Блейз Клемент - The Cat Sitter And The Canary

I hesitated, “… yeah.”

She studied me for a moment, and then something softened in her face. “How much do you know?”

I figured there was no point trying to keep anything from her. I said, “I know you and your husband were in the witness protection program and that some very bad people were looking for you…”

“So, you’re not really a cat sitter are you?” She nodded slowly. “I suspected as much.”

“Huh?”

“Believe me, I’m not surprised.” She dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her blouse. “You seem a little too smart for that. You’re a U.S. marshal then?”

“No, no. Ms. Kramer, I really am a cat sitter.”

She frowned. “Then … how do you know about Albert and me?”

I said, “Last night, after I left here, a man followed me to a friend’s house. The cops found him hiding in my car with a butcher knife. He planned on killing me, just like he killed those other two women … just like he killed your husband.”

Her eyelids fluttered as she shook her head. “Wait. I don’t understand.”

“The woman that was found next door at Caroline’s house, Sara Potts, and the woman that was found in my driveway, Edith Reed, they were murdered to make it look like your husband’s death was part of a plan to kill me.”

Her lips parted slightly as her hands went to the center of her chest. “No … No, that’s not possible.”

“I’m afraid it is. They were hoping it would throw the detectives off their track.”

“But…” She brought her hands together and pressed them to her lips, suddenly looking like a young girl praying at the side of her bed. “I’m sorry … I’m just speechless…”

I said, “That’s understandable. The thing is … Elba, why did you hire me?”

“To take care of Jane, of course.”

“Yes, that’s what you said, but why? I mean, were you planning on going somewhere?”

She sat forward. “Wait a minute. Are you suggesting I had something to do with all this?”

I could feel my heart racing. “I am. Ms. Kramer, you knew that gunman was coming, didn’t you?”

“No … that’s completely ridiculous.”

“And you wanted me here when it happened. That way, when they found my dead body in that front room, they’d think I was the target, and they’d think your husband was just collateral damage … especially when they found that note.”

“ Note? What note?”

“The note the gunman planned to leave on my body after I was dead. They found it in his pocket when they caught him hiding in my car. It was written on the same paper as the notes they found on those two other women, pinned to their bodies with a pearl-tipped hat pin, which I would guess probably came from your shop. It said, ‘Goodbye, Dixie,’ but you probably already knew that.”

“Wait a minute…” She stopped, trying to find the right words, her mouth open, her eyes searching my face. I had to hand it to her. She was pretty convincing. If her career as a murderous, gold-digging model hadn’t panned out, she could very well have been a successful actress. “Dixie, I swear to you, I have no idea what this is about.”

I shook my head. “I think you do. And I think you’re the one who told those mobsters where they could find your husband.”

“No. That’s insane. Why would I do something so stupid?”

“I imagine you probably cut some kind of deal with them to spare your life … in exchange for the location of your husband.”

She stiffened. “Who in the world gave you that idea? One of those detectives?”

I looked down at Jane, who had hopped up on her perch and was bobbing her head back and forth as if she somehow sensed the tension in the room.

“No,” I said. “Jane did.”

Ms. Kramer stood up and pointed at the door. “You’re crazy. I want you out of this house. Now .”

I said, “No. You intentionally put my life in danger. I’m not leaving until you tell me the truth.”

She said, “I am telling you the truth! I don’t know anything about those two other women. I don’t know about any notes. I don’t know about any man hiding in your car. And I certainly don’t know about any crazy plot involving you. I just lost my husband! Does that mean nothing?” She picked up the birdcage and hugged it to her chest as Jane fluttered to keep her balance inside. “Get out of my house now, or I’ll have those cops throw you out!”

My legs were trembling. I took another deep breath and tried to maintain my composure. I said, “Ms. Kramer, this whole time I thought it was a miracle Jane made it out of that room alive—there were so many bullets—but then I saw where her cage was, and it all made sense…”

She said, “It was a miracle. I don’t know what I would have done if…”

“No,” I interrupted. “I mean the other cage. The one in the guest bedroom … the one Jane was in when that gunman opened fire.”

She shook her head. “Jane wasn’t in that cage. She was in this one. You saw me carry her out of my husband’s study yourself.”

“I did. And to be honest, with all the confusion at the time, I barely noticed the door to the guest room. I specifically remember it was closed when you showed me into the house. But after the gunfire, when you came out of the study carrying Jane, that guest room door was wide open. Elba … you forgot to close it.”

She stared at me for what seemed like an eternity, and then something broke in her expression, something almost undetectable—just the slightest shift in the muscles of her face. All the fire that had shone in her eyes was gone now, and she seemed utterly deflated.

She lowered herself back down on the couch and balanced the cage in her lap, staring at Jane as she spoke. “Miss Hemingway, I’m very tired. Maybe Rajinder opened that door, or the gardener, or, for that matter, maybe Albert opened it himself. We may never know. But, by all means, if you think I ratted out my own husband, if you think I’m responsible for his murder—all because you saw a goddamn open door—then, please, run and tell your detective friends right now. But leave me in peace. I’m done talking.”

I wanted to get out of there as much as she wanted me out, but I couldn’t go. Not yet. This woman had pulled me into a trap, like a spider lures its victim into a web, and I needed to hear her say it.

I said, “It wasn’t the door that got me thinking. It was something else. After we heard those gunshots, you ran away from me as fast as you could. You ran right into the house, and you went straight to the guest bedroom. You took Jane out of that extra cage, and then you went across the hall into your husband’s office, where you put her in the cage she’s in now, the one that was hanging in front of that window. Then you took the cage down and rushed back out, completely ignoring your husband’s dying body only a few feet away. I’d guess you were in that room no more than ten seconds.”

While I spoke, Elba had dropped her chin. I could see tears rolling down her cheeks, forming wet circles where they fell on the front of her blouse. Staring at Jane, she shrugged slightly. “Oh, really? And why is that?”

I said, “Ms. Kramer, all birds are sensitive creatures, but a bird like Jane is especially vulnerable. I’m sure you know there are all kinds of things that could make her respiratory system shut down. Things like gas from a barbecue grill, or car exhaust, or even seemingly harmless things, like fumes from household cleaners, or, in large enough amounts…”

She nodded slowly. “Perfume.”

“Yes. Perfume. It would have been a miracle if Jane had survived that gunfire, but to have lived more than ten seconds with all that perfume in the air … Elba, it’s impossible.”