Diamonds Are a Pig’s Best Friend
©2023, Joseph L. Thornburg. All Rights Reserved.
(contains mature themes and violence)
| DRAMATIS PERSONAE | |
| The Coffee Detectives | |
| Caesar Campbell | barista at BaxCam Coffee |
| Innocenzio James | driver for NPS |
| The Ham ’n’ Hammock | |
| Hyheau and Derrio Dell | owners and managers |
| Brighton Toastingfork | handyman and animal steward |
| Kay Pukapu | cook |
| Rue Peaufobya | maid |
| Perrin Darcy Byron, Baron Yaxley of Emmersthwaite Nimrod Ferret Odobenus Gross Celeste Hartell Karen Sanderson Trudy Strickland Christopher “Chris” Wokoma |
guests |
| The Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang | |
| And the rest … | |
| Halo Prairieflower | professional psychic |
| Alexandra, Cadence, Patricia | baristas at BaxCam Coffees |
| Junnosuke Hashisaki, Dainty Busch | citizens-at-large |
| Officer Moby | East Kingsley Police Department |
| Sheriff Headon Letts | Yousling County Sheriff’s Department |
| unnamed sushi restaurant staff and patrons, police officers, sheriff’s deputy | |
“By the way, the real reason I came over today was because I was communing with the spirits and they have a message for you.”
“Oh, really?” Caesar handed Halo her iced barley tea and tried not to smirk. “And what would that be?”
“Someone is out to harm you.”
When it was clear Halo wasn’t going to say anything else, Caesar said, “And?”
“That’s it.”
“Umm, that’s not very specific.”
Halo shrugged. “The spirits tell me what they tell me. I tried asking for more information and they were very reticent.”
“Well, okay, thank you so very much, Halo. I’ll do my very best to keep an eye peeled for scofflaws.”
“Oh, good,” said Halo, missing the irony. She grasped Caesar’s hand firmly. “If the spirits tell me anything else, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Yeah, great, thanks.” Caesar finally allowed himself to roll his eyes when Halo turned to leave.
“She means well, I’m sure,” said Alexandra, coming up behind him.
“I guess, but I just don’t believe that psychic mumbo-jumbo stuff. Now watch, tomorrow someone will accidentally spill some water on me and she’ll say she was right.”
The door opened and Junnosuke walked in. “Hello, Caesar-san.”
“Hey, Junnosuke … -san.” He was still getting used to adding the -san suffix, although Junnosuke had said it wasn’t necessary.
“Is Innocenzio-san here?”
“Not yet, he just texted me and said he’s running a few minutes late.”
“I’m on the clock now, Caesar, you’re free to go,” said Alexandra. “Oh hey, Junnosuke-san, what can I get for you.”
“Nothing, thank you. I am going to lunch with Caesar-san and Innocenzio-san.”
“Hey Caesar, I thought you and Innocenzio were going to your bed and breakfast today.”
“We are,” said Caesar. “But Junnosuke-san is treating us to lunch first. Hang on, I’ll be right back. Forgot my phone.”
He ducked into the break room and went to his locker. Patricia was getting her lunch out of the fridge. She sat down at a table, her chair wobbling with great uncertainty on its legs.
“Here,” said Cadence, handing her a magazine. “Put this under the leg.”
Just then, Benjy walked in. “Hey boss, can we get some new chairs?” asked Patricia.
“What, for the break room?”
“Yeah, these rickety old chairs suck,” said Cadence. She rocked to and fro on hers to emphasize her point.
“Sure,” said Benjy. “Patricia, you want to order some?”
“Who, me?”
“It was your idea, so it’s your project.”
“But I’m the new kid.”
“People aren’t just drudges here; if someone gets a good idea, then they get to be in charge of it. Just nothing too fancy. Alexandra can show you how to access the store credit card.”
Patricia smiled. “Sure thing, boss.”
Alexandra poked her head in. “Innocenzio’s here.”
“You boys have a good time,” said Patricia as Caesar closed his locker.
“I still can’t believe you’ve never had sushi before!” said Innocenzio, opening the door to the restaurant.
“Well, pardon me for living, but eating raw fish doesn’t sound very appealing.”
“You know, they don’t just grab a fish out of the sea and slap it on a plate.”
“I know. I mean, it looks interesting, but …”
“You will enjoy it,” said Junnosuke.
“Welcome to Daikaiju Sushi,” said a young man. “Sit anywhere you’d like.”
“Shall we grab a table?” asked Caesar.
“Oh, no,” said Innocenzio. “It’s more fun to sit at the counter. See? You can watch the chef. He makes the sushi and puts it on little plates on the conveyor belt, then you grab what you want.” The conveyor belt formed a loop around the chef’s area and extended through a hole in the back wall into the kitchen and out again through another hole.
“Junnosuke-san, what does dai … kaiju mean?” asked Caesar.
“It means giant monster.”
“Oh, you mean like those films where the big atomic lizard stomps on Tokyo?”
Junnosuke nodded and said, “Please take what you like, Lunch is … how is it said? Lunch is on top of me?”
“Just ‘on me’,” said Caesar, “and thank you very much.”
Junnosuke and Innocenzio grabbed some chopsticks (“No, you cannot have a fork,” said Innocenzio) and they began grabbing at the plates. Caesar watched, at a loss where to begin. “Here,” said Innocenzio. “Try this.” He handed Caesar a plate with what looked like a little yellow sponge sitting on top of some rice.
“Oh my god, what is that?”
“Tamago,” said Junnosuke.
“It’s just egg, you chicken,” teased Innocenzio.
Caesar took a tiny bite, trying to get as few of the egg molecules on his tongue as possible. He chewed carefully as if it might explode, considered it, then took a bigger bite. “Hey, that’s pretty good!”
Junnosuke handed him another plate with something else on it. “Do you like shrimp?”
Now emboldened, Caesar nodded. He glanced at the big screen TV on the opposite wall. “Looks like they’re finally getting that forest fire under control. Bad enough it’s so hot without having a big blaze too.”
“I hope it’ll be cooler in the country.”
Caesar watched as Junnosuke mixed what looked like green toothpaste and soy sauce in a tiny bowl. “Is that avocado?”
”Wasabi.” Junnosuke shook his head in warning. “Very hot.”
Caesar was just lifting the shrimp to his mouth when there was a commotion at the door. A woman had suddenly bolted from her stool at the counter and ran past two police officers coming in. “Ma’am! Excuse me!” shouted the server. He looked at the chef. “Kuinige nano!” The server ran for the door but the chef said, “Ki ni suru na.” A strange yelp came from the kitchen.
“Something wrong?” asked one of the officers.
“It’s nothing,” said the chef.
“Please sit where you like,” said the server, feeling slightly defeated.
“Oh, hey guys,” said one officer, seeing Caesar and Innocenzio.
“Hey guys,” replied Caesar. The two officers sat down at the counter.
“What happened?” asked Innocenzio.
“That woman left without paying,” said Junnosuke.
“What are these coming down the belt now?”
“That one is yellowtail,” said Innocenzio. “That’s sea urchin—oh, you might not like that one. And that one behind it is mackerel. That’s my favorite.”
Caesar looked further up the belt at a plate coming from the kitchen. “Wow, what’s that big pink one?”
Innocenzio peered. “Salmon, I think.”
“It’s bigger than the others.”
“Yeah, that’s odd. Maybe it’s a special order.”
