efe24af1849d5822a0fb0e585c983840

“Only Darryl got greedy,” Odelia explained. “He must have read about the dead body being found, and thought that Mr. Kramer just might be involved, explaining his reluctance to involve the authorities, so he decided to milk him for some more cash.”

“Kramer agreed, and told Darryl to meet him at the construction site.”

“And shoved him down that elevator shaft, getting rid of another drain on his cash flow,” Odelia finished the sordid tale.

“He’s not a very nice man, is he, this Fred Kramer,” Dooley determined.

“No, he is not,” I agreed.

“So how did you figure it all out, Max?”

“Well, you’ll remember that Kramer’s Tesla had a big dent and some scratches across the hood—we saw it that day Gran hit him with her car. And today, when that bike messenger got hit, I saw the exact same damage done to the car of the man who drove into him: a dent and then some scratchingsfrom the bike’s handlebars.”

“He could have gotten that dent and those scratches anywhere,” said Odelia. “How did you connect that to Darryl Farmer?”

“It was the brand-new bike we saw in Darryl’s ex-girlfriend’s place, Lucy Vale. It was a very expensive-looking bike. But then she said something that should have made me think: she said that Darryl was as poor as a church mouse. So if he really was as poor as all that, where did he get such a nice new bike? With the money Fred Kramer gave him.”

“You did a great job, Max,” said Odelia, well pleased. “You saved an innocent man from going to prison.”

“And from losing his kids,” I added.

“Yeah, Karl’s ex-wife has no excuse to yank his visitation rights now.”

“Except for the business with the cats,” I said. “Which lucky for him nobody knows about.”

“You know what I don’t understand, Max?” said Dooley.

“No, what?”

“Why would Karl allow his ex-boss into his home? Mr. Kramer fired him, and he also stole his wife.”

“Karl had to allow Fred into his home, Dooley, and his ex-wife, too, if he wanted to see his kids. And also, I think Karl is one of those people who tries to let bygones be bygones.”

“Also,” said Odelia, “Karl didn’t know that those embezzlement charges were bogus. All he knew was that Fred fired him. Karl believed that someone embezzled that money. He knew it wasn’t him, but he also accepted that Fred couldn’t be sure about that.”

“He should have blamed him for stealing his wife,” I said.

“Karl didn’t see it that way. He thought Grace had left him, not that Fred had framed him so he could steal Grace away from him.”

“Karl is really one of those people who are too good for this world,” I said with a shake of the head.

“Yeah, he sure is,” Odelia said. “And if we hadn’t intervened, Fred wouldn’t have just framed him for embezzlement, stolen the man’s wife, but also set him up for murder!”

“Talk about a lousy boss,” said Dooley with a sigh.

Epilogue

It was that time of the week again, when the Poole clan all comes together and enjoys a family moment: when they sit down for dinner and the paterfamilias prepares food for the entire clan. In the olden days that paterfamilias probably first killed a bison or two and caught a shoal of fish to serve his famished relatives, but in these modern times Tex had simply gone down to the supermarket to get his offerings wholesale. It was necessary for him to buy his meats wholesale as he wasn’t exactly the best chef in the world, and things often tended to go wrong at the food prep stage of the proceedings.

Tex was slowly improving, though, and every week his barbecue moment was a little less disastrous than the week before. At this rate I figured it wouldn’t take more than another couple of years before he managed to serve us all an edible and enjoyable meal.

The meal itself was being served in Odelia and Chase’s backyard for a change, as the backyard of the chef himself was the scene of an extensive home renovation project—or you might call it what it was: erecting an entirely new home practically from scratch.

“So you did it again, Max,” said Harriet as the four of us were all lying next to one another on the porch swing. “You caught yourself another killer.”

“I guess I got lucky again,” I said modestly.

“Or smart,” said Dooley.

“So the Kitchen King is actually a killer king, huh?” said Brutus. “I should have known. He looked like a crook to me.”

“No, he didn’t,” said Harriet. “In fact when you first saw him you said he looked like a great guy—the kind of guy you could imagine yourself being adopted by.”

We all stared at Brutus.“You’re looking for another home, Brutus?” I asked.

“Well, no—or yeah, maybe. Look, this family is lovely and all, but it’s always something, you know. Like with this house falling apart. I mean, it’s all very stressful, you guys. And yesterday I spotted my first gray hair. Can you imagine? Me! A gray hair!”

“It’s only the one gray hair, Brutus,” said Harriet.

“Where is it?” asked Dooley solicitously.

“Here, on my ear,” said Brutus, bending his head to show us.

“Yeah, that’s a gray hair all right,” I confirmed.

“It’s very small,” Dooley said as he studied the hair.