Somehow, though, Harriet had a feeling that he would.
Epilogue
“Okay, so spill, Max,” said Harriet. “Tell us how you figured it out, cause I gotta be honest with you—I do not understand anything!”
“Me neither,” Brutus grunted.
“It’s those two girls,” said Dooley.
“What two girls?”
“Jaime and Marje. They pulled my tail and they pulled my whiskers, and then they pulled my ears and poked my belly, and so I said no more. No more babies. So no more stork either. Isn’t that right, Max?”
“Absolutely, Dooley,” said Max, “though I don’t think that’s what Harriet was talking about.”
“Oh.”
“Odelia!” said Gran. “You have got to explain what happened, cause I don’t understand a thing!”
“Me neither,” Uncle Alec grunted irritably as he nursed a cold brewski.
We were in Marge and Tex’s backyard, with Tex manning the grill as usual, and providing us all with those delicious nuggets of grilled meats and veggies we all love and adore so much. Okay, so some of them were medium rare while others were rare, and still others were overdone, but let’s not nitpick. The fun of a barbecue is not the quality of the food, but the quality of the people present, right? And the quality of those present was nothing to be caviled at: the entire Poole clan, of course, expanded with Charlene and Scarlett. And on the cat side there was of course myself, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus.
“Okay, so what do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything!” said Harriet. “Just take it from the top, Max, and don’t skip anything!”
“Fine,” I said. “So Franklin Harrison had come to the end of his rope, right? And he knew there was no way for him to redeem himself. His dad had cut him off, and had cut him out of his will, and so he was effectively stuck. Now you have to remember that this was a man who hadn’t worked a day in his life, and he didn’t intend to start working for a living now. And so he decided there was only one way out of this: by getting rid of his twin brother and making it look as if he was the victim. That way he could take Marvin’s place, and suddenly the bad twin had become the good twin, and he had the world at his feet again. I don’t have to explain to you that Franklin is not a good person. Never was.”
“He probably squished ants when he was little,” said Dooley.
“Only problem was,” said Odelia, who was telling the same story but to the human audience, “that he needed a fall guy, right? Someone to blame the murder on. And who better to blame than that loser Joshua Curtis, who’d been hounding him ever since he’d been foolish enough to start something with Melanie Myers? So Franklin set up a meeting with Joshua at the Parker Street house and arranged the rendezvous for eleven forty-five on the night of the murder, so making sure that the house wouldn’t have burnt down completely, and that Marvin’s body would still be more or less unblemished.”
“See, he didn’t want the police to have to check the victim’s teeth,” I explained.
“Because that would have been a dead giveaway,” said Odelia. “They’d have known the victim wasn’t Franklin Harrison but was in fact Marvin Harrison. This was also the reason he made sure his brother’s lower torso and arms were seriously burned—he wanted to make sure that no fingerprints could be lifted from the dead person.”
“He’d already left by the time Joshua arrived, sneaking out the backdoor and through the vacant lot next to the house. He was seen leaving by Vanda Dibble, but that couldn’t be helped. And then to make sure that the fire department would get there on time, he called 911 himself and masked his voice with a voice changing app. He then drove straight across town to Joshua’s house and planted the jerrycans in his garage. He knew the way, since he’d been there before to steal a glass from Joshua’s kitchen, hoping it would contain the man’s fingerprints. He then placed his own fingerprints, added some Rohypnol mixed with a little water, and made sure to plant the glass at the scene.”
“But,” said Gran, “how could he be sure that his brother would die from smoke inhalation? Wasn’t that leaving things to chance?”
“It was,” said Odelia. “Which is why he killed Marvin somewhere else.”
“He actually killed his brother in that old shed we saw on the family domain, Dooley,” I said. “Remember how that was partially burned out? He arranged to meet his brother, drugged him, then set the shed on fire and waited until Marvin was dead from smoke inhalation. Then he removed him from the shed and transported him to Parker Street, where he arranged the scene to make it look as if Marvin had been killed in the fire.”
“It’s a miracle Vanda Dibble didn’t see him arrive at the scene,” said Marge.
“Oh, I’m sure she did,” said Odelia. “She saw what she figured was just another drug dealer arrive, and unload what she assumed was a big shipment of drugs. She didn’t report it to the police, since she’d reported that kind of thing so many times before, and she’d lost faith in the police department.”
“Raiding that place was on my list,” Uncle Alec muttered. When Charlene rubbed his arm, he added apologetically, “It’s a long list.”
“I know, honey,” said the Mayor. “And you are understaffed. And I will make sure you get more people so that this sort of thing won’t happen again.”
“So he killed his brother, and then what?” asked Tex, who’d joined them at the table, tongs in hand, allowing the meat on the grill to sizzle merrily—though perhaps a touch too long.
“Well,” said Odelia, “now he had to take his brother’s place and pretend to be him. Now you can fool the people who only know you superficially, but it’s a lot harder to fool your own family.”
“I think Franklin’s mom figured it out almost immediately,” I said, “but he told her he and Marvin met and Marvin died in a freak accident, and he was too late to save him.”
“And how did he explain that he’d decided to take his brother’s place?” asked Brutus.
“That’s where Ruth made a big mistake,” I explained. “She should have called him out on that, but she didn’t. And it’s understandable, of course. Franklin had always been her favorite son—the son she loved the most, even though he was the most mischievous one. And I think she was so happy to see him return to the bosom of the family that she decided to overlook the ruse. Maybe she even thought it wasn’t such a bad idea, seeing as how Marvin’s death would have meant a great disruption for the business side of things, since her husband would have adamantly refused to accept Franklin suddenly taking over at the helm of the company.”
“And then Herbert Harrison suddenly and conveniently dies,” said Chase.
“I don’t think that was an accident,” said Odelia. “I think Franklin killed his dad. Pushed a pillow down on his face and smothered him. He hasn’t confessed to that yet.”
“But he will,” Chase grunted.
“But why?” asked Harriet.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I said. “The old man must have realized that Franklin had taken the place of his brother, and he wasn’t going to accept that. He also must have suspected that Franklin killed his brother—he knew what kind of man his son was. So Franklin decided to end things for the old man, and grab the reins of the family business free and clear.”
“How horrible,” said Marge, shaking her head.
“Yeah, he’s a real piece of work,” Odelia agreed.
“So what about Francine Ritter?” asked Gran. “Why did he try to kill her?”
“Because she recognized her husband the moment she saw him. She wasn’t fooled. And he knew that would happen, which is why he refused to see her. But then they happened to meet on the street, and that was it. Francine knew it was him, and quickly put two and two together, and decided to use the opportunity to finally make him pay. And he promised he would, until he decided he wouldn’t—and tried to kill her.”