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“It was supposed to be just this week. Premiere of the new movie. But now it looks like I’ll stick around for the funerals.” He fixed Chase with a manly frown. “My three best friends. All dead. And you’re sitting there grilling me about some old Mustang Dunc used to drive. Get out there, man, and catch that killer.” He was pointing to the door, and the message was clear. “And stop wasting time!” he suddenly thundered—in true Zeus style.

So we got up and made to leave. Odelia opened her lips to ask about those autographs, but Sergio Sorbet had sunk down on the couch again, and had assumed the position of Rodin’s The Thinker, complete with bulging bicep. He was glowering, and for all intents and purposes looked like a man who was about to launch a bolt of lightning at us.

So Odelia closed her mouth again. Looked like Scarlett, Charlene and Marge would have to do without any love from their favorite action hero for now.

We walked out of the house and looked up at the sky. Clouds were gathering overhead, and it looked as if a storm was brewing. The wind had picked up, and was making some stray leaves spin around on the courtyard where our car was parked. In the distance thunder rumbled, and I thought I could see a flash of lightning slice the sky.

Clearly the god of thunder and lightning was not a happy camper.

Chapter 25

In spite of the impending storm, we decided to head out that night. Cat choir is not for the faint of heart, after all, and not even a storm can stop us from gathering at the park to get together and sing our hearts out.

Also, I was hoping to get Shanille’s point of view on this recent spate of murders. She is, after all, a very spiritual being, being Father Reilly’s cat and all, and might have an original viewpoint on the whole sordid affair.

On the walk over to the park, Harriet told us some more about what had happened at the mall that day. After the police had released the crime scene, the mall had quickly reopened for business, and even Omar Wissinski had reopened his shop.

“He was very sad, though,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, he looked white as a sheet,” said Brutus.

“I don’t think he’s fully recovered from that knock on the head. In fact he probably should have stayed home in bed—or the hospital to have his head looked at.”

“Scarlett thinks he has a concussion, which is why he’s been acting so strange.”

“Strange, how?” I asked.

“Well, today his mother came in again, and they argued about Argyle.”

“His brother?”

Brutus nodded.“His younger brother. Looks like he and Omar don’t get along.”

“Omar has a really hard time,” said Harriet. “Three of his best friends are dead now, and he almost died, too.”

“He’s scared they’ll come back to finish the job,” Brutus clarified. “So he’s hired a security guard.”

“A security guard?” I asked.

“Yeah. He arrived this morning, and stayed posted at the door all day. Just like you see in jewelry stores.”

“But Omar is afraid he’ll scare away the customers, so he hopes Chase will arrest Dominic Careen soon.”

“So he thinks Dominic is behind these murders, too, does he?”

“Yeah, either Dominic or the gambling mafia. Though what are the odds that three of Omar’s friends had gambling debts?”

“It’s possible, of course,” I said. “It’s not because they’re rich that they’re not also gamblers. A lot of people these days gamble online, which has lowered the threshold and has removed the social stigma associated with gambling. If you visit a casino, someone might see you, or snap your picture. But if you gamble online, from the safety of your own home, there’s nobody to name and shame you, and it has made the gambling industry go through a real boom.”

“I don’t know,” said Harriet. “I still think it’s Dominic Careen and his son who are behind all of this. It takes a lot of strength to make a car crash down on a person, or to turn a person into a papier-m?ch? statue, or even to turn him into a display figure, like in Joel Timperley’scase. Has Chase figured out how they killed Mr. Timperley yet?”

“Yeah, they found blood in his office and in the elevator. And the big model of the Keystone Mall was crushed and also had blood on it. So it looks like Joel was killed there, and then taken down to the atrium to be strung up as part of the new Zeus movie display.”

“It’s all so, so terrible,” said Harriet. “And I, for one, hope they’ll catch the killer before he kills Sergio Sorbet. That man is so…” She was going to say more, but caught Brutus’s eye and wisely swallowed her next words.

We’d arrived at the park, and made our way to the playground, which is our domain by night. Most cats had decided to show up, with only a few scared off by the impending storm. I made a beeline for Shanille, eager to consult with her.

“Hey, Max,” she said, looking busy. She probably had been thinking up new songs for her choir to interpret. “How is the investigative business going? Catch any killers lately?”

“Not really,” I said. “We’re three murders in, and not a clue as to the killer or killers.”