hear what was being said inside. We couldn’t see anything either because the door was just a little lower than either of us could reach with our heads.
“Listen,” Chester said in a low voice, “I’ve got to get closer. If you hold me with your front legs, I’ll be able to hang down to the top of the door and hear and see what’s going on inside.”
Well, I wasn’t sure this was such a good idea, but as you may have figured out for yourself by now, once Chester has a notion in his head, there’s no arguing him out of it. I held onto his back legs with my paws and lowered him to the front door. His tail brushed against my nose. It tickled.
“Chester,” I whispered as loudly as I could, “move your tail.”
“What?” he whispered back.
“Move your tail. It’s tickling my nose.”
“I can’t hear you, Harold. Now be quiet. I think I can make out what they’re saying in there. Lower me a little more.”
I pushed myself forward an inch or two in order to lower Chester. With the rain coming down the way it was, the roof was getting pretty slippery and I didn’t dare go much further.
“How’s that?” I called out.
Chester couldn’t hear me, so he didn’t answer. Apparently it had worked though because I could see that his ears were standing up sharply, a good sign that he was able to hear something. Whatever he was hearing must have been good because his tail started twitching like crazy. Unfortunately, it was twitching like crazy all over my nose.
“Stop it!” I cried, as the tears started rolling down my face. Boy, did that tickle. “Chester! Chester!” I called out. But by now the rain was really coming down, and he couldn’t hear a word I said. No matter which way I turned my head, Chester’s tail found my nose. “Chester, you’re making me laugh,” I cried out desperately. I could feel myself starting to slip off the roof.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. Without realizing what I was doing, I let go of Chester’s legs and grabbed his tail. He plunged downward, pulling me with him. Off the slippery roof I tumbled, holding Chester tightly by the tail. Together we landed in a jumble right in front of the door to the bungalow. Max and Georgette turned to discover us lying in a puddle at their doorstep.
“Look, Max,” Georgette said, “it’s rainin’ cats and dogs.” She seemed to get quite a chuckle out of that, but Max hushed her immediately.
“Georgette, how can you laugh at a time like this?”
“But, sugar—”
“Enough now,” he said emphatically. “Be still.”
Chester glanced at me knowingly.
“So,” Max said, turning to us, “to what do we owe the pleasure of your—shall we say, unexpected—company?
“We were just in the neighborhood, so we thought we’d drop in,” Chester replied smartly. I was impressed by the quickness of his wit. I tried to think of a quick comeback, too, but it takes me a while to think of quick comebacks. By the time I was ready, Chester had already strolled into the bungalow, casually shaking out the rain from his hair as he went. I followed his lead, but when I shook the rain out of my hair, there was nothing casual about it.
“Harold, sugar,” Georgette cried, “you’re makin’ it rain indoors.”