A Twist In The Tail

Marlowe preened her belly. ‘It did seem as if she was turning to us for help a little while ago here in the room, though.’

‘Yet she didn’t ‘get’ the hint that we were not concerned and she shouldn’t be either.’ The clam bag crinkled and Nero looked up at the humans. They were seated side by side on the bed, no longer paying attention to the cats. Had they eaten all the clams?

‘I think we need to figure out who has a vested interest in getting rid of the gulls,’ Ron said.

‘Are we really sure the gulls’ plight is connected to Charles’ death?’ Iona glanced at Nero. He willed her to pick out another clam for him and she did! But just so the humans didn’t think they were too eager, he let it drop on the floor before sniffing at it disdainfully for a few seconds, then hunkering down and eating it slowly.

‘I get the next one,’ Marlowe said.

‘Fine, but we can’t waste too much time eating. We have to point them toward the real suspect.’ Nero swallowed the last tidbit and licked his lips.

‘Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with the gulls. I could have been wrong about the letter. I mean it was only a few parts of words,’ Josie said.

‘What were the parts?’ Ron asked.

While Josie fished out her phone and showed the Weatherbys the picture of the note, Nero got to work trying to give them a hint. Who was the killer and what were they doing with the gulls? Now that it had been proven not to be the Weatherbys, Nero could think of only one person it could be.

He hopped up on the old cast iron steam radiator under the window. Luckily it was summer and the heat wasn’t on, otherwise he would surely have burned his paws. As it was, the radiator, with its fancy accordion of scrolled pipes, was not very comfortable. It was all part of the sacrifices cats to make for their humans. ‘The humans are asking the same question we asked ourselves earlier. Maybe this time Josie will listen and come to the same conclusion.’

Meroo!

‘Oh shush now, you’ve had more than your share of clams.’ Iona waved a dismissive hand at him without even looking in his direction.

‘I think I’m going to need help,’ Nero said to Marlowe.

Marlowe joined him on the dresser. She sat and curled her tail around him, then looked out toward the cove, her whiskers twitching. The moon was out and the last gull had gone wherever gulls go at night. But hopefully Josie would get their drift.

Merooo!

Mewo!

Merowl!

‘What’s going on? Is something out there?’ Josie came to join them at the window, petting the top of Nero’s head. He had to admit it felt good. He let down his guard and purred a few times.

Mew! Marlowe signaled that she wanted attention too, but she kept her eyes on the cove.

‘Something sure must be interesting out there.’ Josie petted Marlowe, giving her equal attention. ‘What do you see?’ Josie stared out the window. ‘Oh, I think I’ve got it!’

‘What’s that?’ Ron asked.

Josie whirled around. ‘Stella Dumont runs the Smugglers Bay Inn over there. The gulls have been hanging around her deck and pooping all over it.’

‘Really?’ Iona and Ron joined Josie, squinting out in to the night.

‘Not only that, but Stella has been seen lurking around here,’ Josie said.

‘And Charles was killed here,’ Ron added.

‘Do you think Charles caught Stella doing something to harm the gulls?’ Iona asked.

‘I wouldn’t put it past her to do that. Or to kill Charles,’ Josie said.

Nero and Marlowe hopped down from the radiator, they tails held high proudly. Finally, Josie had gotten their hint and now it was up to the humans to catch the killer.

‘I knew it was Stella,’ I said. ‘I should have trusted my first instincts, but I thought it had something to do with Charles’ cookbook. When I found out that it was Tina who took it, I ruled Stella out.’

‘But what proof do we have?’ Iona peered out the window as if the answer was out there somewhere.

‘Well, she does have a problem with the gulls,’ Ron said. ‘Remember when we went there for lunch and gull pooped in your clam chowder?’

Iona made face. ‘Yeah. Nasty.’

‘And my maid saw her skulking around here.’ Josie pressed her lips together. ‘I don’t remember if she said it was the night Charles died. I’ll have to ask.’

‘That does seem like a start. But it’s not enough to call the sheriff on.’ Ron’s words dashed my hopes.

‘But we have to do something,’ I said.

‘Indeed.’ Ron tapped his lips with his finger. ‘What we need is to set a trap and let her walk right into it and prove her guilt.’

‘Like what?’ Iona asked.

‘Something that would be irresistible to the killer. Something that would make them expose themselves somehow.’

I snapped my fingers. ‘Got it! What if we say we found a clue in the room Charles was killed and when the police run forensics on it, it will leave no doubt who killed Charles.’

‘Like what? DNA? A fingerprint?’ Ron asked.

‘Maybe.’

‘We might not have to be too specific,’ Iona said. ‘We can avoid the details, just a hint is better.’

‘But how do we get this information to the killer?’