CHAPTER 26
At the breakfast table, last night’s events were the sole topic of conversation. As I had expected, Johnny and Jerry had long fled the scene when the police finally arrived, and there was no way of knowing where they were holed up now or whether they would try to get rid of Rogelio Hartshorn again. The man had been transferred from his prison cell to a safe location outside of town. He was, in fact, staying with Charlene Butterwick and Uncle Alec now, but only for the time being, until a suitable location could be found for the unfortunate lawyer.
Jerry’s niece Maria Cannon hadn’t been told where the lawyer was, for fear she would blurt it out to her uncle. Uncle Alec decided not to suspend or punish her, but he did have a long talk with the young woman, and explained to her a thing or two about practicing discretion, especially to the likes of Jerry Vale, who was a convicted criminal. She was absolutely mortified when she understood that her uncle had used her to get information on a target, the poor girl.
“I asked Rogelio again why he thought he was being targeted,” said Chase as he bit down into a sandwich smeared with a brown substance I could only assume was Nutella. “And he swore he has no idea. And I believe him. Whoever it is that wants him dead, he honestly has no clue, and neither do we,” he added on a sour note. He took a sip from his piping hot coffee and directed a loving look across the breakfast table at his daughter Grace. “Looking forward to another day at the daycare, sweetie?”
“Oh, absolutely,” said Grace. “Yesterday, Timmy and I discovered a fun new game. We dunk all the Legos in a tub with warm water and soap. Then we let them dry, and it’s so much fun to see other kids try to pick them up but they can’t because they’re all slippery. So much fun!”
“That’s great, sweetie,” said Chase who, as usual, hadn’t understood her babbling at all. Oddly enough, only us cats can.
“You shouldn’t do that, Grace,” said Harriet. “It’s not nice to the other kids—or the teacher, who has to rinse those Legos again and then dry them.”
“But soap is good for you,” said the little girl. “Everybody knows that soap is a wonderful substance and we can never have enough of it.”
I shook my head. “I hope at least you don’t eat the soap?”
“Of course not,” she said. But then frowned. “Though I was wondering… if soap is so good for you, maybe we should eat it? To clean our insides, I mean? So they’re nice and shiny?”
“Please don’t,” said Harriet. “You’ll get sick if you do.”
“I’m not stupid, Harriet,” said Grace. “I wouldn’t try to eat a bar of soap. But I could feed it to my friends, and see what happens. And if they are okay, I can try it myself, you know.”
It was exactly the same logic Gran used from time to time, which just goes to show that certain habits transfer from generation to generation. Gran entered the house at that moment through the sliding glass door and searched around eagerly. When she spotted Harriet, she smiled. “Can you come with me for a moment, Harriet? I need you for an experiment.”
Harriet was pleased to be selected and immediately followed Gran out of the house and into the backyard.
“What about that older couple?” asked Odelia. “Andy and Brandy Pettey?”
“The Petteys are innocent,” said Chase. “Nothing to do with this whole sordid business whatsoever. I let them walk last night after the shooting.” He grimaced. “Though it looks as if being locked up and shot at didn’t sit well with them, and they’re lawyering up. Threatening to take us to court for wrongful arrest and putting their lives in jeopardy. They also said that Hampton Cove is going to the dogs and want to go to the press with the whole story.”
“Looks like some bad publicity is coming our way then,” said Odelia, who didn’t look even remotely bothered. Plenty of people have tried to sue the Hampton Cove police for wrongful arrest, and only in extremely rare cases have the judges gone along with them. Chase doesn’t arrest people simply because he doesn’t like their faces or because they’ve rubbed him the wrong way. He always has a good reason, and the judges can appreciate that.
Though in the case of the old couple, it was true that he hadn’t had a lot to go on. Apart from the fact that they were embroiled in some kind of fracas with the bug spray people.
“And Carlos and Mindy?” I asked. “Are they still suspects in the murder of the prince?”
“Oh, absolutely,” said Odelia. “The gun that was used to murder Prince Abdullah was found hidden away inside their mock-up. And even though they claim they had nothing to do with it, they were at the scene, and so they had opportunity and means to murder the man.”
“But what about motive?” I asked. “Why would they murder a customer?”
Odelia nodded. “That’s the part that we haven’t been able to figure out. And also, the role that Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale play in this whole business.”
“They must have been hired by Perks and Horsefield,” said Chase. “To get rid of the lawyer.”
“But why?” I asked.
Odelia shook her head. “No idea.” She gave me a hopeful look. “You wouldn’t have some bright idea, would you, Max?”
“No idea,” I confessed. It certainly was a most baffling case. A prince being murdered, a lawyer targeted, and the only people locked up were a couple of bug spray salespeople. Things did not look good for the investigation. “Did you find out more about the prince?” I asked. “Possible enemies? If Johnny and Jerry had been paid to get rid of the lawyer, maybe Carlos Perks had also been paid to provide the same service in regards to the prince. There was that message written on his mirror, remember?” I had told her all about that threatening message.
“Well, it all gets a little strange from that point onward,” said Odelia. “Prince Abdullah was traveling alone, which is unusual for a member of the royal house of Abou-Yamen, as they always travel with an entourage, security people, and such. Also, when we contacted the embassy of Abou-Yamen, they weren’t very eager to supply us with more information in connection with the prince. They didn’t even want to give us the prince’s biography, though we have found some information about him online, most notably his Wikipedia page. Which tells us that he is married with three kids, all of them living in Abou-Yamen. And that he’s one of the crown prince’s sons—the crown prince has nine sons and three daughters. But apart from that, we don’t know why he was traveling to the United States all by himself to buy bug spray.”
“Maybe the country of Abou-Yamen is having a lot of trouble with bugs?” I ventured.
“Yes, but he doesn’t have a connection with the Minister of Agriculture, so his mission wasn’t officially sanctioned or approved by the ministry or the king of Abou-Yamen.”
“Looks like he was traveling as a private person,” said Chase. “Not as an official representative of his country or the royal house to which he belongs.”
“Could it be that he wanted to buy that bug spray for his own personal use?” I asked. “Maybe he owns a lot of land and he wanted to keep it free of bugs?”
“Hard to tell,” said Odelia as she put a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “Uncle Alec says the only way to find out what the prince was doing here would be to travel to Abou-Yamen and talk to his family. But he doesn’t feel that the expenditure is justified, especially since we have two suspects in jail right now that he feels are almost certainly the prince’s killers.”
“And then there’s the estate business,” said Chase. “Why did the prince arrange a meeting with an estate lawyer? If it was in connection to his personal estate, wouldn’t he consult with an estate lawyer in his own country? American estate law is different from Abou-Yamen laws, so whatever advice he was going to get wouldn’t be applicable in his situation anyway.”
Odelia threw down her napkin. “I’m going over to talk to Rogelio again. Wanna join me?”
“Absolutely,” I said. The more I dug into this mystery, the less I understood what was going on, so I figured that I just had to keep collecting more information. Maybe something would jump out at me that would make it all make sense at some point.
Just then, Harriet came staggering into the living room. She looked a little discombobulated.
“She zapped me!” she cried indignantly. “She actually zapped me with that weed killer!”
“Not weed killer,” said Gran, who was right behind her and was holding a can that looked awfully familiar. She held it up with a triumphant smile. “It’s bug spray, and it’s going to make us all richer than Jesus!”
“Croesus,” I murmured, figuring Jesus had never featured on the Forbes rich list.