As the mysterious plate came closer, Innocenzio’s eyes bulged. The man sitting next to him gasped. Junnosuke sucked air between his teeth and whispered, “Maru de Abe Sada no you da …”
The man next to Junnosuke retched and bolted for the bathroom.
“I don’t believe it,” winced Innocenzio.
Caesar gulped. “Oh my god, it’s a pe- …”
Another officer had arrived, as well as someone from the coroner’s office. The new officer was talking to the staff and the customers. One of the officers who had arrived earlier, a Sergeant Moby, was talking to Caesar and Innocenzio.
“Any idea what happened here?”
“No,” said Innocenzio. “One minute we’re eating our lunch, the next thing you know someone’s … uhh, member is coming down the conveyor belt.”
“So, officer, what happens now? Could this be homicide?” asked Caesar.
“Well, I suppose one can lose one’s, as you said, member without dying. We could do a DNA test but that would only work if the owner’s DNA is in a database.” He took a deep breath. “Until a body shows up in the morgue missing its member, or someone goes to an emergency room or comes to us to file a lost property report …”—he chortled at his own joke—“… there’s nothing we can do but wait.”
“I hope this doesn’t mean you won’t try sushi again.” said Innocenzio.
Caesar just glared at him. “Come on, let’s go. Thanks, Junnosuke-san … uhh, the egg was delicious.”
Junnosuke bowed gravely. “I apologize for this.”
“Oh, don’t. It’s not your fault,” said Innocenzio. “Tell Dainty we said hi.”
Innocenzio was reading from his phone as Caesar drove. “Welcome to The Ham ’n’ Hammock, a restored farmhouse from the 1850s. Seven guest rooms with free wi-fi and cable TV. There’s a working farm providing fresh vegetables (in season), eggs, pork, and poultry. Several acres of forest and hiking trails, a library and games room, and an apple orchard.” Caesar parked. They grabbed their bags from the trunk and walked through the door …
“I demand to see the manager!”
“Mrs. Sanderson, I am the owner and the manager.”
“Then why haven’t you called the police?”
Two women were standing on either side of the reception desk. The one in front stood with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot. Occasionally she lifted one hand so she could bang it on the desk. The one behind the desk ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. “My husband is checking with the staff right now. Perhaps you just misplaced it?”
“What do you think I am, stupid? I did not …”—she made air quotes like a peregrine falcon brandishing its talons—“misplace my necklace! Someone stole it!”
Just then a man appeared at the door behind the counter. He shook his head slightly at the woman behind the counter. “Mrs. Sanderson, why don’t we go upstairs to your room and have another look?” he said.
“Don’t you patronize me! You’re going to hear from my lawyers!” Mrs. Sanderson whirled and nearly ran into Caesar and Innocenzio. Seeing their suitcases, she said, “If you boys are planning on staying here, keep an eye out for strange men peeking through keyholes at three in the morning!” She jerked her head towards the woman behind the counter. “I told her about that yesterday, and she didn’t believe me!”
“Mrs. Sanderson, nobody was prowling around at three in the morning,” said the other woman. But Mrs. Sanderson huffed, spun on her heel, and stomped her way up the stairs. A door slammed in surprise.
The woman behind the counter suddenly noticed Caesar and Innocenzio. She stood up straighter and a smile appeared. “Hello, welcome to The Ham ’n’ Hammock. I’m Hyheau Dell, this is my husband Derrio. Are you the detective? Although …” She glanced at her tablet. “We were only expecting one of you.”
“You mean the police?” said Caesar. “We’re not the police.”
“No, I meant the detective. The reservation is just for one, but we can add your companion if you’d like.”
“I think there’s been some misunderstanding. We won a weekend stay here. I’m Caesar Campbell, this is Innocenzio James.”
“Oh, okay, so you’re not the detective?”
“Were you expecting a detective?”
“Why yes, a Mr. Ferret. He called …”
“That would be me,” said a voice behind them. He handed a card to Hyheau, and one to Caesar. Caesar did a double take and thrust the card back at the man.
“You got a problem?” said the man.
“You obviously don’t know who we are!” snapped Caesar. We are the Coffee Detectives!”
“See, I told you you were the detective!”
“Oh ho!” said the man. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you amateurs.”
“Innocenzio, this is the man who jumped on our name.”
“Oh brother, what are the odds?”
“Well, I’m here for a little vacation,” said Ferret.
“Well, we won a weekend here.”
“Well, of course you did. There’s no way amateurs like you could afford a place like this.”
Hyheau cleared her throat loudly. “Mr. Ferret? You’re in room two, and you two are in room four. I’ll get someone to take your bags up. Cocktail hour is at five on the patio. Meanwhile, why don’t you check out the grounds?” She handed each of them a map. “There’s the vegetable garden, you can meet some of the animals …”
“My gosh, what a gigantic pig!” cried Innocenzio. He and Caesar had taken a little nap and had wandered about the farm. They had toured the garden and the apple orchard (“Help yourself,” said one of the farmhands), and now they had come to the animal pens.
“Not just any pig,” said a man in galoshes and suspenders. “That’s the Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang. Her name means ‘the sunshine of my heart’.”
Innocenzio waved at the pig. “Hello, Qinyang!”
“No, no,” said the man. “You must always address her by her full title. To do any less would be an affront.” The pig, however, didn’t seem the least bit affrontered.
“Okayyy … hello, Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang.” Innocenzio looked to the man, half-expecting to be admonished for not including the article.
“I’m Caesar, this is Innocenzio.”
“How d’ya do? I’m Brighton Toastingfork.” He thrust out a mud-caked, calloused hand.
“Uhh, she’s not for breakfast, is she?” asked Caesar, thrusting his hands into his pockets and pretending to be distracted by the pig.
“Good heavens no, not the Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang! She’s far too beloved for such a fate. She’s not for eating, but her offspring are. A pig like the Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang produces two litters a year, with seven or eight piglets per litter. She could easily bear over a hundred piglets in her lifetime!” He gestured to some smaller pigs frolicking nearby. Some chased each other in and out of a pile of hay, some spun aimlessly in circles, and some cantered like miniature pink mane-less curly-tailed stubby-legged horses.
“Poor things!” said Innocenzio.
“Says the man who always orders the triple bacon cheeseburger at McDougal’s.”
“I knowwww … but …”
Mrs. Dell came strolling towards them. “There you are! I see you’ve met the Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang.” She reached over the fence and patted the pig. “Don’t forget the cocktail hour. I hope you will come, you can meet the other guests.”
Despite the lateness of the day, the sun was determined to make things miserably hot for everyone. Caesar and Innocenzio had returned to their room to splash some water on their faces, then headed for the patio. There was an attractive woman in a savoy blue brush cut, sporting a monocle and, despite the oppressive heat, a tuxedo. She was listening as Ferret spoke to a heavy set older man with a walrus mustache. Derrio was fussing with a plate of hors d’oeuvres. Another man, dressed in a cool mint polo shirt and white slacks was taking a cocktail off a tray carried by Hyheau.
“Drink, gentlemen?” she said.
“Ooooh, what have we here?” said Innocenzio, surveying the bouquet of drinks.
“I recommend the mojito,” said the man. “Quite refreshing when it’s so hot outside.”
“Aren’t you Chris Wokoma?” exclaimed Innocenzio. The man grinned and nodded.
“Why is that name familiar?” asked Caesar.
