I hardly would have called Brutus, a buff black cat, invisible, but that just goes to show that you can never know another cat’s mind. “You’re not invisible, Brutus,” I said.
“No, I see you, Brutus,” Dooley concurred.
These words didn’t seem to do much to buck the butch cat up, though. If possible, he slumped even more. “Look, I love Harriet with all my heart—she’s the only cat for me. But sometimes a fellow just wants to know if he hasn’t lost it, you know? So when Darlene suggested I meet her in the bushes—thicket—I jumped at the chance. I guess I was flattered. Happy that my fatal charm still worked. And it did! Only it worked a little too well, I guess.”
“You were sniffing her butt, Brutus,” I said.
“I wasn’t! Honestly! I would never cheat on Harriet. You know that, Max.”
I did know that, but I also knew things looked bad for Brutus. Very bad.
“You gotta help me, Max,” he said now, a pleading note in his voice. “You gotta explain to Harriet. Make things right. I can’t lose her. I’m nothing without that cat. Nothing!”
“I don’t know, Brutus. I know Harriet, and she’s not the forgiving kind.”
“Oh, man,” he moaned. “I’ve really done it this time, haven’t I?”
And with these words, he slunk off in the direction of the pond. For a moment I expected to hear a plunge and was already bracing myself to jump in after him to save his life. No plunging sound came, though, and the moment passed. I should have known. Even in the depths of despair, Brutus wasn’t the kind of cat to take his own life. Probably because he knows he’d have to repeat the procedure nine times, and who wants to be bothered?
“What are we going to do, Max?” asked Dooley.
“First we’re going to give Harriet a little time to cool off,” I said.
“And then we’re going to talk to her? Convince her Brutus wasn’t really cheating on her? That he was doing exactly what Odelia was doing: playing make-believe?”
I smiled at Dooley’s quick insight. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’re going to play Cupid, Dooley.”
“It’s going to be tough.”
“Yes, it is. But when have we ever turned away from a challenge?”
“Never.”
I eyed him appreciatively.“Any other cat would have jumped at the chance to use this opportunity to seduce Harriet—become her shoulder to cry on and move in on her.”
Dooley looked sincerely shocked.“No way! Harriet loves Brutus and he loves her. I would never do that to two of my best friends.”
“You know what, Dooley? You just might be one of the most chivalrous cats around.”
He looked confused.“What’s chivalrous, Max?”
“You, Dooley. You are chivalrous. A regular knight of old.” These words didn’t seem to mean a thing to my friend, so I added, “You’re a true friend. Now let’s go and check out this hullaballoo. I do believe Odelia just may have stumbled upon yet another murder.”
“She should probably stop doing that. It’s a very bad habit.”
Chapter 6
“Who was she?” asked Uncle Alec.
Odelia was seated on a bench, still experiencing the kind of dread that accompanies the discovery of a fellow human being whose life has been snuffed out prematurely.
“Her name was Dany Cooper.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her around,” said Alec, glancing in the direction of the crime scene, which his officers had cordoned off and where the coroner was now conducting his investigations.
“She’s not from around here. We haven’t exchanged more than a few words but I think she’s from Albany, though she’s been living in New York for the past couple of months, with aspirations of becoming an actress on the stage.”
And now someone had murdered her. Just like that. In broad daylight, with dozens of witnesses around. Odelia shook her head.“I don’t get it. Someone must have seen something, right? This kind of thing can’t just… happen.”
“We’re still talking to anyone who was in the vicinity,” the Chief assured her.
And now he was talking to her. Not in his capacity as her uncle, but as the chief of police. She was a witness, after all. It felt a little weird being in this position. Usually she was the one asking the questions. This time, tragedy had struck close to home. She watched as her cats came trotting up. Careful, as if not wanting to disturb her. She didn’t see Brutus or Harriet, though. Just Max and Dooley. She smiled down at them as they took up their position underneath the bench, eavesdropping on her the way they eavesdropped on all humans. Cats were the ultimate detectives: nobody ever noticed them, or if they did, they didn’t care. So they heard stuff—stuff that wasn’t intended for anyone’s ears. This way Odelia had solved quite a few mysteries. She hoped she’d be able to solve this one, too.
“So what was her role, exactly?” asked Alec.
“She was supposed to learn my part, in case anything happened to me, so she could take over and allow the production to go on.”
“Do you think the production will go on now? I mean, this is a pretty tragic event.”
“I haven’t talked to Wolf yet.”
“Wolf?”
“Wolf Langdon. He’s the director. He’s been running these Bard in the Park productions for years, setting them up all across the state. He’s a big name on Broadway, but his summers are spent showcasing Shakespeare in small towns like Hampton Cove. His way of introducing the bard—and theater—to the masses.” And discovering local talent.
She watched as Chase interviewed Don Stryker. She could have told him he was wasting his time. Don was notoriously self-absorbed. He wouldn’t have noticed someone as low on the totem pole as Dany Cooper. Not important enough to cozy up to, and not attractive enough for a quick roll in the hay, and therefore negligible. Besides, he had a perfect alibi: he’d been over by the craft services table, chatting up one of the interns.
“Was she killed at that exact spot?” asked Odelia. “Under that tree?”
“Looks like,” said Alec.
“But how is that even possible? She was in full view of everyone.”
“Not really. From what I can gather they were all so focused on you and this Stryker guy they didn’t bother to turn around. Otherwise they would have noticed how one of their own was being murdered right behind them.”
“But we were taking a break. Don was over by the craft services table and I was…” She lowered her voice. “… talking to Max.”
Uncle Alec shrugged. It was obvious how he felt about the crew’s powers of observation.
Odelia gestured to one of the cameramen.“They’re filming this whole thing. Not just the rehearsals but the entire process. Wolf hopes to turn it into a documentary. Maybe they caught the killer on tape?”
“We’re going to sift through every inch of film,” said Alec, making a note in his little notebook.
“Maybe someone else saw something?” She pointed to a mother pushing a stroller on a pathway that curved around a grassy slope that stretched between their rehearsal spot and the duck pond. “That path over there offers a perfect vantage point to see the tree.”
Uncle Alec let his reading glasses dangle from his neck and fixed her with his mellow brown eyes. They were slightly hooded, which gave him a hangdog look.“We’re working on it, honey. I’ve got all my people combing through the park. Don’t you worry. We’ll get whoever did this. They won’t get away with it.”
She nodded. His words offered a measure of comfort, though she couldn’t help but fret over the whole thing. “Somehow I have the feeling I’m responsible,” she said suddenly.
“That doesn’t make any sense. How are you responsible for what happened to Dany?”
“Because she was my understudy. If not for me…”
“If not for you, she would have been someone else’s understudy. This has nothing to do with you,” he said, and he was right. It didn’t stop her from feeling terrible about the whole thing.