Ник Сайнт - Purrfectly Hidden. Purrfect Kill. Purrfect Boy Toy

“Well, toodle pip,” he said, and then he was off with bouncy step.

“What’s a toodle pip?” asked Dooley.

“Probably some Hollywood jargon,” said Harriet. “Come on. Let’s go!”

The door to the room we now presumed to be Opal’s study was ajar, so we snuck in, and much to our surprise we found it occupied not by Opal but by… Odelia and Gran!

They were discussing the case, clearly having decided to go ahead with the investigation without our presence.

“They didn’t even invite us to sit in on the interview!” Harriet cried, clearly annoyed.

“I guess they figure they don’t need us,” Brutus grumbled.

“They probably forgot,” I said.

“Or couldn’t find us, as we were hiding underneath the rhododendrons,” Dooley said, quite sensibly, I thought.

“Well, I don’t care,” said Harriet. “If they think they can do without us, we’ll show them we can do very well without them, too.” She made a beeline for the big mahogany desk and hid underneath is. And since I didn’t want to appear disloyal—or get into a big argument with Harriet—I quickly followed suit, and so did Brutus and Dooley.

There was a knock on the door and a man came in, followed by a woman. I recognized them as Hector and Helga, and they didn’t look happy to be there.

“It’s the evil Hector!” Dooley whispered. “Here to confess his crimes!”

“Or simply to be interrogated by Odelia,” I said.

“Hector and Helga?” asked Odelia in a kindly voice.

The twosome confirmed that they were, indeed, Hector and Helga.

“Take a seat,” said Gran in a much harsher tone.

The two did as they were told, and meekly sat down in the spot indicated. From underneath the desk we had a first-row seat where we could follow the proceedings.

“It has come to our attention,” said Gran, once more playing bad cop to Odelia’s good cop, “that you’ve been plotting something. And we would like to know what it is.”

“Plotting something?” said Helga. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m not into plotting.”

“Me neither,” Hector confirmed.

“You were overheard talking to Helga in the kitchen yesterday,” said Gran. “You said—and this is a direct quote—‘Don’t tell them a damn thing, you hear. Not a single word.’”

Hector had turned a lighter shade of pale, and Helga a darker tinge of crimson.

“Odd,” said Dooley, “how humans can change color like that. Like chameleons. Look, she’s gone completely red, and he’s white as a sheet.”

“It’s something to do with the blood flow to the face,” I said. “Some people’s faces drain of blood, while others get flushed with blood when they’re nervous or upset.”

“How do you—” Helga began, but Hector gave her a prod and she quickly shut up.

“You also told Helga to tell that boyfriend of hers to keep his big trap shut. And you said you’d know if he blabbed,” Gran continued the prosecution’s opening statement.

Helga produced a loud gulp, then cried, “I’m so sorry!”

“Shut up!” Hector said between clenched teeth.

“I know I shouldn’t have done it!”

“Shut. Up!”

“I couldn’t help myself. I told him where he could find it, I did. This is all my fault!”

“Helga!”

“No, I want to come clean, Hector. They have a right to know!”

“No, they don’t.”

“I knew you were the ones!” said Gran. “So you poisoned that coffee, didn’t you?”

“Poison?” cried Helga, her hands flying to her face. “No, ma’am! I didn’t poison no coffee!”

“Then what the hell are you talking about?”

“The wine!”

“Helga!”

“No, Hector, I want to come clean!”

“You promised!”

“I gave him the key, ma’am, I admit I gave him the key—but he drank it!”

“You drank it, too, you stupid woman,” Hector blurted out.

“See! He’s always calling me names! It’s the drink, ma’am. It makes him do stupid things.”

“Helga!”

“No, it’s true. You shouldn’t drink so much, Hector. You’re a very nice person deep down inside but when you’re drunk you turn into this, this… ogre!”

“Drink? What drink? What are you talking about?” asked Gran.

Helga bowed her head, and stared at her hands. “Opal keeps a special stash of her best bottles behind lock and key, ma’am, and she entrusted me with the key. Only me, as she knows I don’t drink, and she also knows she can trust me.”

“It’s not Opal’s stash, it’s Harlan’s,” said Hector, “and he’s got plenty more where that came from.”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s not your stash to take, Hector, or George’s.”

“George?”

“My boyfriend, ma’am. So word got out about Mr. Harlan’s secret stash, and the fact that I had the key, and so Hector and George started pestering me to give them the key so they could take a look.”

“We didn’t ‘pester’ you. You volunteered the information,” said Hector, angrily staring at the ceiling even as Helga kept staring at the floor.

“So finally I caved—you don’t know how convincing George can be, ma’am. And he told me that if I didn’t show him Mr. Harlan’s secret stash he would never speak to me again, and I happen to love that man, ma’am. One day I hope to have his babies—that’s how much I love that man.”

“Christ,” Hector muttered.

“You love Harlan?” asked Gran.

“No, George!”

“Uh-huh.” Gran looked puzzled, and so did Odelia.

“Humans,” Harriet said next to me. “They’re so weird.”

“So I showed him the cabinet. It’s right there, next to Opal’s desk.”

She suddenly pointed in our direction, and we all scrambled back, just in case we’d been spotted. But of course we hadn’t, so we scrambled forward again, like soldiers crawling through enemy brush.

“And of course the moment I opened it, it was as if I’d opened Pandora’s box. They kept drinking and drinking and drinking and I said Mr. Harlan is going to notice you’ve been raiding his liquor stash and who is he going to blame? Me!” She pounded her chest. “And of course that’s exactly what happened. He hired two detectives and now here we are. I just want you to know, ma’am,” she continued, looking up, “that I adore Opal and Mr. Harlan and I would never have done what I did if George and Hector hadn’t cajoled me.”

“We didn’t cajole you,” Hector grunted. “You were only too happy to dip in yourself!”

“One little sip, just to have a taste!”

“You’re a hypocrite, that’s what you are,” said Hector.

“See, ma’am! This is the kind of abuse I have to put up with!” And promptly she burst into tears. “Please don’t fire me,” she said. “I love my job. I love working for Opal. And I promise I’ll never do it again. And I’ll pay you back all the drink that was drunk.”

“Look, now she’s gone completely white and he’s all red,” said Harriet, who’d been watching intently.

“It is weird,” I agreed.

“Like a chameleon,” Dooley repeated.

“I once saw Chase’s mom turn green,” said Brutus. “She ate a piece of sardine, went green, and the next thing I know she’s hanging over the toilet making strange sounds.”

“I once saw Gran’s face turn blue,” said Dooley happily. “She had something stuck in her throat and almost choked. Tex had to grab her and perform the hemlock maneuver. She spat out a potato and then turned from blue to red. It was the strangest thing.”

“It’s called the Heimlich maneuver,” I said.

“That’s what I said,” said Dooley. “The hemlock maneuver.”

“Look, we’ll talk to Opal, all right?” said Gran, her expression having softened considerably.