“Don’t you remember? He was in the African Tune Tournament last year! Geez, you really should’ve won. You had the best song!”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but the winner was good too. Second place is not so bad.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I decided to take a vacation after the contest and since I’d never been to America, here I am.” He grinned again. “You are actually the first person to recognize me. I don’t think the ATT is very well known here.”
“I recognized you,” said a young woman who had just walked up. “But I wasn’t sure.”
“There you are, Trudy!” said the woman in the tuxedo as she walked over. She leaned in to kiss Trudy, who blushed and turned her head to receive the kiss on her cheek. The tuxedo made quite a contrast to Trudy’s outfit which was not displeasing to the eye but unremarkable: white capri slacks and a rose quartz scoop neck blouse. Her hair was a short cropped pixie, but of a presumably natural shade of strawberry blond. “How is your father doing?”
“Much better, thanks.”
“Hello, gentlemen! I’m Celeste Hartell. This is Trudy Strickland.”
Caesar and Innocenzio introduced themselves. “We just arrived today,” said Caesar.
“I arrived yesterday, as did Chris here. Trudy had to attend to a family matter. What do you two do for fun?”
“We solve murder mysteries!” bubbled Innocenzio.
“How exciting! You must tell me all about it. As for me, I am merely a professional bon vivant.”
“Mr. Wokoma, could I get a picture with you?” said Trudy.
“Of course, but just call me Chris!” Trudy fished for her phone, but Celeste had already taken hers out. “Smile, you two.” She snapped a few pictures.
“Omigosh, thanks!” said Trudy. “Your song should’ve won.”
Chris laughed. “If all of you keep saying that, I might have to demand a recount.”
Another man in his late forties stepped on to the patio. He was dressed in a beige herringbone linen suit with a crisp white shirt and chocolate tie. A peacock blue paisley handkerchief peeked from the jacket pocket. The handkerchief provided an interesting counterpoint to Celeste’s hair.
“Oh, your Lordship, so glad you could join us!” said Hyheau. “Everyone, may I introduce Baron Yaxley of Emmersthwaite!” Uncomfortable at suddenly being the center of attention, the man let the corners of his mouth rise just slightly in greeting.
“Omigosh, a real life baron?” cried Trudy, who went running up to him. “Are you from England? Ohhh, what’s it like being a baron?”
“Darling, do let the man get a drink first,” chided Celeste gently.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I …” She bit her lip.
The terse smile softened. “It’s quite all right, Miss …?”
“Trudy Strickland, your Majesty.” She tried to curtsy.
“Oh, please don’t do that. I mean, my name is Perrin.”
Ferret and the walrus man joined the group. “Howdy, y’all,” drawled the latter. “Looks like we’ve got quite a gathering of important people here. A baron, a famous singer, a detective …”
“Three detectives,” said Innocenzio.
“One licensed detective and two pretenders.” said Ferret.
“Oh, you two fellers are detectives too? Boy, we’d all better behave ourselves, right?” He winked. “And who is this young lady?”
“I’m Trudy.” She hesitated. “I’m not important or anything.”
“Now now, everyone is important in some way, right?” He looked at Celeste and winked. “I bet this lady thinks you’re very important.”
Trudy blushed again, but Celeste said, “Indeed I do,” and she draped her hand over Trudy’s shoulder. “And what about you?”
“I’m Odobenus Gross, of Gross Ice Cream. Retired”
“Oh? Wasn’t I reading in the news that your company just changed its name?”
“Well, it was originally Titillating Ice Cream, named after my wife. But after I retired, the board of directors decided they needed to jazz up the image, appeal more to kids today, so they changed it to Gross Ice Cream and began putting out really disgusting flavors.”
“Disgusting?” said Innocenzio. “Like what?”
Odobenus made a face. “Like Double Dip Dog Vomit, Sea Urchin Sherbet (“That’s why I told you not to try the sea urchin,” whispered Innocenzio), Cardboard Pizza Crust, Instant Diabetes Cookie Dough …”
“Gross!” said Trudy. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Quite all right, little lady, that’s what I thought too. But sales skyrocketed, so I guess the board knew what it was doing.” He shrugged. “Kids today. Go figure.”
The cook, a Kay Pukapu, appeared carrying a tray of champagne flutes and began handing them out. “Kay,” said Hyheau. “Have you seen Brighton? He was supposed to hang a picture out here this morning.”
“I haven’t seen him, but he did leave the picture just inside with a hammer and nail.”
“Do you mind doing it?” Kay disappeared inside and popped out again with a framed photo of a pig wearing a bright green cloche. Hyheau pointed to a wall. “Quickly, please.” Kay placed the nail against the wall, took careful aim, swung the hammer, and smashed her finger. She dropped the hammer and clamped her hand over her mouth so as not to pepper the guests with her rather salty language.
Hyheau was about to tell her to do it later when Celeste came up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bobby pin. “There you are, my good woman. Use this to hold the nail.” Kay gingerly took the bobby pin with her sore finger, and managed to whack the nail into the wall with a single strike. She threw the frame on it, handed the bobby pin back to Celeste, and marched back inside.
Trudy watched Hyheau’s hand as she tapped her flute with a spoon. “Everyone, I would like to formally welcome our new guests to The Ham ’n’ Hammock and hope your stay with us will be a good one!” Everyone raised their glasses.
“What a pretty ring!” said Trudy. “Are those diamonds?”
Hyheau held it up for all to see. “Yes, and rubies.” The ring was large, extending from the base of her finger to the knuckle. There were three large diamonds in a row, with a pair of triangular rubies at each end, resembling bow ties. A number of smaller diamonds surrounded the larger stones. “It’s worth about twenty thousand.”
“I bet a place like this does real good,” said Ferret, or at least that what everyone guessed he said. It was hard to tell as his mouth was pulverizing a fist-sized clump of peanuts. A few managed to escape their gruesome fate and were content to lie on the patio.
“Yes and no. Like most places, it’s seasonal. But the last several months it’s been more seas-off-al than seas-on-al.” She paused, but the anticipated titters did not come. “It’s been a bit tough lately.”
Ferret swallowed hard, making a revolting gulping noise. “You could always pawn that ring.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t. It belonged to my grandmother.”
Ferret shrugged. “I’m just saying. I got a friend in town who could give you a good price.”
Celeste and Perrin exchanged looks and rolled their eyes.
“If it’s family, you should never let such an item go,” said Chris. “And it’s such a beautiful ring.”
“It sure is,” said Gross.
“How long have you been here, Mr. Gross?” asked Trudy.
“I arrived two days ago. Nice place.”
“You said you were retired?”
“Well, after they changed the name of the company they decided it was time to put me out to pasture.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Mmm, maybe. But you know, I’m not a spring chicken any more. My memory isn’t as sharp as it used to be. Like, my first night here, I thought I’d locked the door to my room when I went to bed, but the next morning it was unlocked. And one of the hired hands found my cellphone in the orchard!”
“You should be more careful,” said the Baron. “Although I daresay nobody here seems to be a miscreant. You’re lucky nobody tried to steal anything from your room.”
“You mean like with that old lady? I was finishing my lunch and could hear her bellowing from reception about her necklace.”
“What happened?” asked Trudy.
“One of the guests said she lost a necklace,” said Chris.
