Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Heat

“But cats are just a bunch of dumb animals. They can’t figure out that there’s a sweatshop in town. Or that there’s a black Tesla parked outside a restaurant. She’s hiding something, Chief. She’s got some secret informant and she won’t reveal her name. Yeah, it’s a she. She admitted that much.”

“Odelia is a reporter, Chase. Working with informants is what she does. And you know how a reporter feels about protecting a source. It’s important.”

“I know that. I just…” He gave an annoyed grunt.

“You just hoped she would tell you all her secrets,” the Chief said with a grin.

“Well, yeah. I mean, why wouldn’t she? We work well together. She knows she can trust me. I won’t reveal her sources to anyone.”

“Just give her time, Chase. And don’t push her. The more you push her to give up her secrets the more she’s going to clamp up.”

“So what you’re saying is I should just let her harass this guy Ziv Riding?”

“He’s no boy scout. He did organize a sweatshop.”

“That doesn’t make him a killer.”

“No, it does not. It does make him a very bad man. Though it looks like he’ll walk away from this mess. Guy lawyered up big time.”

“Sure he did. He’ll pay a big-ass fine and he’ll go on making millions.”

“Oh, before I forget, the NYPD guy I talked to said they found a link between Niklaus Skad and Riding. Wanna hear about it?”

He jerked up, almost dropping out of his chair. “What?”

“Yeah. Funny thing is, I found the same email in Skad’s account.”

“And you’re only telling me this now?! Show me!”

“Hold your horses, cowboy. Now where is this darn thing…” He messed around on his computer, cursed a lot, and finally found it. “Here you go,” he said, swiveling the screen and stabbing at it with his finger. “Read it and weep.”

Chase scanned the email, then his eyes landed on the crucial paragraph. “I know about your dirty little secret and I’m not going to keep quiet unless you double your investment,” he read with rising surprise. “This is non-negotiable, Riding. You better do as I say or else.” Say what?

“Huh? Pretty explosive stuff.”

“Jeez…” he said, absolutely dumbfounded. “Oh, my God…”

“What?” Chief Alec asked with a chuckle. “Just proves these celebrities are all in bed together. All one big happy family, huh?”

His brain worked feverishly. “So Riding was an investor in Skad’s business. And somehow Skad had found out about the sweatshop and was threatening to expose it unless Riding doubled his investment.”

“Do you think that’s what he meant with ‘dirty little secret?’”

“What else could it be?”

They stared at one another. “We have our killer, Chase. He confessed.”

“What if Konrad isn’t the killer? What if Riding’s car really was parked outside the restaurant that night and he’s the killer? Wanting to shut Skad up before he blew the lid on this whole sweatshop affair?”

Chief Alec shook his head. “I’ve got a confession.”

“That wasn’t a confession, Alec. That was a nervous breakdown. The guy didn’t know what he was saying. He would have confessed to killing Kennedy or being Jack the Ripper.”

The Chief thought about this as he picked up something from his desk. It was a fortune cookie. He absentmindedly toyed with it, then crumbled it under his fingers, took out the little piece of paper and popped the cookie into his mouth, munching down.

Chase stared at him. “What’s that?”

“Huh? Oh, something the guys picked up at the sweatshop. They had bags and bags of the stuff.” He lobbed one at Chase and he deftly caught it. He studied the fortune cookie and something clicked inside his mind. There was a nicely designed logo printed on the cookie. A Z and an R. Ziv Riding. Probably PR swag. “Alec?”

“Mh?”

“Remember how the coroner found a fortune cookie in Niklaus Skad’s stomach?”

The Chief stopped munching, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

Odelia’s uncle drew his hands through his few remaining wisps of hair. “Oh, Jesus. I locked up the wrong guy, didn’t I?”

“And Odelia was right about Riding,” said Chase, nodding.

“I should have known,” said the Chief with a groan. “That damn niece of mine is always right!”

Chapter 30

We were finally on our way home. This whole business with Diego had brought home to me the fact that I needed a break. I’d been up all day, and I needed to lie down and get some shut-eye. And we were just passing by the General Store when Kingman called out, “Max! Hey, Max!”

“Ignore him,” I told Dooley. “I just want to go home and sleep.”

“Max! Dooley!”

“I can’t ignore him, Max,” Dooley said. “He might have something important to say.”

“He always has something important to say, but I need to get some sleep.”

“Max! Dooley! Yoo-hoo! Over here!”

“Just ignore him,” I said through gritted teeth.

But Dooley had already veered off course. I followed him with a tired moan.

“Max!” Kingman said. “Meet Norma.”

I stared at the small white cat splayed out next to Kingman. The name didn’t ring a bell. “Hi, Norma,” I said out of sheer politeness.

“She’s the cat I told you about,” Kingman continued cheerfully. “About the sweatshop? I heard they closed down that operation. Can you believe it? A sweatshop? In our town? What is this, the nineteenth century or something?”

I studied Norma with more interest this time. “So you were out at the sweatshop, huh?”

“I was,” said the cat in a melodious voice.

“That was really brave of you,” said Dooley.

“Hardly,” said Norma. “Humans never take any notice of cats. I could come and go as I pleased, even slip past the guards and walk right into that place.”

“So do you think this guy Ziv Riding was involved?” I asked.

“Oh, definitely,” said Norma. “He came out there at least once a month, to check up on production, and do some spot checks for quality control. I’d say he knew exactly what was going on out there.”

Now this was news. Kingman grinned excitedly. “I told you she’s the real deal, didn’t I, Max? Huh? You owe me, right? Big time. Am I right or am I right?”

“You’re right,” I said reluctantly. Owing Kingman wasn’t much fun. I needed to bring him a piece of gossip at least equal in size to the Ziv Riding sweatshop story, which was going to prove hard. Then suddenly I got an idea.

“Was Riding out there the night Niklaus Skad was killed?”

Norma displayed a hint of a smile. “If I tell you, what’s in it for me?”

Let me tell you, all cats are hustlers. There are no exceptions.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I heard you can talk to your human, is that true?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” I said with a dark look at Kingman, who shrugged.

“So tell her to bring me chocolate. And not the cheap kind Kingman’s human carries. I want Swiss chocolate. The really expensive stuff.”

“I’ll get you your chocolate,” I told her. “But chocolate isn’t good for you.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“So? About Riding?”

“He was in town. He drove up to the farm in his black Tesla around ten o’clock. Wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly. I heard him talking to the guards. He said he had an appointment in town. Said he needed to get rid of a pesky problem and that he’d never been there.”

“Get rid of a pesky problem. Were those his actual words?” I asked.

She gave me a cool, lingering look from beneath her long lashes. “I never lie, Max. If you’d bother to get to know me you’d realize that.”