Deadly Diamond: A Murfy the Cat Mystery (4 page)

BOOK: Deadly Diamond: A Murfy the Cat Mystery
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“A cat’s eyes are windows enabling us to see into another world.”

––
Irish Legend

CHAPTER EIGHT:
The Crime Is Murder

Sunday was Alyx’s turn to be on the sales floor and Maggie’s day off. They rotated their schedules so that everyone had two consecutive days off, if not necessarily the same two days, every week. However, it didn’t always work out that way for Alyx and Maggie. Sometimes, one or the other worked seven days in a row taking time off only when necessary. They would be first to tell you that the hard work and sacrifice paid off. They had achieved their dream, and Alyx had said more than once that they were more successful than either of them had ever expected. In fact, there had been some discussion about opening another store. As far as I knew, the discussion had ended there.

The customer at the cash register now, obviously excited about his purchase, was telling Alyx how thrilled his wife was going to be when he gave her the California Pottery oblong platter in her pattern––roses and tulips in mauve. Alyx wrapped the plate and bagged it in the new, expensive, brown paper gift bags with the name of the store and picture of the store’s façade printed on one side of the bag.

Detective Smarts and another man walked in just as she completed the sales transaction, and she directed the two men to the workroom at the rear of the store, recently rearranged to make room for a couch and worktable. I followed discreetly.

Alyx sat at her desk. Detective Smarts, wearing dress slacks, a button-down, long-sleeved shirt and no tie, introduced his partner whose name I missed. I didn’t miss his sharp creased slacks and crisp blue shirt. The officers pulled up two chairs and sat facing Alyx. I perched on the worktable behind them, keeping a cautious eye on the two men.

“I’ll come straight to the point, Ms. Hille. We’re investigating a homicide. Mrs. Burns was murdered.”

“What? How?”

“She was smothered.”

“Smothered? How do you know that?” Alyx asked incredulously.

The detective rubbed his forehead. “Ms. Hille, I’m not going to get technical here. Among other signs, the medical examiner found bruising around her mouth, and her eyes were bloodshot.”

Alyx shook her head. “Who would want to kill a sweet lady like Althea?”

“That’s what we aim to find out, ma’am,” said the sharp dresser as he unclipped a ballpoint pen from his clipboard, poised to take down her every word.

“I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can, but I’ve already told you all I know.”

Detective Smarts inhaled deeply. He rubbed his forehead again. “Yes, and by telling me again, you might remember something you didn’t remember before.”

“Okay, I understand. What do you want to know?”

Smarts asked all the questions; his partner took notes.

“How well did you know her?”

“I met her last spring when she came in the store. The slant-front desk in the window display drew her in; after that, she came in every month to make a payment, and often to browse or chat. Maggie and I had lunch with her about once a month, usually at the café next door.”

“Were you ever at her residence?”

“Friday, when George and I delivered her desk was the first time.”

“George, who?”

“George Lucas is the woodworker we use to restore antiques or create new items from things that had a previous life as something else. Do you need his address or phone number?”

“No, we can get that.”

“You said she saw the desk last spring. Why did it take so long for her to get it?”

“She said she didn’t have the money to pay for it and didn’t want to put it on a credit card, so we arranged monthly payments. She was a proud lady and wouldn’t take it home until it was paid for in full.”

He looked at his partner and at his notepad to make sure he was keeping up with the notes and continued when he got a nod.

“According to our information, Mrs. Burns was a wealthy woman, meaning that she could have paid for the desk at anytime.”

“That may be true, and I don’t doubt it is. All I can tell you is what she told me.”

Detective Smarts stood up and his partner followed suit, hooking his pen back on the clipboard rather than putting it his shirt pocket, as most men would do.

They thanked her for her time and left.

Misty had been listening at the door, and heaved a big sigh of relief after I let her know that Smarts was investigating Althea’s murder and wasn’t after our humans.

“Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a lot of ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.”

––
Joseph Wood Crutch

CHAPTER NINE:
Althea’s Secret Life

Since Misty was the only one of us cats who’d seen the thief with and without his disguise, it made sense to post her at the front door, with Pooky nearby for reinforcement. The only napping allowed were catnaps, and that didn’t make anybody happy.