“I did not lose my necklace!” Mrs. Sanderson appeared at the patio entrance. She was carrying a small suitcase, and a taxi driver behind her struggled with two larger ones. She turned to face Hyheau. “I am leaving! And I do not expect to be billed!” Kay reappeared just then with another platter of appetizers and pushed past Mrs. Sanderson, who regarded the platter with distaste. “Fresh vegetables, my eye! That’s a pretty sorry excuse for a garden. False advertising, that’s what that is!” She turned and stomped towards the exit; stomping seemed to be the only way she knew how to locomote. Everyone stared after her in silence.
“Cocktail wienie?” said Derrio, as Kay thrust the platter forward.
“No thanks,” shivered Caesar.
“When is dinner?” said Gross, looking at his Brolex watch. “I’m starved.”
The next morning, Hyheau and Kay were ricocheting around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. A heavy wooden dining table dominated the room, which had a large oven at one end. Next to it sat a long serving table. In one tray there were colorful garden vegetables mixed with scrambled eggs. Another tray held potatoes, and a mosaic of bacon and sausages decorated a third. Innocenzio started to reach for the bacon, but then saw a fourth tray next to it. It looked like the tray with the eggs, except there was also what appeared to be bacon, but a little sign in front of it read Tofu Scramble and Bacon-Terfeit. He hesitated, then picked up a piece of the Bacon-Terfeit, sniffed it, and put it on his plate.
Two urns of coffee were percolating away, and a commercial toaster was spitting out slices like a copy machine. Caesar and Innocenzio took their seats. Mr. Gross sat at one end; the seat at the other end was empty. Trudy sat across from Caesar; the seat to her left was unoccupied. Between Trudy and Gross sat Ferret. Gross was polishing off the last of his eggs; Ferret had only just begun. Trudy had no food in front of her. She kept looking towards the door to the stairwell.
“Aren’t you eating?” asked Innocenzio.
“Oh, I’m just waiting for Celeste. She said she had to take care of something and she’d be right down.”
“Where’s Chris?” asked Caesar.
“He said he wasn’t going to eat breakfast,” said Gross. “He wanted to take a walk.”
Rue Peaufobya, the maid, came running in.
“Mrs. Dell!” When everyone turned to look at her, she walked closer to Hyheau and whispered in her ear.
Mr. Dell came in. “Something wrong, Rue?” He went to stand next to Hyheau and put his arm around her waist.
Rue looked at Hyheau uncertainly, but Hyheau said, “Rue says she heard the Baron cry out just now.”
Rue nodded. “I knocked on his door but he didn’t respond. I didn’t want to just go in, but I thought something might be wrong so I tried the door. I unlocked it with my key but it was bolted shut.”
Mr. Dell bolted up the stairs, followed by Caesar and Innocenzio, then Rue. Halfway up they ran into Celeste.
“What’s going on?”
“Trouble maybe,” said Caesar, as the group rushed past her.
Mr. Dell charged at the Baron’s door with his shoulder. It didn’t budge. He stepped back as far as he could in the narrow hallway and charged again. This time the door flew open. Inside was the Baron, sitting on top of what was left of a coffee table. His head lolled at a strange angle, like a half-inflated balloon tied to a stick. Compared to how elegantly he dressed for the cocktail party the day before, he looked almost slovenly in a t-shirt and sweatpants. A slipper was still on his right foot, while its mate was sitting alone a few feet away. Caesar put his ear to the Baron’s mouth, then to his chest. He shook his head at Innocenzio, who fished out his phone.
“Let’s leave everything alone until the police arrive,” said Caesar, who began ushering Derrio and Rue out.
Ferret appeared at the top of the stairs. “What’s the matter?”
“The Baron is dead!” cried out Rue.
“Call 911!”
“We’ve already done that,” said Caesar.
“I also called Lt. Tennant,” said Innocenzio.
“Who’s that?” said Ferret.
“He’s with the East Kingsley Police Department, Homicide Division.” Then, to Caesar, he said, “I got his voicemail. I sent him a text, too.”
“Oh, I see!” said Ferret. “And I suppose this lieutenant’s a personal friend of yours?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Caesar, “he is.”
Ferret looked slightly cowed but refused to back down. “Well, how nice. You boys will be world famous detectives in no time with friends like that.”
Innocenzio was looking at the door. “Hey, Caesar, check this out.” He pointed at the face plate.
“Don’t touch anything!” shouted Ferret.
“Yes, we know,” moaned Caesar. “What is it, Innocenzio?”
“Rue said the door was bolted, but not locked, but look. It’s not bolted now.”
“Derrio probably broke it when he broke down the door.”.
“No,” said Ferret. “That wouldn’t make a bolt retract.” He pointed at the strike plate. “It’s intact. If the door had been bolted there should be some damage … hey! Why am I telling you amateurs any of this?” He turned his back on them.
“Knock it off, okay?” said Caesar. “We’ve got a dead man here. Try to show a little decorum.”
“Caesar? Tennant texted back. We’re outside city limits. He said we should contact Sheriff Headon Letts.” He dialed.
When Innocenzio had finished the call, Caesar led him to the window. “Look. It’s locked.”
Innocenzio nodded, then looked around the room. There was an open suitcase on the bed. He took a pen from his pocket and gently lifted some neatly folded shirts. Underneath, there was a small pouch with a flap on one end. Innocenzio was able to lift the flap enough to see inside.
“Look, Caesar. These are funny looking tools. Was he a dentist?”
“Those are lock picks.”
“Why would a Baron need lock picks?”
“I don’t know, but let’s go back downstairs and wait for the sheriff to arrive.”
They arrived at the dining room. “Anything the matter, gentlemen?” asked Celeste.
“The Baron’s been murdered,” said Ferret.
Trudy gasped. “But he was just here!”
“Now we don’t know yet that he was murdered,” said Innocenzio. “Maybe he slipped and fell against the table. I mean, if the door was bolted, how could someone get in to murder him?”
“And what did you mean, Trudy,” said Caesar, “about him just being here?”
“Some of us were at the table already this morning. Me, him, and him.” She pointed at Ferret and Gross. “Then the Baron came in. He was just about to sit down when he said he left some pills upstairs, so he left.” She swallowed. “And that was the last we saw of him!”
“Incidentally, why would someone want to kill the Baron?” asked Caesar. “I mean he just arrived a couple of days ago, right?”
“Four days ago,” said Hyheau. “I don’t know if this is related, but my ring is missing. And, the Baron was a fake.”
“A fake?”
“He booked a room and said he was Baron Yaxley of Emmersthwaite. I’m kind of a royalty buff so I looked him up. There’s no such person.”
“Did you confront him with this when he arrived?”
“Hey, as long as guests pay their bills and don’t make trouble, I don’t care if they want to call themselves Henry the VIII or Zeus of Mount Olympus. And …” She reached into her pocket and held up a bit of peacock blue cloth. “I found this in my room.
“That’s the Baron’s handkerchief,” said Caesar.
“It might just be coincidence your diamond is missing and the Baron is dead,” said Innocenzio.
“Well, I don’t think so,” said Derrio. “My wife was showing him the ring yesterday. So if he’s a fake baron, maybe he’s a thief and decided to steal it.”
The lock pick set made that seem a likely scenario to Caesar, but he said, “Let’s not jump to conclusions. We can’t make that assumption until the ring is found.”
“If it’s found.”
“I’d better go get Brighton,” said Derrio. “I’m sure the sheriff will want to talk to everyone.” As he headed out the door, he stepped aside to let Chris in.
“Hello, Mr. Dell.” Chris looked over Derrio’s shoulder and saw the somber group at the dining table. “Something wrong?”
