Клэр Донелли - Catch As Cat Can

10

So this is what it feels like to be a prison warden, Sunny thought, looking up from her desk to see what Shadow had gotten into now. She’d chatted with Neil Garret while he tossed bits of fish to Shadow, who started catching them on the fly. When she thought her cat had eaten enough, she picked him up and brought him to her office, figuring he’d curl up someplace warm and take a nap.

He hadn’t.

Instead, Shadow prowled around the office, looking at Sunny and then the door, constantly going to rest his forepaws against the window as if to make sure it was still solid, craning his head as if he were trying to get a look at the fish shop next door. The prisoner didn’t just check possible routes of escape, however. He also did his best to sabotage the administration of the prison. Sunny had to keep a sharp eye peeled as Shadow nosed around papers, pawed at the wastebasket, and stared all too fixedly at Sunny’s cup of coffee until she finally drained it and tossed the empty container in the trash.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Shadow climbed onto her lap to watch her work. But that relief was short-lived as he eeled his way up onto the desk and across Sunny’s keyboard.

And when the computer goes down, they’re going to find cat fur in there and void the warranty, she sourly thought while trying to remove a suddenly boneless cat from her work space.

Someone appeared at the entrance to the office, and Shadow suddenly streaked from the desk to the door, with Sunny in hot pursuit. The only glitch in a near perfect escape came when the door didn’t open. Will Price stood outside, looking down at Shadow, who faltered, staring up at him.

Sunny managed to swoop down and gather the cat in her arms as Will entered. “Didn’t know it was Take Your Cat to Work Day,” he said.

“I think Shadow decided it was Take Your Cat to Town Day and stowed away on Dad’s pickup.” Sunny wanted to tuck back an errant curl that had fallen on her face, but her hands were too taken up with a squirming cat to do the job. Will took care of it, smiling down at her. “That’s right. Your dad went along for your meeting with Charlie Vane. So how was your interview with the pirate?”

“Not as many ‘Ahhhhrrrs’ as I expected, although it looks as though he almost wound up with an eyepatch.” Sunny frowned. “I don’t think I’d go so far as to call him a pirate. He says he’s a businessman, but he’s got a whole set speech to justify anything he does to screw over people he deals with. Somehow, I don’t see him getting good citizenship awards anytime soon.”

Will nodded. “Think I should bring him in and tighten the screws?”

“I think he’d just batten down his hatches, if you’ll excuse the term, at the sight of a cop. The only reason he talked to me is that he didn’t take me seriously. A lot of what he had to say started out with ‘tell your boyfriend.’”

“He don’t know you very well . . . do he?” Will said in his best Bugs Bunny impersonation.

“He knows enough to trot out an alibi,” Sunny told him. “According to Vane he was out to sea, fishing with two witnesses.”

Will lost some of his good humor. “Anyway, if he had a problem with Garret, why would he kill Treibholz by mistake?”

“Unless someone else was doing the job,” Sunny suggested. “Somebody who didn’t know Garret by sight.” She frowned. “But it would have to be someone he really trusted. His son and son-in-law were on the boat as his alibi witnesses. And from the way he complains about money, I don’t think that Vane could afford to hire a pro.”

“We’ll look into Vane’s associates and finances,” Will said. “But I still think the root of this whole situation can be found next door—or rather, that it comes from California, like Treibholz.”

“I was just next door, and Neil Garret was fooling around with Shadow, tossing scraps of fish for him to catch. Can you kill a person one day and do that the next?”

Will shrugged. “Distraction, maybe.”

“And everything that happened, discovering the body, what was that? An act? Was Neil ready to throw that little production for whoever walked in first thing that morning? He knows you and I are going out, so was it aimed at me?”

“Well, you are next door, a perfect witness, and he is behind on what he owes for the month. Maybe he kinda expected you to come by—or rather, that Ollie would send you over to dun him for the rent.” Will shrugged. “Or maybe he just panicked when you walked in.”

“Right,” Sunny scoffed. “The guy’s a mobster, and he just panics.”

“Nick Gatto was just a money-shuffler for the mob, not a made man.” Will frowned impatiently. “Or maybe he killed Treibholz and staged that whole rigmarole to confuse the issue. Amateur killers—first-timers—have been known to do that.”

Sunny remembered the way Neil Garret had frozen in the doorway to the freezer, staring at the dead body on the floor. “Well, if he’s an amateur killer, he’s a professional actor. I’d swear that he didn’t expect to find Treibholz when he opened the freezer door.”

“Back in California, the guy was little better than a swindler,” Will said. “That involves some acting ability.”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between convincing a grandmother to invest her life savings and reacting to a dead body,” Sunny argued. “I know how I felt and acted when I stumbled over poor Ada Spruance. I remember it. Sometimes I dream about it. Neil didn’t look as though he was faking when he saw that body.”

“Didn’t look. ” Will emphasized the word. “When I look at this case, I see motive sticking out a mile high. Phil Treibholz was a mortal danger to Neil Garret. He recognized him as Nick Gatto and could have hit men turning up here to cash in on the contract Jimmy the Chopper decided to put out on him. As for opportunity, Garret still says he was home reading when Treibholz got whacked.”

Sunny stared. “You mean he doesn’t have an alibi at all? He didn’t say anything more?”

“Poor planning on his part,” Will said. “Or maybe no planning at all. Maybe he didn’t expect to need an alibi. It might have started off as a meeting that took a sudden, dangerous turn. Val Overton has been working some federal sources to get the story on Treibholz. He didn’t just dig up information, he used it. Word is that he had a thriving side business in blackmail. Maybe he made a demand and things went downhill fast.”

“And Neil just happened to shoot him?” Sunny didn’t hesitate to put a pin in that notion. “I thought Neil came here after serving a term in prison. How would he get hold of a gun?”

Will laughed—sourly. “In the home of the brave and the land of the second amendment? Maine isn’t the strictest state when it comes to gun laws. You can get a piece, especially if you’re not a law-abiding type.”

“So Neil rates high on the MOM chart—motive, opportunity, and means,” Sunny had to admit. “But—”

“But you’ve got a feeling about our strongest suspect,” Will finished.

“He’s not the only one,” Sunny argued.

“The only one who doesn’t need to be seriously near-sighted, taking Phil Treibholz for Neil Garret,” Will replied.

“We haven’t really mentioned that Deke Sweeney guy yet.” Sunny frowned. “Charlie Vane threw out a theory that Sweeney might have sent someone to lean on Neil.”

“Another case of mistaken identity getting Treibholz shot?” Will sat in silence for a moment. “I talked to some old buddies from the Portsmouth PD. Sweeney doesn’t have a criminal record—exactly. Years ago, though, one of the guys in the fish market accused him of pulling a gun and threatening him.”