Fifi thought about this for all of five seconds, then shook her head decidedly.“No, it was murder, Max. I’m calling it.”
“Fine,” I said. There was no point for me to argue the case, since there was no way to know for sure what had happened to this person—or even if it was a person. Until the police got involved, and a forensic investigator, the whole thing was shrouded in mystery.
“Of course it could be that this person died in their bed,” said Dooley, adding his own two cents, “and that dogs took the bones and dragged them all the way out here to bury.” He directed a quizzical look at Fifi, but the latter shook her head.
“Don’t look at me like that, Dooley. I’m not the kind of dog who goes and picks up stray human bones and then dispatches them to fallow fields far afield. I’m very choosy on the kinds of bones I like to pick, and human bones definitely aren’t in my wheelhouse.”
“You were going to bury them, Fifi,” Dooley pointed out. “You said so yourself.”
“I was thinking about burying them—thinking about doing something is not the same as actually doing it, Dooley. And I did ask you for your advice first, didn’t I?”
“Only because we just happened to pass by. If we hadn’t passed by, you would have gone and buried them for sure.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“You buried one of them.”
“One is none, Dooley.”
“What does that even mean!”
We’d arrived in our backyard, and so I went in search of Odelia to give her this big piece of news. I finally found her inside, in the kitchen, having breakfast with Chase. Judging from the smell they were having scrambled eggs and toast—an excellent choice, if I may say so. “Odelia?” I said. “You might want to have a look at some bones that were left in that field behind the house.”
“They’re human bones,” Dooley added. “And Fifi thinks they belong to someone who was murdered.”
“Very good of you to give credit where credit is due, Dooley,” said Fifi appreciatively.
“Max says there’s a skeleton lying in the field behind the house,” said Odelia, translating my words for her husband, who sat reading a comic book he’d borrowed from his father-in-law, and sipping from a cup of piping hot black coffee. He looked up at the mention of the word skeleton, and, not unlike a pointing dog, was ready for action. “A skeleton?” he said, sitting upright and ready to go where duty called. “Who found it?”
“Fifi,” I said dutifully. Though I didn’t mention the Yorkie was about to bury the bones, and if Dooley and I hadn’t arrived on the scene, that skeleton would probably never have been found. But then that’s dogs for you: they tend to go off half-cocked.
“I’m going to take a look,” said Chase, getting up while still holding onto his cup of coffee and taking a sip then putting it down. “Are you coming?”
“Absolutely,” said Odelia, and then both of our humans were off, with Dooley and myself and of course Fifi leading the way.
“An actual skeleton,” said Chase, sounding as happy as a kid who’s found buried treasure. “I wonder how it got there, and how long it’s been there, and who it belongs to. Are you sure it’s human, Max?”
“He’s sure,” said Odelia, without consulting me.
“Human skeletons have a tendency to decay,” Dooley explained for Fifi’s sake, “and the level of decay can tell an expert how long ago the person died. I saw a documentary about this on the Discovery Channel. There’s a place where they keep bodies in all kinds of different circumstances and then monitor the decay. It’s very yucky, but also interesting.”
“Trust me when I tell you, Dooley,” said Fifi, “that this person has been there exactly three months, three days and five hours—could also be six.” She stuck her nose in the air. “You don’t have to teach me bones,” she explained. “As a dog I’m an expert on bones.”
“You should have been a police dog, Fifi. They could really use a dog like you.”
Fifi gave us a wistful look.“I wish,” she said fervently. “But I’m too small to be a police dog.”
“Would you like to be a police dog?” I asked now. I’m not a big fan of dogs in general, but it is true that they have a certain usefulness when set about performing a specific set of tasks. Not as useful as cats, obviously, but then most cats have no interest in entering the field of policing, and dogs do, since their natural tendency is to obey orders, something cats feel goes against their innate sense of independence. And if you say: but, Max, you follow orders all the time, then I’m going to tell you that I don’t. I respect Odelia, and if she asks me to do something, I weigh therequest, then decide for myself whether to engage or not. Big difference!
We arrived at the spot indicated, and Chase looked about as giddy as a puppy ready to try out a new bouncy ball.“It’s a skeleton, all right,” he announced happily. “Max called it.”
“Actually I called it, Chase,” said Fifi.
“Fifi called it,” I told Odelia, who decided not to translate this message for her husband, since it didn’t make any difference. Also, Chase was studying the scene now, an intense frown cutting a groove in his brow. He crouched down and inspected the bones, getting close and personal with theremains. “If I’m not mistaken there’s parts missing,” he said. He then darted a curious look at Fifi. “The dog been at it, you think?”
“Must be,” said Odelia.
“It wasn’t me!” said Fifi, clearly resenting the accusation. “I didn’t touch them!”
“You touched one bone, Fifi,” Dooley reiterated his earlier statement.
“One is none, Dooley! One is none!”
“There’s one more bone over there,” I said, and pointed Odelia in the right direction.
“I think it’s time we called your uncle,” said Chase, as he rose again and took out his phone. He now directed a curious look at the car wreck which sat only a dozen or so feet away from the skeleton. “Whose car is that?” he asked as he put his phone to his ear.
“The land belongs to Blake Carrington,” said Odelia. “So the car must be his, too. I know Dad has been begging the town council for years to get rid of it, but no luck so far.”
“Years, huh? I wonder if this poor schmuck has been lying here for years, too. Alec? Yeah, I think you better get down here. To the house. We found a skeleton in Blake Carrington’s field. Oh, and better get Abe out here as well. Looks to me like it’s human.” After he’d disconnected, he frowned pensively. “Odd,” he said, glancing around.
“What?” said Odelia as she snapped a couple of pictures of the skeleton with her phone.
“This field is surrounded on all sides by houses, right?”
“Except on that side,” said Odelia, pointing in a south-southwestern direction, if I wasn’t mistaken.
“So how come it took Max to finally make the discovery?”
“It wasn’t me,” I said quickly as Fifi opened her mouth to speak.
“I see what you mean,” said Odelia, nodding. “You think someone recently put this here?”
“I mean, people come here all the time, right?” the burly cop said, indicating what looked like the remnants of a fire. Plenty of cigarette butts lay in its vicinity, and a couple of crumpled beer cans and even an empty bottle of Scotch.
“Could be that they didn’t notice?”
“That they were having a party next to a dead person? I doubt that very much, babe. They might be high on whatever substance they like to imbue, but they’re not that high. No,” he said as he rubbed his impressive chin. “I think this person was recently dumped here. Which makes me wonder: why now? And why here?”
4
Since there wasn’t anything more for us to do out there, we decided to return to the house and have a bite to eat. The smell of breakfast had reminded me I hadn’t had anything to eat in at least one or two hours, and if I wanted to keep up my strength it was imperative I stock up on the necessary nutrients andvitamins ASAP. And so we left the humans to poke around that field for possible clues as to how that body could have gotten there, and were soon enjoying a nice and healthy snack. Fifi had returned home as well, since Kurt was already hollering her name. Kurt gets worried when Fifi wanders off, andis never happier than when he can keep an eye on her. Dog owners are like that: if their precious pet wanders off, they freak out. Cat owners are exactly the opposite: if their precious pet doesn’t wander off, that’s when they freak and think something is wrong.