“Go on in, you’ll find out.” He left.
“Hey everyone, what’s going on?”
“Where have you been?” barked Ferret.
Chris was confused by the tone, but answered anyway. “I was out for a walk. I told Mr. Gross that before I left.”
“The Baron, or rather the fake Baron, has been murdered,” said Ferret.
“Or died in an accident,” said Caesar.
“A murder? No way!” Chris shrugged. “Well, I don’t know anything about that. And what do you mean, fake Baron? He’s a fake? How did he die?”
“His neck was snapped,” said Ferret. “So Chris, when exactly did you leave for this alleged walk of yours?”
“Chris,” said Caesar, “you don’t have to answer. He’s not the police.”
“You keep out of this!”
“I don’t mind,” said Chris. “I left, oh, maybe an hour and a half ago.”
“And can someone vouch for your whereabouts?” said Ferret.
Chris looked at him. “Wait, you think I did this? Why would I want to kill that man?”
“I’m just asking some routine questions.”
Chris shrugged again. “No, I was alone. I like early morning walks. It’s a beautiful place here, and I wanted to see the sunrise. That’s all.”
“Do you know anything about Mrs. Dell’s ring?”
“You mean the big one she was showing yesterday? Why?”
“It’s missing.”
“And you think I did that too?”
“I just have a few more questions …”
“Well, I think I’m done answering your questions!”
“That just makes you more suspicious, and when the sheriff arrives I’ll tell him so.”
Chris looked at the others. “I don’t believe this. I come here on vacation and now this … this man is practically accusing me of murder and theft!”
“Don’t let him get to you, Chris.”
“Yes!” cried Trudy. She turned to face Ferret. “I think you’re horrible. And if the Baron was murdered, does that mean the killer is one of us?”
“I found Brighton,” said Derrio, appearing at the door. “Near the pig pen.”
Ferret cleared his throat. “I think I should search all of you, save the sheriff some time.”
Celeste laughed and turned out her pockets with a flourish. “Be my guest!”
“Don’t you need a warrant?” asked Mr. Gross.
“This is considered an exigent circumstance,” said Ferret. “If I don’t search you now then there’s opportunity for the culprit to make off with the ring.”
“Except Ferret isn’t the police,” said Caesar. “He’s not authorized to search anyone.”
“I’m more authorized than you two phonies!” Ferret suddenly whirled and faced Celeste. “And now that I think about it, what about you? You were upstairs when all this happened.”
Celeste regarded him coolly. “So I was.”
“I told you she had something to take care of,” said Trudy.
“And what that might have been?”
Celeste smiled, took a breath, then said rather matter-of-factly, “Not that it’s any of your business, but there are certain things to which a lady has to attend on a regular basis that are best done in private.” Trudy cocked her head to one side and frowned.
“Oh,” said Ferret. “Ohhh. Well, that’s still not an alibi. We only have your word for it.”
“Do you want proof?”
A piece of Ferret’s breakfast must have made its way back up his esophagus and down his trachea, for he choked. “Um, that’s okay.”
“Oh, look at my floor!” cried Rue. Everyone looked at her floor. There were clumps of what seemed to be mud and grass. Rue peered more carefully. “Oh, for crying out loud! It’s pig manure! Now I have to clean this up!”
“Well, don’t look at me!” cried Brighton. “I haven’t been in the pen yet today. See?” He pointed at his boots, which were worn but clean.
Rue glared at everyone and was about to voice an opinion when Derrio interrupted. “Let’s not discuss this in front of the guests.”
“Wait a minute, Rue,” asked Caesar. “Are you sure it was the Baron’s voice you heard?”
Rue was grateful for the distraction from the revolting task. “I …” She considered this carefully. “Well, I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure it came from his room.”
“We only have your word for it,” smirked Ferret.
“Will you stop saying that?” moaned Innocenzio.
Rue leapt to her own defense. “What are you saying? It was bolted, I swear it! I couldn’t open it!”
“It’s okay, Rue,” said Derrio. “Nobody is accusing you of anything.”
“Saaay,” said Ferret, looking at Brighton. “You were gone too. I don’t suppose you know anything about any of this?”
Brighton scratched his butt and snorffled his sinuses. “I was on my way to snip-snip the piglets.”
“Snip-snip?” asked Trudy.
“You know, flop and chop.” Trudy just stared at him, puzzled. “Give ’em seedless grapes. Sack-upuncture. Knock a couple out of the park. ” He mimed cutting with scissors. “My goodness, what do they teach you city kids? You have to hack off their family jewels when they’re newborn or you get boar taint in your sausages! And we don’t want that, now do we?” He took off his hat and wiped a grimy sleeve across his forehead. “Of course, some folks say that’s kinda cruel, but our pigs wouldn’t be organic if we used that improvac stuff, right? Nope, the old fashioned snip-snip keeps androstenone and skatole out of yer sausages.”
“Ska-what?” Trudy’s eyes couldn’t make up their minds if they should widen or narrow.
“The taste of feces,” said Caesar. Trudy and Innocenzio staggered. Brighton roared with laughter.
“Excuse me,” said Ferret. “Anyway, Brighton, so you were going to the pen to uhh … and then what happened?”
“Mr. Dell came down and said the Baron was dead and I should come back to the house.”
“And no one can vouch for your whereabouts?”
Brighton pointed at Derrio. “Well, him. He was with me the whole time.”
“I meant before he found you.”
“I don’t know where Mr. Dell was. Oh, you mean me. I went to say good morning to the pigs before I went to get the snip-snip tools. You can ask them if you’d like!”
“Uhh, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Gross scratched his head. “Well, we have an abundance of detectives here, solving this should be no trouble at all, right?”
“Excuse me. Only I am a detective,” said Ferret.
Innocenzio had had enough. “Listen, you. We’re just as good as you. Better. We’ll solve this before you do!”
Ferret scoffed. “Care to make a wager on that?”
Innocenzio hesitated, but Caesar spoke up. “You bet. What are the stakes?”
“If I finger the killer and find the ring first, you have to stop hassling me about my work and the hashtags and all that. In fact, you have to put my business cards in your sad little coffeeshop.”
“Caesar …” began Innocenzio.
“Okay, fine. And if we solve the murder and find the ring first, you have to change your business name to something not the least bit coffee-related.”
“Oh, puh-leeze, this will be like taking candy from a baby. You’re on. I’ll drop off my cards after the weekend.”
“Honey, you’ll have to call the insurance company about the ring,” said Derrio.
Hyheau nodded glumly. “I guess. I know it’s covered but I’d just rather have it back.”
Celeste walked up to the two men and whispered. “Listen, can I speak to you? Confidentially?”
“Can it wait?” said Caesar. “Innocenzio, there’s something I want to check out.”
“It really can’t,” said Celeste.
“Can you just tell me, and I’ll tell Caesar later?” said Innocenzio. She nodded. Caesar left.
“Let’s go somewhere private,” said Celeste, noticing Trudy watching her. They climbed the stairs to Caesar and Innocenzio’s room.
“I don’t want to speak to the sheriff, and I didn’t want to talk to that boor of a detective. But Chris is innocent.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I saw him when he was out for his walk. He was in the apple orchard.”
“You mean just before breakfast, right?” She nodded. “Did you hear or see anything to do with the Baron? You were upstairs after all.”
“I did hear Kay knocking on his door. Well, I heard someone knocking on a door. I didn’t see anything, I just heard.”
