Marked Fur Murder (32 page)

Well, that was easy enough, since Caroline was about to move him back, anyway.
What's the second thing?

Will you settle for crickets? Grasshoppers are out of season
.

He shuffled out of the doorway and onto the concrete floor of the pen, then looked back expectedly. I called out, “Theodora? You can come out now.”

Theodora Bonkle stuck her head through the entrance, then crawled out on her hands and knees. She looked somewhat disheveled, her dress rumpled and straw stuck in her hair. She straightened up, peered curiously at Owdutff for a moment, then marched over to the bars. “I may need some assistance getting out,” she said. “I used a ladder to gain access to the roof, then jumped from the eaves into the pen.”

The door to the pen, not surprisingly, was locked. “I'll be right back,” I said.

It didn't take long to locate the ladder she'd used and reverse the process, lowering it into the pen so she could climb out. There was a nerve-racking minute when I thought Owduttf might make a break for it, but apparently he decided that climbing a ladder wasn't on his agenda today. He went back inside the shed instead.

When I had Theodora safely outside and the ladder stowed away, I said, “Okay. Now, would you mind sharing the series of events that led to you taking refuge in the pen of an animal known to attack Cape buffalo?”

Theodora picked a piece of straw out of her hair. “Not at all. But I would still like that tea, if I may.”

I sighed. “Come on. Caroline always has a stash of orange pekoe in her office.”

I led Theodora to the clinic that functioned as the HQ of our resident vet. She wasn't there yet, but I used my key to get us inside, sat Theodora down, then dug out two mugs. I filled them with water, stuck them in the microwave, and found the tea and some sugar while they were heating. Tango, who'd come inside with us, immediately jumped into Theodora's lap and began purring; she's good like that. I placed the mugs on the table, sat down across from Theodora, and said, “I'm listening.”

“Well. The last time we talked, I told you about what I'd uncovered concerning Marbles the cat and her unhappy disappearance. I was rather distraught.”

“Yes, I remember.”

Shush. I'll tell you later.

“Well, my resolve to find the perpetrator was undimmed. Fortunately, I was able to talk further to Mary's caregiver, and even look through some old books of photos. Mary's lived on the same street her whole life, and even though many of the properties in the neighborhood have changed hands over the years, it's still a matter of public record who owned them when she was a child. That gave me a list of names, and it was a logical step from there to court documents. Anyone who hurts animals as a child has a much higher chance of breaking the law as an adult. From there it was a matter of matching last names and ages to get a suspect pool, which was quite small. I asked Mary herself if she could remember the names of any of those who bullied her, and she supplied me with only one: a boy named Herman.”

She stopped, stirred her tea, and fished out the bag before taking a sip. “Herman Klomm was arrested for arson when he was twenty-two, and for assault several times after that. He was an only child, and the Klomm family lived on Mary's street for many years. They eventually moved away, but bought another property nearby. Herman Klomm inherited the title to that house some years ago, and has been living there alone ever since. I went to visit him, under the guise of a reporter doing a story on retirees and their hobbies. The interview … did not go well.”

I winced. “Theodora. What did you
do
?”

She stared at me defiantly. “It was quite unplanned, I assure you. I simply meant to talk to the man, to see if I could get a sense of who he was. It's not as if I expected to find a cat's head preserved in formaldehyde on his mantelpiece.”

“You … didn't, did you?”

“No, of course not. He was short and fat and smelled of cigar smoke, but he was pleasant enough. His house was rather messy, but some people find little incentive to clean when they live alone. In any case, the entire incident was Very British Bear's fault. Oh, don't look at me like that, Very; you know what you did.”

I involuntarily glanced down at the spot on the floor Theodora was glaring at. Nothing there, of course. “Very British Bear? I thought Doc Wabbit was the troublemaker.”

“He is. But in this case, Very was the instigator. What's that, Doc? No, that isn't a type of instant alligator. Anyway, I was asking Mr. Klomm a few initial questions when Very said
Do you think it hurt?
”

“Did what hurt?”

“That's what I wondered, but I couldn't just ask him, not with Mr. Klomm right there chatting about his interest in old baseball cards. But Very didn't give up. He said…”

Theodora broke off and looked away. She blinked a few times, clearly upset, then said, “He said,
When Mr. Klomm killed Marbles. Do you think it hurt?
”

“Oh.”

Theodora set her mug of tea down on the table and regarded it as if she'd never seen such a thing before. “It's not like Very to say things like that. Doc, yes, but he'd make a joke. But Very knew, you see; he knew that Mr. Klomm, for all his smiles and friendliness, was not a good person.”

“What … what did you do?”

“I sneezed. Quite loudly. Then I complained about the severity of my allergy to cats, and asked if Mr. Klomm had one. When he replied in the negative, I congratulated him on his good judgment and—” Theodora looked down at Tango, and stroked her fur gently. “I apologize in advance, Tango. I had to tell a most horrendous lie in order to draw the man out.”

“I said,” continued Theodora, “that they were vile creatures, and if I had my way they would all be put down. It had the desired effect.”

“Which was?”

“His eyes flickered, ever so slightly, to an old baseball bat he had mounted on the wall, next to a framed picture of himself wearing some sort of sports uniform. “I don't know about putting them down,” he said, “but I do know they'll go up, if you hit them just right.”

She stopped then, and just stared at her tea. I felt a little sick. Tango stopped purring.

“Well,” Theodora said at last. “I no longer had the stomach to talk to that monster, so I directed my next remarks to Very.
I expect it did hurt,
I told him,
but only for a second. Now go in the other room, please; I don't want you to see this. Doc, would you be so kind as to hand me that bat? Yes, you can have a turn, too.
”

And that was why the police were here. Too bad; I would have given her an award. “Did you leave him alive?”

