Though the same went for Gary Rapp, of course.
“Okay, so as far as the others are concerned,” said Odelia, checking her notes, “Deith Madison was home alone—which we need to check. Natalie Ferrara was home with her brother—at least according to the brother. I haven’t managed to get a hold of her. Tom Mitchell was home with his family.” She looked up with a smile of amusement. “His mom went to great lengths to explain how she’s a light sleeper and would have heard if Tom left the house at any point last night.”
“And the same applies to Danny, I suppose,” said Chase.
“Is he a suspect?” asked Uncle Alec.
“Not really,” said Odelia. “Unless he felt so bad for his cousin that he would go out and murder his boss. Which seems unlikely.”
“Agreed,” said the Chief.
“Okay, so we have Doris Booth, whose dog Froufrou confirms she was home all night.”
“Froufrou,” the Chief murmured, shaking his head. “If anyone heard us, they’d think we’re crazy.”
“Another pet called Joey, a miniature Brussels Griffon, confirmed that Ona Konpacka didn’t leave her apartment,” she continued, ignoring her uncle’s groans of dismay. She flipped through her notes. “Um… So we need to talk to Deith again, and confirm her alibi, maybe by talking to one ofher servants, which I assume she has—she denied knowing about the pregnancy, but I’m pretty sure she was lying. And then there’s Howard White.”
“The Howard White?” asked Chase, sitting up a little straighter.
“I’m surprised you’ve heard of Howard White,” said Odelia, amused.
“I’m a New Yorker born and bred, babe. Of course I’ve heard of Howard White. The guy is a national treasure.”
“He was seen rowing with Michael Madison in the latter’s office a couple of days ago. Something about a bad review of the man’s latest collection. Madison personally wrote that review, and Mr. White was not amused, to say the least.”
“So we’ll have to go and talk to the guy,” said Chase.
“Do it first thing tomorrow,” the Chief suggested. “The sooner we can put this case to rest, the better. I’m already starting to get calls from people wanting to know why my niece is going round claiming Madison’s death wasn’t suicide.”
Odelia grimaced.“I’m sorry, Uncle Alec. I know you told me not to mention it.”
“That’s fine. We need to get people talking, and if that’s the way to do it, so be it.” He slapped his desk. “So. Suspects, people?”
Odelia shared a look with her husband.“For my money I’d say Gary Rapp, Deith Madison, or Wayne Piscina.”
“Agreed,” said Chase. “And let’s add Howard White as a possible suspect, pending our interview with the guy. And let’s not rule out Natalie Ferrara, if her brother is really as flaky as you say he is.”
“He is.”
“And we’ll scratch Doris Booth, Ona Konpacka and the Mitchells. Okay?”
The trio were in agreement, and so the meeting was adjourned.
“Too bad these other suspects don’t have pets,” said Dooley. “They could have confirmed their alibis, too. Which just goes to show it’s always a good idea to have a pet.”
“I like your thinking, Dooley,” I said.
“So what’s going on with my sister?” asked Uncle Alec. “Is she still upset with Tex about those letters?”
“I think Marge is ready to forgive and forget,” said Chase. “After all, it wasn’t entirely his fault. In fact it may have been me who put out that box.”
“You did this?” asked Odelia.
“It’s possible. Though if I did, I had no idea how important the box was.”
“They’ll work it out,” said Odelia. “They always do.”
“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that your dad didn’t do it on purpose,” said Uncle Alec.
“Just a case of Tex being Tex,” said Chase with a grin.
[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]
Marge, who’d had a long day at the library, arrived home feeling tired and in a bad mood. More people had showed up wanting to know about those letters. Turns out several people had taken pictures of the letters they had found in their mailboxes and had started sharing them on social media. And now all of a sudden it felt as if the whole world was talking about them!
She entered the house through the front door, and was surprised to find the hallway smelling of flowers. And not just any flowers, but pink roses—her favorite! A big bouquet was on the hallway sideboard, and she felt her mood perk up immediately as she took a deep sniff of the blessed blooms.
She dropped her keys in the tray and walked into the living room. She halted in the doorway when she caught sight of several more vases filled with pink and orange roses greeting her from all around the room. There was dozens of them, and the smell was simply amazing!
“Oh, Tex,” she murmured, for there was no doubt in her mind that this was her husband’s doing, to apologize for the letter business.
She took a peek into the kitchen, to see if Tex was around, and what she found were even more roses—on the table, on the kitchen island—everywhere!
The door opened, and her ma walked in, a big smile on her face.“Hey, honey,” she said. “Nice surprise?”
“The best,” she said, perking all up.
“He’s in the backyard,” said Ma.
She nodded and took a sniff from a nearby bouquet, plucked a single rose from the bunch, then walked out.
Tex was seated on the porch swing, looking moody. When he became aware of her, his frown turned into a smile, though. A hopeful smile.“Did you see…”
She nodded.
“What do you…”
“I like.”
He blinked a few times, and she saw he had teared up. She smiled and put her hand on his cheek, which he kissed tenderly. There was not an ounce of malice in this man. Not a single drop. He was her absentminded professor, and she loved him dearly. And just like that, she realized her anger had dissipated and was gone.
She sat down next to him and took his hand. She then put her head on his shoulder. And so they sat like that for a couple of minutes, in grateful silence.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have been more careful with your letters.”
“Your letters, you mean.”
“The moment I sent them to you, they became yours.”
“I love those letters,” she said, as she kissed his cheek.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
“And I love you,” she returned.
And when her mother took a peek through the kitchen window a few moments later, and saw her daughter and son-in-law seated together on the swing, the old lady smiled, pumped the air with her fist, and whispered,“Yes!”
CHAPTER 29
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
Howard White, the celebrated designer, occupied two floors of an impressive brownstone in the heart of Greenwich Village. The big man was expecting us, and his assistant Sebastian was already supplying our humans with coffee in small porcelain cups the moment we walked in.
“Oh, this is just gorgeous,” Odelia exclaimed when she took in the expansive loft space, which was uninhibited by inner walls or even columns, and afforded a stunning view of the local park. Plenty of light streamed in, and everywhere we looked we could see framed designs by the master’s handadorning the walls.
“We like it here,” Sebastian announced modestly, indicating that perhaps he wasn’t merely Mr. White’s assistant but something more. “Of course we got it when prices were still affordable in this part of town. If we were to sell, we’d probably fetch an inordinate sum, considering how much prices have gone up. But we’ve lived here for so long now we’d never leave. Isn’t that so, chouchou?”