“And then?”
“I heard someone go downstairs. And then another moment later, I heard someone else go downstairs.”
“Then you came down after that? When we ran into you on the stairs?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s all you heard or saw?”
“Look. I think I can trust you. If what I have to tell you has nothing to do with the Baron’s death, will you not tell the sheriff or especially Trudy, that you heard it from me?”
“I don’t know. That depends on what it is.”
Celeste looked to one side and sighed. “I’m only doing this to help Chris. He has no one to corroborate his story about going for a walk, and I don’t want to see an innocent man accused of something he didn’t do.”
“Where did you see him from?”
“My window.”
“And you saw him in the apple orchard.”
“Yes.”
If Celeste thought her explanation would satisfy him, she was mistaken. “Hang on. Your bedroom window faces north; the apple orchard is to the south. Are you making this up to help Chris?”
“No, no, not at all. He really was out in the apple orchard.”
“Then where did you really see him from?”
Celeste sighed again. “From the Dells’ bedroom window.”
“Oh, ho!” said Innocenzio. “And what were you doing in there?”
“Come with me.” Celeste led him out the door to the next room, the one she shared with Trudy. Once inside, she opened a travel bag, pulled out a tampon case, unzipped it, and pulled out something shiny.
“Ah, is that Mrs. Sanderson’s necklace?”
She nodded. “I helped myself to it the night before you guys arrived. I’m what you would call an old-fashioned cat burglar.”
“Which is why someone with extremely short hair has bobby pins, right?”
Celeste nodded. “I was in the Dells’ room this morning to purloin her ring, but it wasn’t there. I guess the Baron got there first. But that’s all. I did not kill the Baron, I didn’t see who did it, and I don’t have Hyheau’s ring.” She handed the necklace to Innocenzio. “You can give this back if you want. You could tell everyone you found it behind a sofa or something. But please don’t tell Trudy. It would break her heart if she knew to what I got up.”
Innocenzio thought for a moment, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll see what we can do, but no promises.” He sent a text to Caesar:
MUST TALK ASAP CHRIS IS INNOCENT
A moment later, he received a reply:
ON MY WAY
“Let’s go see Caesar.”
Caesar met them at the bottom of the stairs. Trudy was sitting on a step with a magazine, flipping through the pages in a distracted fashion.
“Excuse us one moment.” The two men stepped into the library, leaving the two women behind.
“Celeste, what’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Does this have to do with the Baron?”
“Perhaps.”
Trudy threw the magazine down. It fell against a tread and slid down two more, pages flapping like the tentacles of a drunken octopus, before coming to a rest. “I hate when you play mysterious like this! Are you in trouble or something?”
“Listen, my love …”
But before Celeste could finish, the two men reemerged. Caesar said, “Can you three get everyone together in the dining room? I’ve got one last little thing to do.”
Everyone was sitting around the dining table, aside from Innocenzio, who stood at the head. Caesar stepped through the door. “Okay, everyone, let’s get started.” He stepped aside and a man in a sheriff’s uniform walked in. Behind him, waiting in the hall, was a deputy.
“Everyone, this is Sheriff Letts.”
“When did you get here?” asked Hyheau.
“Just a few minutes ago, ma’am.”
“Oh?” said Ferret. “I suppose you have the ring?”
“No, I don’t have it,” said Caesar, “but we know how the Baron died.”
“Well, I’ll be!” said Gross. “How?”
Caesar took a deep breath. “This seemed to be an impossible mystery. The Baron was found dead in his room, with the window locked and the door bolted, and no other way to get in.”
“Was it just an accident, then?” said Trudy. “Did he really just fall and break his neck?”
“Perhaps. We can, however, assume that the Baron was indeed a thief, since we found lock pick tools among his belongings and Mrs. Dell’s ring is missing.”
“And Mrs. Sanderson’s necklace!” said Chris.
“Yes,” said Innocenzio. “We arrived just as she was complaining to the Dells about it. And she said a funny thing.”
“I remember,” said Mr. Dell. “Something about a strange man peeking through keyholes.”
“There were only a few guests here that night,” said Caesar. “Mrs. Dell, can you remember?”
“Of course. It was the Baron, Mrs. Sanderson, and Mr. Gross. Chris and Celeste arrived the next day, and then you two, Mr. Ferret, and Trudy the day after that.”
“And Mrs Sanderson’s necklace went missing, not the night she thought she saw a man in the hallway, but the night after,” said Ferret, stealing a glance at Chris, who began to stand.
“You aren’t about to start accusing me again, are you?”
“Let’s keep calm, everyone,” said Sheriff Letts. Chris sat back down.
“The mystery man was crouching at Mr. Gross’ door. Let’s say it was the Baron, trying to get in, possibly to steal Mr. Gross’ Brolex watch.”
“So that’s how my door got opened!” exclaimed Gross. “I’m not getting senile at all!” He winked at Trudy.
“Mrs. Sanderson got up for whatever reason, possibly to visit the little girls’ room, and interrupted the Baron in the middle of his activity. He fled, probably back to his room.”
“Right,” said Mrs. Dell. “And Mrs. Sanderson complained about that the next morning.”
“Well, bra-freakin’-vo!” brayed Ferret, doing a slow clap. “Now tell us something we don’t know!”
“But there’s one more thing,” said Innocenzio. “When Mrs. Sanderson was complaining about the prowler, she said it had occurred at a certain time. Do you recall, Mrs. Dell?”
“Yes. She said it was three in the morning.”
“And what was your reply?” Something flashed in Mrs. Dell’s eyes and she kept silent. “You don’t remember? Fortunately, I do. You said, ‘Nobody was prowling around at three in the morning.’ How would you know that, Mrs. Dell, unless you were awake to see it?”
Mrs. Dell finally spoke. “So what if I did?”
“You got up in the middle of the night—again, for whatever reason—opened your door, and in the hallway you see the Baron kneeling in front of Mr. Gross’ room. What on earth was he doing, you might have thought? Was he trying to break in? Then, the day we arrived, Mrs. Sanderson said her necklace was missing. Perhaps that confirmed your suspicion.”
“So?” said Mr. Dell. “The Baron’s a thief, we know that. He couldn’t get Mr. Gross’ watch that night, so he tried again for Mrs. Sanderson’s necklace.”
“And my ring,” added Mrs. Dell.
“Ah, yes, the ring,” said Caesar. “If you really thought the Baron was a thief who had taken Mrs. Sanderson’s necklace, why on earth would you parade your ring in front of him, especially when you told him it was worth twenty thousand dollars?”
“Hey, yeah,” said Gross. “If I thought someone under my roof was a thief, I wouldn’t do something like that.”
Caesar continued. “Let’s go back to breakfast this morning. It is the day after Mrs. Sanderson’s necklace went missing, and everybody had seen the ring at the cocktail party. Most everyone was in the dining room, except Rue, Mr. Dell, and Celeste. And the Baron, of course.”
“And you two,” said Ferret, but everyone ignored him.
“Chris and Brighton weren’t there either, you know!” growled Mr. Dell.