The well-dressed woman now standing at the counter ruined my first catnap of the day. I sensed an aura of suspense surrounding her and looked her over carefully.

Alyx asked her if she needed assistance.

“Yes, I’m looking for Alyx Hille.”

“I’m Alyx. How can I help you?”

I assumed the woman was there to see her about a decorating job––she wasn’t. She introduced herself as Carole Berth, Althea’s niece.

“It’s nice to meet you, Carole,” said Alyx. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I’m sorry about your aunt; she was a lovely lady and will be missed.”

“I didn’t see or speak to my aunt often, so I don’t know if she has any friends. She mentioned your name the last time I spoke to her. I know you’ve been kind to her, and I wanted to thank you and let you know that there are no funeral arrangements; Detective Smarts said you asked.”

Alyx nodded her head, and Carole continued. She’s simply going to be buried at Shady Rest’s convenience.”

“I did ask Detective Smarts,” replied Alyx, “and thank you for letting me know.”

“Did my aunt tell you much about herself?”

“No, not very much. I met her last spring when she saw the desk in the window. She came in to look and we chatted for a while. She seemed lonely, and I invited her to come back any time. Sometimes she came in to browse, and other times to talk. Maggie, my business partner, and I tried to have lunch with her about once a month.”

“Did she tell you she was in a mental institution for ten years because of that desk, or I should say, one like it?”

“No, she didn’t,” answered Alyx.

I wondered why this woman was revealing Althea’s intimate secrets to Alyx, and at the same time, intrigued by what she was saying.

After several customers came in the store, looked in their direction, and impatiently waited for assistance, Alyx suggested to Carole that they move to the workroom for privacy.

Carole took a seat on the couch and Alyx joined her, with me tailing behind. “Why did she move from Umatilla? Althea never said.”

“When my uncle died,” explained Carole, “Aunt Althea packed up and moved away. I was okay with it until she told me about the desk in your store.”

“I don’t understand. What bothered you about the desk?”

Carole took a deep breath, looked around the room, spotted the coffee pot, and asked if she could have a cup. Alyx apologized for not asking her sooner, and quickly stepped to the credenza, filled a mug with black coffee as requested, brought the mug back to her seat, and handed it to Carole.

“Did she tell you about the one like it that she’d purchased in Africa?”

“She told me that her husband––your uncle––was an overseer in a counting house for a diamond mining company. She said she joined him in Sierra Leone shortly after they were married, and while on their honeymoon, they attended an auction where she saw a desk like the one here in our store, and fell in love with it.”

“Did she tell you about the diamond hidden in the desk?”

“Yes. Althea shared the story with me and Maggie more than once, and it never varied, which led me to believe that maybe some of it was true.”

I too had heard the story once or twice about a young man who worked in the diamond mines and who fell in love with the daughter of a rich diamond company executive. Her father forbade the relationship, and they decided to run away. The young man stole a diamond, the means to their happiness together, and brought it to her. She had the diamond in her hand when the company guards burst in and shot him. They said that she hid the diamond in the desk as a reminder of his love, and so no one could ever prove that he stole it. She didn’t want her unborn child’s father branded as a thief. She never married and kept the desk until she died.

“More than likely,” explained Carole, “the story was fabricated by the auctioneer in order to get more bidders. My uncle said that from the time Aunt Althea brought that desk home, she became obsessed with finding the hidden diamond. She was positive there was a secret compartment where the diamond was hidden.”

“I never would have thought wealth meant that much to her,” said Alyx.

“It didn’t. Finding the diamond did.”

“She told me the desk burned down with the house after they left Sierra Leone. Is that true?” asked Alyx.

“Yes,” replied Carole, “it’s true the desk burned, but it was my uncle who burned it. That’s when she really lost it and my uncle had to put her in a private institution.”

“Did your uncle blame her for what happened?”

