“A likely story!” he said. “Brandy, how’s that phone call coming along?” he asked, without taking his eyes off the killer for even a single second. There were lives at stake here—his and Brandy’s—and he wasn’t taking any chances. Not with these professional killers. Probably hired guns by Abdullah’s enemies. Could be the Russians, maybe, or even the Chinese.

“But I promise you that this gun isn’t ours!” said the guy. “We’ve never even seen it before, have we, Mindy?”

“First time I’ve laid eyes on it,” the woman confirmed.

“Keep talking, you gang of psycho killers!” he cried. “Pretty soon you can tell your story to the cops. Let’s see if they believe you!”

“Oh, God,” sighed the guy, looking more nervous now than ever. Andy saw that he was also sweating profusely, which didn’t surprise him. Killers had a code. If one of them got caught, instead of spilling the beans to the cops, either they took their own lives, or they were killed by one of their associates. Suicided. He’d seen so many thrillers he knew all about it.

“Yes, reception?” he heard Brandy say. “My husband has caught the killers of that nice gentleman in room 34. Yes, he’s holding them at gunpoint. Can you please send someone up to the third floor? Quickly, please. Yes, really quickly. These people look very dangerous.” She hung up and said in a breathless voice, “They’re sending the hotel detective up to meet us.”

“And what about the cops? Where are the cops?”

“The cops, too,” said his wife.

“Good,” he said, and he waved to the killer. “Up against the wall. Do it! You too, missy. Nice and slow. And don’t make me tell you twice, you hear. I’ve got a really itchy trigger finger.”

“But honey, you’re not going to shoot these people, are you?” asked Brandy.

“I might,” he said, not willing to admit he’d never held a gun in his hands before, and didn’t have a clue how to use it. All he knew was that tomorrow morning his name and face would be in their local paper. He’d be the man of the hour. The hero who caught the killer of poor Abdullah! Maybe he’d even get some kind of reward. A medal, handed out to him by the prince’s brother or whatever. They might even get a free vacation out of this.

“Oh, honey, you’re so brave,” Brandy gushed as she clasped her hands together.

“Just doing my civic duty,” he grunted as he still kept his eyes locked with the killer’s. The man seemed to have developed a sudden weakness around the knee area for he had sagged against the wall and was now sitting on his ass on the floor, giving them a miserable look.

He wasn’t fooled by the act. It just meant that the killer’s plans had been thwarted. And since he’d done the thwarting, whatever reward was to be given for the killer’s capture was all his and his alone! They might even comp them their room. Or give them a nice upgrade!

The elevator door dinged and an entire contingent stepped out. Amongst them, he recognized the hotel manager, but also a burly fella who may or may not have been the hotel security person, and another beefy fella and a gorgeous blonde. The burly fella flashed a badge.

“Chase Kingsley. Hampton Cove police. I’ll have that gun now, Mr…”

“Pettey,” he said. “Andy Pettey. And this is my wife, Brandy. And those two over there,” he said pointing to the killer and his associate, “are the killers of that nice Prince Abdullah!”

All of those newly arrived turned to the couple pressed up against the wall, then at the giant fly on the floor, and marveled at the scene.

“Mr. Perks and Miss Horsefield?” asked the blond babe, sounding surprised.

“It’s all a terrible misunderstanding!” the killer cried piteously. “We were moving our mock-up to the car when all of a sudden a gun fell out.”

“The killer must have hidden it in there,” the killer’s associate claimed.

“We didn’t do it!” said the killer as he held up his hands. “We had nothing to do with this whole murder business. Like I told you earlier, when the prince was shot, we weren’t even in the room with him. We were knocking on his door.”

The cop stared at the gun for a moment, which he had placed inside a plastic baggie, and seemed to consider his next course of action. “I would like you all to come down to the station with us,” he said finally. “You too, Mr. and Mrs. Pettey.”

“But I had nothing to do with this,” said Andy. “I caught the killer.”