“Ohhh, I see where this is goin’!” boomed Brighton. “ Yer tryin’ t’ toss me under the carriage! That’s gratitude fer ya! I’ve been workin’ here fer eight years an’ ya think I decided to steal yer ring and kill that Baron? I’ve got a good mind to quit! Then who’s going to breed yer pigs? Then who’s going to snip-snip ’em?” He sniffled, then wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Ya think the Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang is gonna let any ol’ rube get near her babies? She trusts me!” He stood up and pounded his chest with a fist. “Good luck finding someone with my experience! Who’s going to chase after them piglets when they get loose? Ya think it’s easy catchin’ a pig? I’d like to see you try. Who’s going to clean out those pens? That work piles up day after day, ya know! Who’s going to …”
“Uhh, okay, thank you, Brighton,” said Caesar. Brighton scowled, crossed his arms, and plopped back down into his chair.
Caesar continued. “The Baron hadn’t come down yet. We can guess he waited for everyone to be downstairs. He went into the Dells’ bedroom to steal the ring, then came down to breakfast.”
“Yes,” said Trudy. “But he said he forgot his pills.”
“And he went back upstairs. But someone was either already in his room, or entered shortly after he returned.”
Everyone thought, then slowly turned to face Celeste. She took a deep breath and held it.
Finally Gross said, “What, you mean that’s why this lady was upstairs before breakfast? She killed the Baron?”
Caesar shook his head. Celeste let herself breathe. “Now how do we know the Baron took the ring?”
“Well, who else?” said Hyheau. “Don’t forget I found his handkerchief in our bedroom.”
“Now why would he have taken his handkerchief with him?”
“Well, why else?” said Ferret. “He used it to wipe off his fingerprints, Sherlock.”
“Maybe, but it would’ve been clumsy of him to take the handkerchief for that purpose, then drop it at the scene of the crime.”
“Nobody said he was a smart thief,” said Hyheau.
“Lots of maybes here,” said Chris. “If you think you know who was in the Baron’s room, just say it.”
Letts nodded at Caesar, who calmly said, “Mr. Dell.”
Derrio jumped to his feet. “Now look here …” He took a step towards Caesar.
“Sit down, Mr. Dell,” said Letts. Derrio sat down and, like Brighton before him, scowled and crossed his arms.
In spite of the presence of Letts, Caesar took a step away from Derrio. “The Baron stole the ring while Hyheau was preparing breakfast, and took it back to his room. He came downstairs, and as Trudy said, forgot his pills. When he went back upstairs, he either found Derrio in his room, or Derrio entered shortly thereafter.”
“But I don’t understand,” said Trudy. “If the Baron stole the ring and Derrio was just trying to get it back, why kill him?”
“We can only speculate. Perhaps the Baron tried to take it back from Derrio, though that seems strange. I mean, the jig was up, right? All Derrio would have to do is call the police, and not engage the Baron at all.” He paused to let this sink in.
“Just a minute,” said Chris. “I don’t understand. Why would Mrs. Dell show off her ring in front of the Baron? Like she wanted him to steal it?”
“You’re right, Chris. At the cocktail party, Mrs. Dell said business had been bad lately. When the Dells suspected the Baron was a thief, they got an idea. Dangle an expensive ring in front of thim, let him steal it, steal it back, and file an insurance claim. The police probably would’ve just assumed the Baron had already fenced it.” He glanced at Letts. “Sorry. No offense intended.” Letts shrugged.
“So Mrs. Dell wears her ring and shows it off to everyone, and says it’s worth twenty thousand. Enticing bait.”
“Oh, come on!” cried Mr. Dell. “Now you’re just grasping at straws. Not that any of this is true, but how on earth would we have gotten the Baron to steal it?”
“Maybe they were partners,” said Mr. Gross.
“No; they didn’t know if the Baron would actually take it. If he didn’t, then they weren’t any worse off. As fate would have it, the Baron did take it, and to make sure he was implicated, Derrio took his handkerchief and handed it to Mrs. Dell, when he stood so close to her that morning when Rue was telling you what had happened.”
“Unfortunately for the Baron, he caught you in his room and threatened to expose you. You fought, and one way or the other, his neck got broken, though maybe it was just an accident.”
“This has gone far enough,” said Hyheau. “My husband and I refuse to say another word without our attorney.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Dell,” said Caesar. “You don’t have to say a word. You can just listen.”
“I’m sorry, boys,” said Gross. “This is pretty entertaining, and I’d love to believe you, but it’s kinda far-fetched. And don’t forget, the Baron was found dead in a locked room.”
Caesar smiled. “Let’s revisit that. Rue is upstairs and hears a noise from the Baron’s bedroom. She knocks on his door, gets no answer, so she tries to open it. She’s able to unlock it, but it’s also bolted. She comes downstairs to get help. A group of us go upstairs, passing Celeste along the way.”
“Tell me, Celeste,” said Innocenzio. She tensed. “If someone came to you and said a door was locked and you needed to get inside in a hurry, what would you do?”
“I’d break the door down. Well, I don’t think I have the strength to do that but you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, but notice I said if someone came to you and said a door was locked, would you still just break the door down?”
“Well, of course, but I’d … oh, I see!”
“I don’t get it,” said Gross.
“Ah!” exclaimed Chris. “I understand what you’re driving at! Like when someone tells you a light bulb is burned out. You still give it a try before you replace it. Almost like an unconscious reflex.”
“You’d try to open the door first, anyway, right?” Caesar turned to face Derrio. “Tell me, why didn’t you try the door first?”
Hyheau shook her head at Derrio, but he spoke anyway. “I assumed it was an emergency. We didn’t know what had happened to the Baron and we needed to get inside in a hurry.”
“Perhaps. It just seemed odd at the time that you would break down the door without trying it first. Inside the room, while Derrio was there, one way or another, the Baron fell and broke his neck. Unfortunately for Derrio, Rue heard the noise and came to investigate. Derrio locked and bolted the door. When Rue couldn’t open it, she came downstairs to get help. Meanwhile, Derrio let himself out of the room, taking the handkerchief with him, but of course was unable to bolt the door. No matter. His plan was to break the door down and hoped nobody would notice the bolt was not set.”
“How did you know Rue wasn’t lying?” demanded Derrio.
“Ohhh, I see where this is going!” screeched Rue. “You’re trying to toss me under the bus! That’s gratitude for you! I’ve been working here for six years and you think I decided to steal that ring and kill that Baron? I’ve got a good mind to quit! Who’s going to scrub out the toilets? Who’s going to change the sheets after the guests have had some bouncy-bouncy on them? You think that mess is fun? Who’s going to …”
“Okay, okay, thank you, Rue,” said Caesar. Rue was the next to join the local chapter of the Scowling Arm-Crossing, Into Chair-Plopping Club. “Anyway … well, of course, Rue could’ve been lying, but why kill someone and then draw attention to it? Besides, she didn’t know Celeste or Derrio was upstairs, she thought she was alone. If she had killed the Baron, all she had to do was go about her business afterwards and let someone else find the body. Nobody would’ve suspected her.”
“But what about the necklace and the ring?” asked Chris. “You said you searched the Baron’s room and didn’t find either.”
“Speaking of the necklace,” said Innocenzio, “here it is.” He fished it out of his pocket and held it up, a graceful length of lavender pearls of phosphosiderite with a matching cabochon.
“How pretty!” said Trudy.
“Where did you find it?” asked Gross.
“Outside, in the vegetable garden. It must’ve fallen off while Mrs. Sanderson was checking it out. I don’t think the Baron stole it. See? The clasp is broken.”
Mr. Gross chuckled at Derrio. “If you had just tried the doorknob, you might’ve gotten away with it!”