She picked up her mug and took a long sip before answering. “Oh, my, yes. I'm no killer, my dear. But his injuries, I'm afraid, were fairly extensive. I meant to stop after breaking his jaw, but—”

“Doc Wabbit kept encouraging you?”

“He can be most convincing when he puts his mind to it. Inventive, too.”

I sighed. “Okay. I applaud your motives, but the authorities have taken a decidedly different view. You're going to have to turn yourself in. But I'm pretty sure ZZ will find you the best representation possible, and probably pay for it, too.”

Theodora nodded. “Yes, that's the outcome I expected. But don't worry yourself, dear; I have plenty of money, and Doc assures me that he's willing to ‘take the rap' as he puts it. I'll be fine.”

Considering her fame as a writer and her well-documented schizophrenia, she could be right—while a stay in a medical environment was likely, I doubted Theodora would spend any time in prison.

But one consequence was almost certain. “You realize that you're going to have to start taking your medication again,” I said gently.

Her face fell. “I know. Previously, when I've tried to explain that to Doc and Very, they've reacted badly. They don't like being sent away, you see; they miss me. But this time they're being very brave. Very has promised to write every day, and save up all the letters to bring to me when they come back. Doc says he'll take care of Very, and not to get into too much trouble. It will be hard, not seeing them, but I expect I will manage.”

We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our tea. And when we were done, we got up and went out to deal with Brower.

 

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

Tango wasn't satisfied.

We stared after the police car driving away with Theodora in the backseat, Whiskey, Tango, ZZ, and me, and Tango said,

[Which part? The mentally unstable author beating an animal abuser with a baseball bat, or the fact that it's illegal?]

Marbles
that I still can't figure out.>

[It's a game involving small, shiny balls that roll around. Much too complex for the feline mind, I know.]

[You mean you can't figure out why Marbles is absent.]

[Indeed. A cat doing something they're not supposed to. How terribly, terribly unusual and noteworthy. Perhaps I should inform the press.]

ZZ looked at me with a sad smile. “This is unfortunate, Foxtrot, but not as bad as it looks. Call the lawyers, will you? We'll foot the bill on this—I may not approve of her actions, but her heart was in the right place. While you're at it, make sure she's getting proper psychiatric care, too; I don't want her stuck in some state-run horror show of an asylum.”

“Will do,” I said. I hesitated, then asked, “ZZ? Theodora's story was kind of … odd, but you seem to be accepting it at face value. And even Theodora admits she's delusional, at least about certain things. I'm not sure I understand.”

ZZ sighed. “I'm not sure I do, either. But that woman, for all her flaws, writes one hell of a detective story. Maybe this is just me being a fan—but if she says a crime was committed and she's found the perpetrator, then I tend to believe her. Even if the crime happened fifty years ago and she has no hard evidence, her story had the ring of truth. It's a matter of instinct, I suppose.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” And I did; despite my telepathic, supernatural companions, I didn't really have any more to go on than ZZ when it came to Theodora's conclusions. But I believed she was right, all the same.

Tango said.

And with that, she darted away.

ZZ watched her go. “Cats,” she said. “Tango hasn't been here that long, but she's already part of the family. I can't imagine someone doing to her what happened to poor Marbles.”

[I can.]

Oh, shut up. If anything actually happened to her, you'd make what Theodora did to Klomm look like a tickle-fight
.

[You don't expect me to admit that, do you?]

Not out loud, no
.

[Then we understand each other.]

Theodora was in jail. Teresa had revealed herself not as a giant shape-changing snake, but a giant shape-shifting teacher. Assuming neither development was some sort of clever ruse, I was down to three suspects: Fimsby, Rustam, and Kaci. Fimsby claimed to be an ally, Rustam claimed to be psychic, and Kaci had claimed Whiskey's heart.

And Rustam had threatened me, in a bizarre and hard-to-prove fashion. Would a metamorphic, mind-warping snake do that? Or would it just try to get me to trust it … like Fimsby was?

If he was, it wasn't working. Which, if you thought about it, was the perfect cover. Also a terrific way to drive someone as analytical as me completely crazy, because after the fourth time you had second thoughts about triple-guessing yourself, you were about ready to just give up and stop thinking. Which is just what they wanted you to do—and off we go on the crazy train again, no stops in sight. Some days, I really hate my brain.

The problem was that I was just reacting, bouncing around in a never-ending hall of mirrors. I needed to take control, smash through the glass and out into the daylight. But how?

Stop trying to figure out who the Unktehila was, and
make
them tell me. Force them out into the open. And then … well, then I had two Thunderbirds, an ectoplasmic dog, a telepathic cat, and a graveyard full of animal spirits backing me up. As soon as the cat got back from her investigation, anyway.

I thought about it as I made the calls ZZ had requested, the back of my mind gnawing away at the problem while I talked and took notes and dealt with the mundane realities of lawyers and doctors and bureaucracy. When I'd ascertained that Theodora's interests were being looked after by highly paid professionals—and confirmed tonight's menu with Ben—Whiskey and I went for a walk in the graveyard. I found Cooper, working on an old lawn mower in the shade of his bungalow, and told him about Theodora; he was saddened but not surprised, and asked me if I could find a way to relay messages to her. “If there's one thing you look forward to in stir,” Coop told me, “it's mail from the outside. Reminds you of what's waiting for you, keeps you connected. I'd like to do that for her, if I could.”