“No, not her––the desk. You see, about a year after she acquired the desk, their two-month-old son disappeared from his room. Althea was home and said she didn’t hear anything; she was in the living room searching for the hidden diamond in the desk.”

Alyx’s hand flew to cover her gaping mouth.

“She never told you about it, did she?”

Alyx shook her head. “What happened to the baby?”

“My uncle paid the kidnappers the ransom they demanded––but they never saw their child again––dead or alive.”

Carole took several sips of coffee and Alyx waited for her to continue.

“When she saw the desk in your shop window, she called me. She was so excited, she could hardly speak.”

“Now, wait a minute,” Alyx interrupted, “She told me her original desk burned. She didn’t really think our desk was the same desk, did she?”

Carole shrugged and reached for the mug, and held it aloft for a few seconds before she took a sip and set it down again.

“I don’t know. She never said she did; but in her crazy, confused state of mind, who knows.” Carole stood and placed the coffee mug on the credenza. “Her will stipulates that everything is to go to me upon her death. I don’t want or need any of her things, and that’s why I’m here. Would you be interested in buying the contents of the condominium?”

“Well, maybe not everything. Some of the pieces for sure––if we can agree on a price.”

Carole opened her elegant Gucci purse and took out a key. “I would like for you to determine what it’s all worth and send me a check. In fact, keep the key until everything is gone and mail it back with the check. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you’d organize and box her papers and such, and leave those for me. Then all I have to worry about is selling her condominium. Detective Smarts said you were also interested in taking her cat. I didn’t know she had one.”

“She told me he appeared at her door at about the same time she first came into our shop.”

“Well, if you find him, he’s yours,” concluded Carole.

Two thoughts came to my mind upon hearing this conversation: Was Althea’s death somehow connected to the diamond stolen from Hall’s Jewelry? Or was it something else altogether? After hearing what Althea’s niece had to say, I now had my doubts. What if in her twisted thinking, Althea believed that the desk in our shop was the same desk that she’d had in Africa, and she’d told someone here in Beachside about the diamond in the desk story?

“If you want to know the character of a man, find out what his cat thinks of him.”

––
Anonymous

CHAPTER TEN:
Simon’s Nocturnal Visit

David Hunter rang the doorbell and stepped back. Alyx hurried to the foyer, peered in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and added color to her lips before she opened the door.

“Hi, David, come in. I wasn’t expecting you for another twenty minutes.”

“I can leave and come back later, if you’d like.”

“No––it’s fine. I’m ready to go, if you are.”

“Good. The restaurant is well known for fresh seafood and is usually crowded. I’m sure tonight will be no exception. They don’t take reservations, so I came a little early if you’d like to have a drink on the deck while we wait for a table.”

“Sitting outside on the deck with a glass of wine sounds wonderful, even if it’s too dark for an ocean view.”

“I’m glad to see you look much better than you sounded when I spoke to you the other day.”

“It was a shock finding Althea like that. She was murdered you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. How did you find that out?”

“Detective Smarts came to ask me more questions, and he told me.”

The lawyer in David prompted him to ask several questions of his own, I surmised from my perch on top of the sofa.

“I’ll be glad to go to the funeral with you, if you like.”

“There won’t be one. Her niece came to see me today and said Shady Rest will simply bury her at their convenience when her body is released.”

“That’s not very common, is it?”

Alyx shrugged, “No, not really. Carole––that’s her niece––told me some interesting things about Althea. I’ll tell you on the way. I’m ready for that glass of wine.”

On their way out, Hunter looked at me and asked what the girls and I had been up to, and Alyx told him about all of us cats accompanying her to the store every day.

“Maybe they know something about this case that no one else knows,” he said with what I thought was a serious face. Was that an invitation for us to get involved?

Alyx hesitated before she responded, “You may be right. Nothing Murfy does is a surprise to me anymore.”

Was she thinking the same thing?

Keeping track of all the goings-on at the store, plus dodging the reaching hands of those who wanted to hold, and in a few cases, pull our tails, made the day an exhausting one. It had been especially trying one for Pooky, who was still sprawled on her back in the middle of the living room where she’d tossed herself on our arrival home.

