Дебора Хоу - Howliday Inn

“What happened?” I asked.

“Oh, eventually I figured out that ‘Taxi’ was my name, but by then I think they’d gotten bored with the whole thing. They bought roller skates and gave me to their cousin who lives in town here.”

“Air pollution is a terrible thing,” I commented.

“Mmmm,” Taxi murmured, as he rolled over on his back. Just then, I remembered why I’d started this conversation in the first place. Interesting, I thought, how neatly he’d gotten me off the track.

“Taxi, I want to ask you something.”

“Oh, hello, Harold.”

“Where were you on the night of … uh … um … uh … last night?” I asked forthrightly.

“Huh?”

“Your whereabouts last night, Taxi.”

“My what, Harold?”

“Your whereabouts!” Taxi looked up at me as if his brain had just gone out to lunch. “Where … were … you … last … night?”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” He paused for a moment. Now, I had him! I could feel it. “In my bungalow, of course. Just like everyone else. Why do you ask?”

Oh, he was a slippery devil. But I wasn’t going to be fooled so easily. I thought how proud Chester would have been of my investigatory skills.

“The truth now, Taxi!” I said. “Tell me the truth.”

“Okay,” he said.

“That’s better,” I replied encouragingly.

“I was in my bungalow.”

“You said that already.”

“I know.”

“Why are you telling me the same story?”

“Because it’s true. And you asked me to tell you the truth, didn’t you, Harold?”

“Yes, I did …” I could feel myself beginning to falter.

“I’m sorry about Chester,” Taxi said then in a voice full of sympathy.

“Me, too,” I said, completing my falter.

“Want to play Rip-the-Rag?” he offered.

Downhearted, I began to walk away. “No thanks,” I called back over my shoulder. “Maybe another time.”

“Okay,” Taxi called out lightly. “ ’Bye, Harold.” And he returned to his tug-of-war with himself.

Not feeling particularly encouraged by the results of my investigation thus far, I was almost ready to give up and go home when I saw that Howard had stopped digging and was now sitting next to Heather in front of their adjoining bungalows. As I approached, I watched their heads move up and down and couldn’t help thinking how terrific they’d look on the back window ledge of an old Chevy.

“Good afternoon,” I said.

They stopped talking immediately and stared at me as if they’d been caught chewing on a leg of the dining room table. Neither said a word.

I cleared my throat. “Uh … good afternoon,” I repeated.

They glanced into each other’s eyes. No one spoke for what felt like a very long time. In a tiny voice, Howard finally said, “Good afternoon.”

There was a pause. I decided to plunge in.

“Where were you last night?” I asked.

“Not much in the mood for conversation at the moment, Harold old chap. Frightfully sorry. It’s just that we’re—”

“Now, now, now,” Heather interjected crisply, cutting Howard off from saying another word.

I had no choice but to plunge right back out again. “Well, another time perhaps,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” Howard said with a crooked little smile.

“Another time,” Heather said firmly. And then just to make certain I got the message, she added, “Goodbye, Harold.”

“Goodbye,” I said, walking away and muttering under my breath, “It was nice talking with you.”

Fortunately, I had no time to brood further over my lack of success, for I saw that Max and Georgette were coming toward me. I felt a little nervous. After all, they were prime suspects, and I didn’t want to blow my examination. I considered how best to approach them. Clearly, they were too smart not to recognize a direct attack. No, with them, I reasoned, I would have to be subtle. I would work my way into it slowly, craftily, never letting them suspect what I was up to.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” I asked casually, as they stopped before me.

“Oh, yes,” replied Georgette. She smiled sweetly.

“Right you are, Harold,” Max added.

“Well, speaking of what a beautiful day it is, last night certainly wasn’t, so where were you?” I was extremely impressed with myself. If only Chester could have been there, I thought, to see just how clever and subtle I could be when I put my mind to it.

“What?” Max asked, pretending to be confused.

I heard the dinner bell ring and saw Harrison making his rounds. Drat, what a time to be distracted by food. Just when I had them on the ropes!

I’d forgotten exactly what we were talking about, but I didn’t let that stand in my way. “A likely story!” I snapped.

Georgette looked concerned. “Harold, do you think maybe you’ve been out in the sun too long?” she asked.

An interesting ploy, I thought, trying to make me look like the suspicious one.

“Harold, pal,” Max said gruffly, “it’s been terrific chewing the fat with you, but we’ve got to run. Chow time, you know what I mean?”

I do indeed, I thought. Any excuse to get away, eh? “Think about what I’ve said,” I told Max and Georgette as they started to go. I wasn’t going to let them off the hook so easily. “You know where you can reach me if you have anything you need to get off your chest.”

Max gave me a puzzled look, just to keep me thinking he was innocent, no doubt. “Sure, mate,” he uttered, “anything you say.”

“Oh, Harold,” Georgette said then, “there is something.”

“Yes?” Ah, a confession at last.

“We’re sorry about Chester.”

I’ll bet you are, I thought. Just like you were sorry about Louise. But “Thanks,” was all I said.

“Hey, Harold, let’s go,” Harrison called out. “Soup’s on.”

As long as it isn’t split pea, I thought.

AFTER checking my dinner out for any uninvited smells or tastes, I plunged in. I was starved, which was understandable considering the amount of energy I’d used up conducting a tough and unyielding criminal investigation. The only thing that bothered me about it was that I’d unearthed no new evidence.

What I had unearthed was doubt. Doubt in my own mind that anyone at Chateau Bow-Wow was the culprit. Or indeed that a crime had taken place. Perhaps Chester had conjured the whole thing up in his twisted imagination. It was possible, after all, that Louise had run away, just as everyone had said. And it may have been just an accident that led to Chester’s poisoning. Perhaps all of it, I reasoned, was the unfortunate result of Jill’s carelessness.

It was then that I noticed the writing on the bottom of my food dish. The letters were smudged so that it was hard to make out what it said at first. Boy, I thought, the least they could do is serve dinner in bowls you can read. I was definitely going to complain about the service. I strained my eyes and looked into the depths of my bowl.

The last word was “now.” I had no trouble reading it because it was the only one that wasn’t marked up. After a moment’s consideration, I could see that the first word was “Hello!” The end of that word was messy, but “Hello!” it was. Of that I was certain. Because of all the black marks, the three words in the middle were harder to decipher. But having hung out around Toby when he did crossword puzzles on the living room floor, I was pretty good at working my way around black marks. So, finally, I was able to figure it out. With a great sense of accomplishment, I uttered my findings out loud.

“ ‘Hello! How’s your tummy now?’ ”

Fine, thank you, I replied silently, although my eyes are a little out of focus.