On the walk over to the park, Harriet told us some more about what had happened at the mall that day. After the police had released the crime scene, the mall had quickly reopened for business, and even Omar Wissinski had reopened his shop.
“He was very sad, though,” said Harriet.
“Yeah, he looked white as a sheet,” said Brutus.
“I don’t think he’s fully recovered from that knock on the head. In fact he probably should have stayed home in bed—or the hospital to have his head looked at.”
“Scarlett thinks he has a concussion, which is why he’s been acting so strange.”
“Strange, how?” I asked.
“Well, today his mother came in again, and they argued about Argyle.”
“His brother?”
Brutus nodded.“His younger brother. Looks like he and Omar don’t get along.”
“Omar has a really hard time,” said Harriet. “Three of his best friends are dead now, and he almost died, too.”
“He’s scared they’ll come back to finish the job,” Brutus clarified. “So he’s hired a security guard.”
“A security guard?” I asked.
“Yeah. He arrived this morning, and stayed posted at the door all day. Just like you see in jewelry stores.”
“But Omar is afraid he’ll scare away the customers, so he hopes Chase will arrest Dominic Careen soon.”
“So he thinks Dominic is behind these murders, too, does he?”
“Yeah, either Dominic or the gambling mafia. Though what are the odds that three of Omar’s friends had gambling debts?”
“It’s possible, of course,” I said. “It’s not because they’re rich that they’re not also gamblers. A lot of people these days gamble online, which has lowered the threshold and has removed the social stigma associated with gambling. If you visit a casino, someone might see you, or snap your picture. But if you gamble online, from the safety of your own home, there’s nobody to name and shame you, and it has made the gambling industry go through a real boom.”
“I don’t know,” said Harriet. “I still think it’s Dominic Careen and his son who are behind all of this. It takes a lot of strength to make a car crash down on a person, or to turn a person into a papier-m?ch? statue, or even to turn him into a display figure, like in Joel Timperley’scase. Has Chase figured out how they killed Mr. Timperley yet?”
“Yeah, they found blood in his office and in the elevator. And the big model of the Keystone Mall was crushed and also had blood on it. So it looks like Joel was killed there, and then taken down to the atrium to be strung up as part of the new Zeus movie display.”
“It’s all so, so terrible,” said Harriet. “And I, for one, hope they’ll catch the killer before he kills Sergio Sorbet. That man is so…” She was going to say more, but caught Brutus’s eye and wisely swallowed her next words.
We’d arrived at the park, and made our way to the playground, which is our domain by night. Most cats had decided to show up, with only a few scared off by the impending storm. I made a beeline for Shanille, eager to consult with her.
“Hey, Max,” she said, looking busy. She probably had been thinking up new songs for her choir to interpret. “How is the investigative business going? Catch any killers lately?”
“Not really,” I said. “We’re three murders in, and not a clue as to the killer or killers.”
“Oh?” she said, a little distracted as she surveyed her troops. “Looks like some of our members have decided to skip tonight’s rehearsal,” she said censoriously.
“Yeah, I guess they don’t want to get caught in the storm.”
“What storm?”
I pointed up, where the tree branches were swaying in a powerful wind and the night had turned fully pitch black by now.“That storm.”
“Oh, that. Just a little wind, that’s all. Your true cat choir enthusiast doesn’t let that deter him from his true passion. Now you were saying something about your case?”
“Yeah, three people have been killed so far, but the evidence is pointing in different directions.” And so I explained to her about the difficult case we were dealing with.
“Well, it’s obvious who’s behind this, isn’t it?” she said finally, after hearing me out.
“It is?” I said, much surprised. Was it possible I’d overlooked the obvious?
“God is striking down these men,” said Shanille, as if it was the most logical thing.
“God?” I asked, and inadvertently my eyes slid upward to the sky above, where presumably the Big Man was looking down on us mere felines.
“Of course! They’re all confirmed bachelors, you say? Refusing to get married?”
“Yes, all except—”
“So of course the good Lord would strike them down, setting an example.” She eyed me with a look of amusement. “You can’t expect to go against God’s will and not suffer the consequences, Max. It simply doesn’t work like that.”
“But one of them—”
“Of course God didn’tpersonally set out to kill them. But one of his servants did. So you have to look for a person or persons who firmly believes that every man and woman should be joined in holy matrimony, and if they don’t? Well, they brought it on themselves, didn’t they?”
“That’s a pretty harsh view,” I said, after giving this novel theory some thought.
“It’s the only possible explanation. And now you’ll have to excuse me, Max. I have to get this unruly bunch in line for tonight’s rehearsal!”
As she did just that, I wondered about her words. There was of course one fatal flaw in her reasoning: one man had indeed decided to engage in holy matrimony. Dunc Hanover had been on the verge of the married state, and he, too, had been struck down.
So not the wrath of God after all?
Dooley had joined me.“Looks like it’s going to rain, Max,” he said nervously. “Maybe we should go. I hate to get wet. I really do.”
“All cats hate to get wet, Dooley,” I said. Just then, the first big drop of rain fell down, right on top of my nose. Yikes!
“It’s raining, Max!” my friend cried.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I grunted, and then we made a straight line for the nearest tree, which would give us some protection at least. And as we sheltered there, soon more cats joined us, and also under the other trees surrounding the playground.
Shanille wasn’t deterred, though. Shouting to make herself heard over the sound of the pounding rain and the wind that had picked up, she screamed, “Let’s not let a little bit of rain stop us from doing what is in fact our holy mission, people! Let’s sing our hearts out, my fellow friends! And take it from the top!”
So she held up her arms just so, and then we all launched into a rather unenthusiastic rendition of‘Raindrops keep falling on my head.’ It seemed particularly appropriate.
Chapter 26
Odelia had been sleeping more or less peacefully, when a deep voice raised her from her slumber. It was Chase, and he accompanied his words with a gentle shake.
“What is it?” she muttered sleepily.
“Just got a call,” said her husband, looking just as sleepy as she did.
“God, not another murder!” she said, instantly wide awake.
“The fire department, actually,” said Chase. “Something about cats in a tree.”
Her eyes flashed to the foot of the bed, and when she saw that Max and Dooley weren’t there, her heart skipped a beat. “Let’s go,” she said, and immediately swung her feet from under the duvet.
It was chilly out, and as they drove over to the park, where the person who’d called Chase had directed them, she wrapped her jacket more closely around herself.
“I hope they’re all right,” she said.
“I’m sure they are fine,” Chase reassured her. “They’re cats. They always land on their feet.”
“Hm,” she said quietly, sinking a little deeper in her seat. This whole murder business was starting to take its toll on her. Especially the fact that they didn’t seem to be getting any closer to identifying the killer. Pressure was mounting, but there were only so many hours in the day, and already they were using all of them to trace this elusive killer.