“Derrio and Hyheau Dell,” said Letts, “you’re both under arrest for murder and incitement. Thanks, boys.” He and the deputy handcuffed the Dells and led them outside.
“Wow, you solved the crime!” said Chris.
“Hang on a second. Where’s the ring, hotshot?” said Ferret.
Caesar shrugged. “As I said, I don’t have it.” Ferret beamed, almost beatific in his triumph. “But I bet I know where it is. Follow me.” He led everyone to the pigpen. “After we found the body and came back down to the dining room, Derrio said he was going to find Brighton. But that was just so he could hide the ring, knowing the police would search everyone and the premises. I don’t know where he was going to hide it, but when he saw Brighton approaching, he jumped into the pigpen and hid the diamond in there.”
“So he’s the one who tracked pig droppings onto my floor!” spat Rue.
“I told you it wasn’t me!” said Brighton.
Trudy gasped and held her nose. “Oh my gosh … that smell …”
“Uh, yeah,” continued Caesar. “I did a quick search but the Empress might have …”
“The Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang“ corrected Brighton.
“Right. Anyway, she might’ve eaten the ring for all I know. Which means …”
“Eww!” cried Innocenzio.
“Oh dear!” said Brighton. “But she does have very discriminating taste. You poor thing! Your tummy must be very sore!”
“Well, Ferret, the sheriff’s people haven’t done a thorough search yet. I’ll tell you what. We don’t feel like digging through pig poop. If you find the diamond, we concede the bet.”
“Caesar, really?” cried out Innocenzio. “We can’t let him win!”
“Do you want to dig through all that?” He pointed a retching finger towards the pen. The Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang saw his hand and sniffed at the air between them, perhaps expecting an apple, but no such treat was forthcoming, and she shrugged her shoulders as only pigs can do and went back to contemplating her pen.
Ferret stared at them, sighed, and said, “You’re on. Anything to grind you two into the ground.” He looked at Brighton. “I don’t suppose there’s a pair of galoshes I can borrow?” Brighton pointed at a corner where a pair of sad manure-covered galoshes sat looking like the only person at a party not asked to dance. Ferret picked one up as if it were going to bite his fingers off.”
“Come on, Ferret!” cracked Caesar. “If you’re afraid of a little pig poo on a boot, how are you going to dig through piles of it?” Ferret swallowed grimly, resolved himself, and thrust one boot over one shoe, then the other. He climbed into the pen.
“Be careful, Ferret!” called out Brighton as he tamped his pipe. “The ground’s a little uneven in there. Here.” He handed Ferret a rusty trowel.
Ferret stepped gingerly through the sty, as though expecting to find a land mine, but actually seemed to be making his way without trouble. Unfortunately for him, The Grand Empress Dowager Qinyang didn’t appreciate this intruder in her domain. She came up beside Ferret and thrust a ham towards his calf. Ferret twisted his leg to try to catch himself, but this just resulted in him going face first into the manure. Half the gathered audience laughed, the other half cringed–then also laughed.
“I should get me some popcorn,” mused Brighton.
Ferret struggled to his feet and tried to say something.
“Hey there, Mr. Bigshot Detective!” taunted Chris. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to talk when your mouth is full?”
“Eww!” said Innocenzio again. “I may never eat chocolate pudding again.”
“I think there’s a new ice cream flavor there,” said Gross.
“Butter Poo-Can?” said Kay.
“Nea-Poo-Litan?” ventured Rue.
Even Trudy got in on the fun. “Poo-stachio?”
“Hey, Ferret?” called out Caesar. Ferret looked up. Caesar snapped a picture on his phone and said, “Good luck!”
Caesar and Innocenzio walked away.
“I still can’t believe you’d let him win this bet so easily,” said Innocenzio. “I mean, we’re The Coffee Detectives! We’ve got a following and a reputation, and you’re just going to let him take those away?”
“Oh ye of little faith. I found the ring.”
“But you said you didn’t find it!”
“Now what kind of detective are you? I never said that. I said I didn’t have it. Sheriff Letts has it. I found it when you were talking to Celeste. I figured Derrio had tracked in the pig poop and guessed he might’ve hidden it in the pigpen and wanted to look before he had a chance to retrieve it. I found it just as Letts arrived. Besides, I’m betting a pig couldn’t eat a big diamond ring and have passed it by now. If she had eaten it, it would probably still be inside her.”
“Oh ho!” said Innocenzio. “How long do you think before Ferret gives up?”
“Well, it’s a large pen, with lots of pigs. Do the math.”
They walked a little further, when Innocenzio spoke again. “Caesar?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you wash your hands?”
“Wait a minute!” Trudy came running up to Caesar and Innocenzio, leaving Celeste waiting by the car. Despite the Dells being arrested and taken away, Brighton, Rue, and Kay offered to let the guests stay if they wanted, but everyone decided it was better to leave. “I just want to thank you both.”
“For what?”
“Oh, you know. You solved the case, and got Celeste off the hook.”
“Well,” began Caesar.
“I keep telling her she’s going to get caught one of these days.”
“What?” said Innocenzio. “You, uhh, you know what she gets up to?”
“Oh, please. I’m not that naive. Besides, she … uhh … she’s not due right now.”
“Ah,” said Caesar. “I thought you looked at her rather strangely when she was alluding to … her … uhh …”
Thankfully, Trudy interrupted him before he had to spell it out. “And you!” She raised an eyebrow at Innocenzio. “You broke that clasp on Mrs. Sanderson’s necklace, didn’t you?” He held up his hands in mock acquiescence. “Maybe this experience will scare Celeste into going straight.” She sighed. “She’s too headstrong to listen to me.”
“Well, the best of luck to you two!” beamed Innocenzio, and he waved at Celeste, who saluted. Trudy leapt forward and caught both men in a hug, then ran back to the car.
The next day at Baxcam, Caesar and Patricia were sitting at a table in the corner, shuffling a mess of papers, three binders, and an exhausted three-hole punch. Dainty strolled up with her phone. “Julius, ’ave you seen this?”
“Just a minute, Dainty,” said Caesar. He turned back to Patricia. “Can you ask Alexandra if the banner for the street fair arrived yet? It was supposed to be here yesterday.”
“What? I can’t hear you.”
“I said,” said Caesar, raising his voice, “ask Alexandra if the street fair banner has arrived.”
“Sorry, Seez, couldn’t hear you over that racket from next door.”
“Yeah, that tavern’s kinda noisy, isn’t it? Benjy said he talked to them about it. They did turn it down some, but it kinda crept its way back up …”
“If the banner’s coming NPS, Innocenzio could tell you.”
“No, the graphics company sent it by a different service.”
“Okay, I’ll check with Alexandra.” She headed for the backroom.
“Okay, Dainty, what have you got to show me?” Dainty held up her phone, which had the Twipper app running. The account for Xoffee Detectives was closed. Dainty typed on her phone and showed them another account, which read “Ferret Detective Agency”.
“Wow, he actually honored the bet!” said Caesar.
“Not quite,” said Dainty. “I didn’t think he’d actually follow through, so Junnosuke and I paid him a little visit.”
“Junnosuke?” said Caesar. “Oh Dainty, he didn’t.”
“Oh no, he didn’t actually break any kneecaps, that would be criminal, and beneath him. But you know, when a growling Japanese man in a tailored Italian business suit shows up and makes demands, most people capitulate.” She winked. “And threatening to post that picture of him munching a pig’s Richard the Third all over Twipper didn’t hurt, either.”
The End
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