As tired as I was, I waited for Alyx to come home. And as tired as I was, I thought I’d sleep all night; but I didn’t. In the quiet hours of the morning, after the night owls had gone to bed, and the day workers hadn’t yet arrived, I decided to sit out on the screened porch for a while. Alyx kept the pet door locked at night and when she wasn’t home during the day––I knew how to unlock the pet door and was out on the lanai within seconds.

I heard a sound, and my ears swiveled to identify the location of the sound. I stood on my hind legs at the screen door for a better view, and the fur on my back stood up when I saw a rustling of the tall ferns surrounding the small brick patio outside the door. A low growl, deep in my throat warned the intruder. Suddenly, the ferns parted, and Simon landed directly in front of me. I had no idea how he knew where we lived and when I asked, he smiled a secret smile and let me know that I had a lot to learn about our kind. He beckoned me to follow him where we could talk. He understood my reluctance to disobey my human, and at the same time, I saw the wisdom in distancing ourselves from the house next door when Smoochie, the Pomeranian, decided to reveal his presence with several loud successive barks.

The locked screen door that posed a problem for me was not a problem for Simon. He slyly unsheathed his front claws ready to slit the screen. Naturally, I was shocked at his destructive suggestion. Simon arched his back and rubbed his side against the doorjamb. He reiterated what he’d said before about learning what our kind could do for our humans. He convinced me it was necessary, and I suggested he do it in the corner, behind the larger potted plants, where it was a less noticeable. I winced as he sliced a clean straight line down the screen, all the while unable to resist watching his efforts.

Soon, I heard scampering behind me, and looked over my shoulder to see Misty and Pooky lurking in the shadows of the potted plants in the lanai. The half-moon in the clear sky lit up the yard giving the two ladies a clear view of Simon and me.

Among the three of us at home, Misty slept the least amount of time. Keeping everyone––humans and cats––company, kept her too busy to nap during the day. She usually made up for lost sleep at night. That night, she was still awake in the lanai when I returned. I deliberately ignored her as I sauntered past, and she meekly followed me inside.

Simon had given me a lot to think about––and a big decision to make.

The next morning, Alyx tried to roll out of bed, and couldn’t move. Pooky and Misty had her trapped under the covers. She reached out to the closest cat, which happened to be Pooky stretched along her hip, and tried to push her aside. Pooky didn’t budge.

Alyx squinted at the bedside clock, yawned, and went back to sleep until we decided it really was time for her to get up. I followed her to the kitchen where the other two felines waited for their breakfast. She refilled their food and water bowls, made coffee, and sat at the kitchen table watching us while she waited for the coffee drip cycle to finish.

“Pooky, there’s no question about it; you’re getting too fat, and we have to fix that; it’s not healthy for you, kitty-cat.”

The gurgle of the coffee maker told her the coffee was ready. She filled her travel mug, took it to the living room, and watched the local news.

Breakfast nibbling over, the felines ran to the living room, playing hopscotch on the way, and draped themselves on the back of the couch and chair. An hour later, Alyx was ready for work and so were we. She refilled her travel mug, and we filed out to the truck, all set for another day at the store.

Alyx, who was the first to arrive and busy setting up, didn’t hear Nelda noiselessly walk up behind her.

“Good morning,” Nelda said rather loudly.

Alyx jumped, and my housemates scattered. “Nelda, you startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry; next time I’ll be sure to slam the door,” she kidded. “I see all your kitty-cats are with you, or I should say they were until I scared them away.”

“I don’t know what got into them; they all insisted on coming––and here they are,” she said, stepping aside as Nelda rearranged a couple of chairs that were deliberately blocking the entrance.

“Well, judging from the treats the customers bring them, they sure like having them around. These cats have enough to keep them fat and happy for a year.”

Alyx reached for a plastic bag under the counter. “Thanks for reminding me. My cats don’t need all this food, especially Pooky, and I can’t give the other two a treat and not her. What I’m going to do is bag what’s here and bring it to the animal shelter around the block.”

It was a noble gesture on her part, yet so disappointing for us to see the basket empty.

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