I had to smile at that.ôSo whoÆs Walter Matthau and whoÆs Jack Lemmon?ö
ôWilburÆs Jack, of course. Neurotic neat freak. And IÆm a happy-go-lucky kind of cat, so I must be Walter.ö
ôYeah, I can see that,ö I said. The woman had left, and Wilbur grabbed a chair and came out to sit with us.
ôNice evening, fellas,ö he said. ôFeels like a night for love.ö
ôSo donÆt you think Wilbur will ever get married?ö asked Dooley.
ôI doubt it, Dooley,ö said Kingman. ôAfter all these years, the man is set in his ways, you know. Having a woman enter the picture is going to be hard for him. Someone telling him what to do, what to eat, where to sit, how to set the table and what to watch on television. ItÆs going to be impossible. Wilbur is more like a cat than a dog: hard to train.ö
ôSo no wedding bells for Wilbur,ö I concluded.
Something Kingman said resonated with me, though at the moment I couldnÆt really put my finger on it. Not yet, at least. I decided to let it go for now. It would come to me.
ôI wish I could understand what you guys talk about,ö said Wilbur. ôLike Vesta, you know. Or Odelia or Marge. You think they could teach me?ö
We all stared at the man.ôYou know about the big secret?ö I asked. But of course Wilbur simply stared blankly back at me, then grinned.
ôSee? You just said something important, I can tell. And now youÆre expecting an answer from me. But IÆm sorry, little buddy. I canÆt help you there.ö
ôI think a lot of people know about your big secret, Max,ö said Kingman with a shrug. ôItÆs a small town, you know. People talk.ö
ôWell, I hope Wilbur keeps it to himself.ö
ôAnd even if he doesnÆtùwhoÆs going to believe him?ö
Kingman had a point, of course. Who would believe a story like that?
ôHey, pretty lady,ö said Wilbur, and when I looked up I saw he was talking to Gran.
ôCan you help me out, Wilbur?ö asked Gran. ôIÆm dying for a piece of sausage.ö
WilburÆs eyes went wide. ôAbsolutely. My place or yours?ö
ôNot that kind of sausage, you pervert,ö Gran grunted. ôA real one.ö
ôOh,ö said Wilbur, sagging a little. ôYeah, take your pick,ö he said. ôPay me later.ö
Gran disappeared into the store, and moments later returned with a nice big sausage. She was already digging her teeth into the delicacy and drew up a chair and joined us.
ôNice night,ö Wilbur commented.
ôMh,ö said Gran, busy with her mastication.
ôSo you ran out of food, huh? Forgot to do your shopping?ö
ôI decided my family are going to be vegetarians,ö Gran explained.
ôOh? Interesting choice.ö
ôSo I got rid of all meat products and stocked up on vegetarian stuff.ö She sighed. ôMarge is going to kill me when she finds out. And so is Texùand Odelia and Chase.ö
ôYou chucked out their meat products as well?ö asked Wilbur with a chuckle.
ôOf course! You gotta eliminate temptation. ThatÆs the whole point of the exercise.ö
ôI bet you forgot to tell them about that?ö
ôYeah, maybe I should have mentioned something.ö
ôYou think?ö Wilbur asked, and guffawed loudly.
But then Gran hit him with her sausage and that was that.
ItÆs hard to argue with a big fat sausage when it hits you right on the noggin.
Chapter 32
KingmanÆs comments had given me some food for thought. And so the moment we returned home, I enlisted Harriet and BrutusÆs assistance once more to help me follow a hunch. It took a little while to convince the twosome, though. They seemed to think I was leading them straight into the Duck Liberation FrontÆs den again, subjecting them to a potentially dangerous situation once more.
ôAll IÆm asking is to look through EricÆs study,ö I explained. ôChances are that weÆll find a second phone, or his laptop or whatever. The killer must have contacted him somehow, and we need to figure out how and who was behind that message.ö
ôBut they already checked his phone, Max,ö said Harriet, who is no fool.
ôAnd his laptop,ö Brutus added. ôAnd they found nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero.ö
ôYes, yes, yes, I know,ö I said with a touch of impatience. ôBut there has to be something we can do.ö
ôMaybe the killer erased the message from EricÆs phone after he killed him?ö Dooley suggested.
ôThey checked with EricÆs provider,ö I said. ôSo if a message was deleted it would have been found. No, there has to be another phoneùitÆs the only possibility. Or a second computer.ö
ôSo why donÆt you tell Chase so he can organize a search of the house?ö asked Brutus. ôItÆs what he does best. Chase loves to get warrants and search peopleÆs houses. ItÆs one of the perks of his job as a cop. Snooping around in places other people donÆt have access to.ö
ôJust trust me, okay? CanÆt you simply trust me for once?ö I said.
ôThe last time we trusted you we were almost killed by a group of rabid duck fans,ö Harriet pointed out. ôSo excuse us for not leaping when you tell us to jump, Max.ö
ôOkay, fine,ö I said finally. ôIÆll just do it myself then.ö And I stomped off in the direction of the cat flap. If they werenÆt going to assist me, IÆd just have to fly solo on this one.
But I hadnÆt even entered the backyard when I heard the cat flap flap again. When I glanced back with a smile, I saw that Dooley was hurrying to catch up with me. ôWait, Max,ö he said. ôWeÆre an odd couple, and you canÆt just go off without your better half.ö
ôThanks, Dooley,ö I said, touched by this display of loyalty. I waited for a moment, fully expecting Harriet and Brutus to join us, too, but when the seconds ticked by and the cat flap stayed still, not even flapping in the breeze, I steeled my resolve and Dooley and I wended our way toward thehouse where Eric Blandine had lived before he was killed.
ôYou have to understand, Max,ö said Dooley. ôHarriet and Brutus were almost killed out there. TheyÆre still recovering from the ordeal. TheyÆre not used to being hunted down by rabid duck people. It was a very traumatizing experience for them.ö
ôThey were never in any real danger,ö I grumbled, not hiding my disappointment with our friendsÆ behavior. ôGran and Scarlett were there. They would have protected them from that frenzied mob. And besides, they might be duck fans, but they wouldnÆt hurt us.ö
ôAccording to Harriet and Brutus they were pretty upset, Max. If theyÆd had pitchforks and torches they would have used them, no doubt about it. Gran said they are rascalized.ö
ôYou mean radicalized?ö
ôShe said they value the life of a duck over the lives of other living creatures.ö
ôThat may well be true, but that doesnÆt explain why Harriet and Brutus would desert us.ö
It took us all of half an hour to reach the Blandine place. IÆd hoped for easy access to the premises, but when weÆd toured the house once, it became obvious there was no pet flap, no open windows on the ground floor, and no basement windows either. In other words: they werenÆt making it easy for us to carry out our investigation.
ôUp there, Max,ö Dooley whispered, gesturing to an open window on the second floor.
The window definitely had potential, but how to get up there? Luckily for us Mr. Blandine had planted a sapling once upon a time, which had grown into a sizable tree. Now IÆm not a big fan of the art of climbing trees, since IÆve had my share of close encounters with firefighters having to come to my assistance after I happened to get stuck in one, but this seemed to be the only way to carry out our nocturnal mission.
And so we went for it. First Dooley made his way up the tree, by digging his claws into the soft bark, followed by yours truly. And then it was a simple matter of balancing on a sturdy branch, hopping to the windowsill, and sneaking in.
We found ourselves in what looked like a spare bedroom, with an unmade bed and plenty of boxes piled up high. In the corner an ironing board stood, as well as a desk, but when we subjected the latter to a closer scrutiny, we found no trace of a laptop, phone, tablet or any other electronic device.