“Fred landed on his feet, and left the past behind, but Pete didn’t. He hit rock bottom and lost not only his job and his marriage, but also his self-respect, all of his friends and his house. So he ended up living on the streets—no money, no future, no prospects.”
“That must have been tough,” said Dooley feelingly.
“Well, he only had himself to blame,” I said. “If you steal from your boss, you probably shouldn’t expect any favors.”
“So how do you think Pete happened to end up in Hampton Cove?” asked Odelia.
“Coincidence,” I said. “I’m sure he had no idea that his former partner in crime had built up a new successful kitchen business out here, and it must have been a big shock for Fred to bump into his former associate.”
“Who immediately put the squeeze on him,” Odelia said, nodding. “Probably wanting money in exchange for his silence.”
“So Fred decided that the only option that would give him peace of mind was to get rid of Pete once and for all. So he told him to meet him out here in the woods, and he shot and buried him, knowing no one would come and look for the guy. But then of course Karl Bunyon’s catnapping shenanigans rode roughshod over Fred’s plans.”
“So… how did Fred Kramer get a hold of Karl’s gun?” asked Dooley.
“Well, from time to time it was Fred who’d drop the kids off at the Bunyons, not Grace,” Odelia explained. “And he must have gotten wise to his former employee’s gun safe—maybe Karl even showed it to him, and opened it in his presence—and that’s when the idea must have hit him.”
“To steal Karl’s gun?”
“Not steal it,” I said. “To switch it with his own gun, the one he picked out of that tree just now. The plan was to switch guns with Karl, kill Pete, then return the gun to Karl’s safe, something he could easily do when he picked up Grace’s kids or dropped them off. So just in case Pete’s body was discovered, which was a remote contingency, but still a contingency he needed to consider, the bullet would lead the cops to Karl, not Fred.”
Odelia nodded. “And so when you told me to let it be known that the bullet we found in Pete wasn’t a match for Karl’s gun, you secretly hoped…”
“That Fred would figure he’d made a mistake, and had accidentally put Karl’s gun in that tree, and had placed his own gun in Karl’s gun safe,” I confirmed. “And so just to make sure, he came out here to look for the gun, and—”
“Walked straight into our trap,” said Odelia.
“So how about this other man?” asked Dooley. “The DJ? Was that an accident?”
“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “It was a case of Darryl Farmer being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d gone to the rave that night, playing his set, and was returning home on his bicycle around the time Fred Kramer was also returning from his grizzly business in the woods. Kramer hit him with his car, knocking Darryl off his bike and into a ditch, and since he didn’t want the police to know, gave him a large amount of cash in hand to buy himself a new bike, and keep his mouth shut about the accident.”
“Only Darryl got greedy,” Odelia explained. “He must have read about the dead body being found, and thought that Mr. Kramer just might be involved, explaining his reluctance to involve the authorities, so he decided to milk him for some more cash.”
“Kramer agreed, and told Darryl to meet him at the construction site.”
“And shoved him down that elevator shaft, getting rid of another drain on his cash flow,” Odelia finished the sordid tale.
“He’s not a very nice man, is he, this Fred Kramer,” Dooley determined.
“No, he is not,” I agreed.
“So how did you figure it all out, Max?”
“Well, you’ll remember that Kramer’s Tesla had a big dent and some scratches across the hood—we saw it that day Gran hit him with her car. And today, when that bike messenger got hit, I saw the exact same damage done to the car of the man who drove into him: a dent and then some scratchings from the bike’s handlebars.”
“He could have gotten that dent and those scratches anywhere,” said Odelia. “How did you connect that to Darryl Farmer?”
“It was the brand-new bike we saw in Darryl’s ex-girlfriend’s place, Lucy Vale. It was a very expensive-looking bike. But then she said something that should have made me think: she said that Darryl was as poor as a church mouse. So if he really was as poor as all that, where did he get such a nice new bike? With the money Fred Kramer gave him.”
“You did a great job, Max,” said Odelia, well pleased. “You saved an innocent man from going to prison.”
“And from losing his kids,” I added.
“Yeah, Karl’s ex-wife has no excuse to yank his visitation rights now.”
“Except for the business with the cats,” I said. “Which lucky for him nobody knows about.”
“You know what I don’t understand, Max?” said Dooley.
“No, what?”
“Why would Karl allow his ex-boss into his home? Mr. Kramer fired him, and he also stole his wife.”
“Karl had to allow Fred into his home, Dooley, and his ex-wife, too, if he wanted to see his kids. And also, I think Karl is one of those people who tries to let bygones be bygones.”
“Also,” said Odelia, “Karl didn’t know that those embezzlement charges were bogus. All he knew was that Fred fired him. Karl believed that someone embezzled that money. He knew it wasn’t him, but he also accepted that Fred couldn’t be sure about that.”
“He should have blamed him for stealing his wife,” I said.
“Karl didn’t see it that way. He thought Grace had left him, not that Fred had framed him so he could steal Grace away from him.”
“Karl is really one of those people who are too good for this world,” I said with a shake of the head.
“Yeah, he sure is,” Odelia said. “And if we hadn’t intervened, Fred wouldn’t have just framed him for embezzlement, stolen the man’s wife, but also set him up for murder!”
“Talk about a lousy boss,” said Dooley with a sigh.
Epilogue
It was that time of the week again, when the Poole clan all comes together and enjoys a family moment: when they sit down for dinner and the paterfamilias prepares food for the entire clan. In the olden days that paterfamilias probably first killed a bison or two and caught a shoal of fish to serve his famished relatives, but in these modern times Tex had simply gone down to the supermarket to get his offerings wholesale. It was necessary for him to buy his meats wholesale as he wasn’t exactly the best chef in the world, and things often tended to go wrong at the food prep stage of the proceedings.
Tex was slowly improving, though, and every week his barbecue moment was a little less disastrous than the week before. At this rate I figured it wouldn’t take more than another couple of years before he managed to serve us all an edible and enjoyable meal.
The meal itself was being served in Odelia and Chase’s backyard for a change, as the backyard of the chef himself was the scene of an extensive home renovation project—or you might call it what it was: erecting an entirely new home practically from scratch.
“So you did it again, Max,” said Harriet as the four of us were all lying next to one another on the porch swing. “You caught yourself another killer.”
“I guess I got lucky again,” I said modestly.
“Or smart,” said Dooley.
“So the Kitchen King is actually a killer king, huh?” said Brutus. “I should have known. He looked like a crook to me.”
“No, he didn’t,” said Harriet. “In fact when you first saw him you said he looked like a great guy—the kind of guy you could imagine yourself being adopted by.”