Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Advice. Purrfect Passion. A Purrfect Gnomeful

“I think it’s a lousy idea,” grumbled Brutus, who for some reason wasn’t a big fan of the sheepdog.

“Oh, sugar buns,” said Harriet with a light tinkling laugh. “Stop sulking for a moment, will you? Rufus is simply going to talk to the mice and then he’ll be on his way again.”

“So a priest, a rabbi and a jackrabbit walk into a bar,” Dooley began, but I immediately silenced him. I frankly wasn’t in the mood for any more of his lame jokes.

“I heard you made an arrest today?” said Gran as she expertly sliced through her piece of steak.

“Yeah, and then I let him go again,” said Uncle Alec, munching somberly on a helping of peas in butter sauce. “No evidence.”

“Oh, Uncle Alec,” said Odelia. “You don’t really think Dan is a killer, do you? The man can’t even swat a fly without asking it for forgiveness first.”

“In my experience the most obvious answer is usually the right one,” said Uncle Alec. “Dan was there, and so was the victim, and his fingerprints are all over the murder weapon, which, by the way, also belonged to him.”

“What about the UPS guy?” asked Chase, helping himself to a helping of mashed potatoes.

“What about him?”

“UPS claims they never sent anyone, so it stands to reason he could be the killer.”

Uncle Alec grumbled something, clearly not convinced.

“Are you sure this Heather Gallop person was murdered?” asked Charlene. “Maybe she simply tripped and fell and hit her head?”

“She was murdered, all right,” said Alec. “With a garden gnome, if you please.”

At the mention of the word ‘gnome’ Tex looked up sharply, rising from the gloom in which he’d been cloaked for the past twenty minutes. “Did you say gnome?” he asked.

“Tex is very upset,” Marge explained for the benefit of the rest of the company. “He discovered today that our neighbor Ted Trapper stole his gnomes.”

“And had the gall to deny the whole thing!” said Tex, his faith in humanity clearly severely shaken.

“Are you absolutely sure that Ted took your gnomes?” asked Gran.

“I picked them out of his garden myself,” said Tex. “Here, let me show you.” Animation had returned to his limbs and he got up and disappeared into the house.

“He keeps his collection of gnomes under lock and key now,” said Marge. “Afraid they’ll be stolen again.”

“Father Reilly’s gnomes were stolen,” said Scarlett as she frowned at a pea, pronged on a tine of her fork. Scarlett isn’t a big eater, and the amount of butter Marge likes to use when preparing her dishes had probably thrown her. You can’t maintain a figure like Scarlett’s on buttered spuds, veggies and steak. “We think it’s a gang of international gnome thieves, isn’t that right, Vesta?”

“Yeah, definitely a gang,” Gran confirmed. “We talked to several more people and so far three of them have had their gnomes snatched.”

“Surely Ted Trapper didn’t steal them all,” said Charlene. Charlene is one of those mayors who always sees the best in people, and it was clearly hard for her to believe that Ted Trapper would be an international gnome thief, or even a national one.

Tex had returned with a gnome clutched in his arms, darting nervous glances in the direction of the fence that divides his garden from Ted’s, as if afraid the man would suddenly pop up and snatch his gnome. “Look here,” said the doctor, and he turned the gnome upside down. “See this?”

We all craned our necks to see. On the bottom of the gnome a big red letter T had been written in permanent red marker.

“This is how I proved that Ted is a common thief.” He turned to his brother-in-law. “I’d like to file charges, Alec. Can I file charges? I feel very strongly I should file charges.”

“Sure you can file charges, Tex,” said Alec, as he ladled a second—or it could have been a third or even a fourth—helping of extra-buttery mashed potatoes onto his plate.

“Easy now, darling,” said Charlene, placing a hand on the Chief’s arm. “Your diet, remember?”

Alec gave her a look of alarm, then reluctantly returned the potatoes to the glass bowl and set down his plate—now completely devoid of food, buttery or otherwise.

“Um, come into the police station tomorrow,” he said. “Dolores will take your statement.”

“Are you sure about this, Tex?” asked Marge. “We don’t want to create trouble with the neighbors now do we?”

“I didn’t create the trouble,” said Tex. “He did,” he added, pointing the gnome’s pointy red hat in the Trappers’ direction.

Just then, Ted’s head appeared over the fence, caught sight of Tex viciously waving his gnome, gulped, and sank out of view again.

Clearly things weren’t hunky-dory in pleasant suburbia.

“So what’s going to happen next?” asked Charlene, who likes to stay on top of things in her town. She’d addressed her question at Odelia. “With the murder case, I mean?”

“Well, we interviewed Jack Warner today. He runs the Maria Power Society, one of two official Maria Power fan clubs in town, and he thinks Dan is the culprit.”

“Ha!” said Uncle Alec, clearly feeling justified by Jack Warner’s words.

“And why does he think that?” asked Charlene, as she directed a critical glance at the sizable piece of chocolate pie Uncle Alec had scooped onto his dessert plate.

“There seems to exist a great degree of rivalry between the Maria Power Society and the Gnomeos,” Chase explained. “Both are dedicated to keeping the memory of Maria Power alive, and their leaders have had it in for one another for years.”

“Is she still alive, this Maria Power?” asked Scarlett.

“Oh, yes,” said Marge. “In fact she lives right here in Hampton Cove. Though no one has seen her in years. She likes to keep herself to herself. Our very own Greta Garbo.”

“I think we should probably go and have a chat with her,” said Odelia. “See what she has to say about this fan club business—and the murder, of course.”

I detected now, through the hole in the fence, that Rufus was trying to attract our attention.

“Rufus is ready to join us,” said Harriet, who’d noticed the same thing. “Are you guys ready?”

I sighed a deep sigh. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said. I didn’t want to admit it in front of the others, but I found the prospect of four cats having to enlist the services of a dog to help us chase a flock of mice from our basement humiliating to a degree. I mean, if word got out, the four of us would be the laughing stock of all of Hampton Cove.

Then again, what else could we do? Rufus, as I saw it, was our last hope. And lucky for us, cats and dogs don’t usually seek out each other’s company, so chances of Rufus blabbing to our friends about this were minimal to non-existent.

And as we made our way into Odelia’s backyard, Rufus in tow, Dooley remarked, “You’re looking so unhappy, Max. Do you want me to tell you another joke?”

“No, Dooley. That won’t be necessary.”

I glanced over to Rufus, who gave me a goofy grin. Clearly the joke was on me.

Chapter 15

I have to admit I found it touching that Harriet would try to help me deal with the mouse issue. Though I wasn’t entirely happy with her solution, it was nice of her to cross over into enemy camp and recruit a dog to do my dirty work.

We entered the house through the pet flap, as is our habit, before I realized Rufus would never fit—in fact I sometimes have a hard time fitting through the darn thing myself.

Lucky for us Odelia had left the sliding glass door open and Rufus could easily enter the house that way.

“Nice place you got here,” said Rufus, admiring Odelia’s living room and kitchen. I caught him casting a curious glance in the direction of the four kibble bowls Odelia likes to set out for our enjoyment, and figured when this was all over, we’d probably have to pay the big fluffy dog in kibble. Mounds and mounds of kibble.