“That’s for us to decide, Mr. Pettey,” said the cop, and Andy didn’t much care for the way he said it. And he could already see what was happening here. Probably the killer and the cop were friends—in a small town like Hampton Cove, everyone knew each other. Maybe they were even related. They could be brothers, or cousins! Or best friends since high school!

And now they were going to pin this entire sordid business on him!

Fat chance!

And so he broke into a run. “Brandy, let’s go!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Come on!”

“But Andy!” cried his wife. “Where are you going?”

“We’re getting out of here before they pin this whole thing on us!” Or worse, murder them so they could get rid of an annoying witness to a crime!

He had gotten as far as the elevator when a powerful hand grabbed him by the neck and dragged him back and down to the carpet. He landed hard, the air being knocked out of his lungs. And as he lay there, he found himself staring up into the cold blue eyes of that burly beefcake of a cop. “Like I said, you’re going to join us at the police station, Mr. Pettey. And then you’re going to tell us why you suddenly decided to go for a run.”

“You won’t pin this on me!” he yelled as he tried to fight off this bully. “You won’t! I’ve got friends in high places!”

The cop smiled an icy smile, then dragged him to his feet. “Let’s go,” he said, and gave him a push in the direction of the elevator. For a moment he thought he might still make it, but then he felt the cold hard steel of a pair of handcuffs being attached to his wrists and knew that he was out of luck.

Looked like they were both done for it. No doubt they’d meet with an ‘accident,’ their bodies dumped in an elevator shaft, never to be found again. He hung his head. Goodbye cruel world. If only he’d never picked up that gun! He’d wanted to play the hero, and now look where it had gotten him! For a moment he wondered what John McClane would have done, but then he figured John wouldn’t have allowed himself to be captured in the first place. As he stepped into the elevator, a pesky fly settled on his forehead for a moment before taking off again.

CHAPTER 13

We had been biding our time in the manager’s office when a familiar face came buzzing in through the ventilator grille located above the door. It was Norm, and we greeted him with open arms—so to speak.

“You guys!” he said, sounding a little out of breath. “There’s been a development! My suspects have been arrested! So looks like I was right after all!”

“And who are your suspects?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.

“Why, the fly killers, of course. I mean, it starts with a single fly, then slowly but gradually they progress to wiping out our entire species, before they finally move on to their own.”

“You mean that the bug spray couple have been arrested?” asked Brutus.

“That’s exactly right!” said Norm, who looked extremely pleased with himself, I saw. “I knew they were guilty, of course. You develop an intuition for these things. But I’m glad that Chase and Odelia finally saw the light and decided to haul them off to jail.”

“How did it happen?” I asked. Knowing Chase, he wouldn’t have arrested the couple without probable cause or plenty of evidence to point to them as the culprits.

“The dumbest thing! They forgot to hide the murder weapon where it wouldn’t be found. It just happened to fall out of that abomination they think resembles a fly!”

“You mean the gun fell out of that big mock-up?” asked Brutus with a laugh.

“That’s right! It fell right at the feet of another guest of the hotel, who immediately had the presence of mind to pick it up and make sure the killers didn’t escape. He pinned them down until the cops arrived and hauled them off to the pokey.” He sighed happily. “Am I glad this ordeal is over. I mean, it’s all well and good to interview a bunch of bugs, but it makes you feel like such a chump, you know? Having to ask a bunch of total strangers a bunch of tough and very personal questions. I don’t know how you guys do it.”

“It takes practice,” said Brutus. “And a certain lack of decorum.”

“And curiosity,” said Harriet. “You have to be a very curious individual to ask a lot of personal questions. But then I’ve always been extremely interested in what makes other people—and pets—tick.”

“So the killers have been arrested?” asked Dooly. “But that’s great! That means our investigation is over!”

“If only we could get out of this office, we might be able to go home,” said Brutus as he glanced at the window that was shut, and the door that was also firmly closed.