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But then, just as we were leaving, I noticed a second glass display case. This, too, was dedicated to Maria Power, and contained a plastic mannequin dressed in a very nice green silk dress with sequined bodice. At the foot of the mannequin a picture had been placed showing the real Maria Power wearing that self-same dress.

I studied the picture for a moment, and saw she was a very handsome woman indeed.

She had those high cheekbones some men go all gaga over, shiny auburn tresses, a wide mouth and remarkable green eyes. She was smiling in the picture, and judging from the background had every reason to: I could see palm trees, a nice beach, and those clear azure waters you find in your better-quality beach resorts.

And as I took another sniff I finally decided the distinct scent had to come from the dress. And it was with a little sigh that I left the office. Humans sometimes smell very nice indeed.

“So who do you think did it, Max?” asked Dooley as we were once again walking along the sidewalk.

“I have no idea, Dooley,” I said. “Which is why I suggest we tap all of our usual sources and do it quickly, too.”

“Why quickly?”

“Because I have a feeling Odelia’s boss is in big trouble.” I’d picked up a few snatches of the conversation between Uncle Alec, Chase and Dan, and it seemed to me that the police officers had already decided who the killer was and were now only waiting for the results of the forensic investigation to strike.

We’d arrived at Wilbur Vickery’s General Store, and I saw that our friend Kingman was already in pole position to spy on the fine female felines that prance up and down Main Street on any given day.

“Hey, Kingman,” I said by way of greeting, but he was momentarily distracted by a strikingly handsome Persian sashaying past the store and giving Kingman the eye.

“A woman has been murdered,” Dooley said, clearly taking my advice about moving quickly to heart. “And Max thinks that Uncle Alec thinks that Dan did it.”

“Mh?” said Kingman, finally becoming aware of our presence. “Oh, hiya, fellas. What was that about a murder?”

“A woman has been found murdered in Dan’s office,” I explained. “And we were wondering if you heard something.”

He frowned, dragging his mind out of the gutter.“Um…”

“It happened just now,” I said. “So chances are slim you would have heard anything, but just in case you have…” I raised a questioning eyebrow, signaling to my friend how important this case was.

Indeed if Dan was charged with murder it would effectively mean the end of the Gazette, and Odelia’s job. It was perhaps a little selfish of me to think along these terms but there you have it. No job for Odelia also meant no more money coming in, and no money meant no food for me, unless Odelia’s parents jumped in to give her some much-needed financial support—and Chase, of course. Though I doubted whether a policeman’s salary would allow for the kind of lifestyle to which we’d become accustomed.

“What’s going on?” asked Buster, who was passing by.

“A woman was murdered in Dan Goory’s office,” Kingman explained. “And Max is wondering if I’d heard something, which I’m afraid to say I haven’t.”

Buster frowned. He’s a Main Coon belonging to Fido Siniawski, the barber, and as such a valuable source of information for Dooley and me—and by extension Odelia.

“When was this?” asked Buster.

“Just now,” I said. “Maybe half an hour ago or so?”

“I did see a UPS guy head into the Gazette,” said Buster. “And just before that I saw Dan hurry out, looking rattled. He had a big frown on his face and was talking to himself.”

“So Dan walked out as the UPS guy walked in?” I asked, making sure I got the sequence of events just right. “So did they meet?”

“Nah. Dan walked out and then the UPS guy walked in. I have to admit I didn’t see him walk out again. Missy came in with Garvin and I got distracted. I did see your Odelia walk in, though, and then later the shit hit the fan: ambulance, police—the works.”

“So who was the woman that died?” asked Kingman.

“A Heather Gallop,” I said. “One of Dan’s visitors. She called him yesterday and told him she wanted to meet. She also sent him a text with the word ‘Gnomeo.’”

“Probably some kind of code,” said Buster with a grin.

“Code for what?” I asked.

Kingman and Buster shared a look. Clearly their minds were now both in the gutter.

“Naughty Dan,” said Kingman, proving that my assessment was right on the money. “First hanky-panky and then murder. And all this during office hours, huh? What a guy.”

“I’m sure it’s not like that,” I said, but I had a feeling my words fell on deaf ears. Soon the story would do the rounds that Dan had accidentally murdered his lady friend in some kind of sordid sex game gone terribly wrong. And it had involved a gnome.

“I wonder what he did with the gnome,” said Buster, sniggering delightedly.

“Or maybe it was her that handled the gnome,” said Kingman, snickering uncontrollably.

“Sticking it where it didn’t belong,” said Buster.

“Until he’d had enough and knocked her over the head with it.”