“All of that would come on top of the legal action we threatened to take,” said Sebastian. “He immediately backed off when we hit him with that double whammy.” He looked defiant now. “Said he didn’t mean it like that, and how valuableGlimmer’slongstanding relationship with Howard White was to him.”
“I didn’t have to kill the man, detective,” said Howard. “I already had him licked!” He had the air of an old lion who still has a few tricks up his sleeve.
“We had him cornered,” said Sebastian. “Absolutely cornered!”
Howard leaned forward.“So who killed him, you think?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” said Odelia.
“Which is why we have to ask you where you were two nights ago,” Chase said. “You and your assistant both.”
Howard and Sebastian shared a look of amusement, and before long they were both laughing heartily, as if Chase had told the funniest joke.“I’m not Howard’s assistant,” said Sebastian finally. The two men held hands. “I’m his husband.”
“Well, not officially,” said Howard. “I don’t believe in marriage. But yes, Sebastian and I have been together for, oh, going on thirty years now?”
“Thirty-two next month,” said Sebastian decidedly. “Which reminds me, what do you want for our anniversary, chouchou?”
“You know me. Nothing special,” said the designer.
Sebastian turned to us.“That’s what he always says. But then when I don’t organize the most fabulous party, he gets all moody and sad, the big chouchou.”
“I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley aren’t interested in all that,” said Howard.
“Okay, so where were we when Michael was killed?” said Sebastian, lightly slapping his thighs. He glanced over to Howard. “Did we dine out? I can’t remember.”
“Two nights ago,” said Howard, fingering his smoothly shaved chin.
“Ooh, that’s right! Two nights ago we watched that French movie. The funny one with Christian Clavier and Chantal Lauby.” He turned to us. “We never laughed so hard in our lives. Isn’t that right, chouchou?”
“It was very funny,” Howard admitted with a smile.
“Hilarious,” said Sebastian with satisfaction.
Both men proceeded to beam at us, like two choir boys who’ve discovered the stock of sacramental wine and have managed to drink it all without being caught.
CHAPTER 30
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“I don’t understand why we had to travel all the way to New York,” Dooley lamented once we were back in the car and on our way to Hampton Cove.
“Because Odelia didn’t know if Howard White had pets,” I explained.
“I don’t get it,” Dooley said.
“If Howard had pets, we would have been able to talk to them, and ascertain whether Howard’s alibi was valid or not. But now that it turns out that he didn’t have pets, you’re correct in that our presence wasn’t required.”
“I don’t like traveling by car,” Dooley said as he hunkered down in the backseat.
“I don’t like it either, buddy,” I said.
In fact cats don’t like to travel anywhere. Not by car, not by plane, not by any mode of transportation. We basically like to stay home and not move around in these horrible man-made machines. I mean, if God had wanted us to fly, He would have given us wings, and if He wanted us to travel in cars, He would have given us turn signals.
“So what do you think?” asked Odelia as she put the finishing touches to her notes. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate Howard as a suspect?”
“I’m not sure,” said Chase, hedging his bets as usual. As a detective, he liked to play his cards close to his chest. “I mean, do I think it’s likely that he killed Madison? No, I don’t. Do I think it’s impossible? I don’t think so either.”
“So what you’re actually saying is that you don’t think he did it, and yet you think he did.”
“I’m just saying I don’t know.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
She frowned before her, then turned to us.“What do you think, Max? On a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that Howard White killed Madison?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“God,” said Odelia. “Nobody knows anything.”
“What do you think?” asked Chase as he navigated the Long Island Expressway. “On a scale of one to ten.”
“I don’t know!” Odelia cried, throwing up her hands, and in the process dislodging her tablet from her lap, and sending it flying into the footwell. “So many suspects, and not a single clue to go on! It’s so frustrating!”
“I know,” said Chase. “But at least we have suspects. Imagine having a victim but not a single suspect.”
“We don’t just have one suspect. We have an abundance of suspects,” Odelia grumbled. “We’re drowning in suspects!”
“Odelia seems stressed,” Dooley commented.
“It’s not easy to investigate a murder case that isn’t officially a murder case, with more suspects than clues, and where every suspect seems to have a good reason to murder the victim,” I said.
“This murder case isn’t officially a murder case?”
“Oh, no. It’s only official if there’s a witness, or a strong suspicion that foul play is involved. But the only witness we have is a badger.”
“That badger is a strong witness, Max.”
“I know. But not in a court of law. And that’s what counts.”
“Complicated,” said Dooley. “It’s all very complicated, Max.”
“So what do you think, Dooley? On a scale of one to ten?”
“Zero for traveling by car,” said Dooley. “And ten for getting home safe and sound.”
Now those were numbers I could live with.
“So have your mom and dad reconciled?” asked Chase.
Odelia smiled.“Dad got Mom pink roses. A lot of pink roses. She couldn’t stay angry with him after that. And to think those roses were Gran’s idea.”
“That was very nice of her.”
“Gran is often on Dad’s case, but actually she’s very fond of him.”
“Your dad is a great guy, and we’re all very fond of him.”
Odelia put down her tablet, and for the next half hour, the case was temporarily forgotten, as they discussed family matters instead of murder.
And in spite of the harrowing circumstances, Dooley and I took a long nap.
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Once again, Advantage Publishing was open for business. Gran and Scarlett had been invited back, as had the rest of the company’s staff, and of course Gran and Scarlett’s emotional support animals couldn’t be excluded from the roster.
And so Dooley and I were on Gran’s desk, taking in the exciting world of commerce from our vantage point, while Gran and her friend worked like beavers to further the interests of Dear Gabi. They still hadn’t given up on their matchmaking efforts, and had come up with a new plan of campaign. Gran would work on Natalie, while Scarlett would focus her attentions on Natalie’s prospective beau Tom.
Michael Madison’s office had been completely remodeled—perhaps the fastest remodel in history—with all remnants of the murdered CEO’s reign removed. The new CEO hadn’t yet taken up their position at the helm, but rumor had it that negotiations had entered the final stage. And so the office was abuzz with wild speculation and gossip about who could possibly become their new boss—always an important aspect of office life!
Scarlett had sashayed up to Tom, and took a seat next to the embattled young man. He looked just as miserable as ever—perhaps it was his signature look?
Scarlett must have thought the key to making him more palatable to Natalie was to do something about his general appearance, for she opened proceedings by saying,“Girls don’t like it when a guy looks like a slob, Tom.”
“Are you saying I look like a slob?” asked the lovesick editor, glancing down at his costume. He was wearing his usual faded jeans, a T-shirt that announced that he favored Team Chewbacca, whatever Team Chewbacca was, and his hair telegraphed that it hadn’t been touched since he stepped out of bed that morning: one side was up, the other was down. Not exactly the hot stud most girls favor!