Fiends. Part 34

*We shall see.'

I'm not an idiot. If I didn't fork over some of my sandwich to Snuggles or Snook.u.ms or whatever its name was, the old gal would find herself a different gumshoe. (I needed the work. Things had been slow lately, ever since I got on TV for plugging one of my clients. What can I say? Mistakes happen.) *You don't watch much television, huh?' I asked.

*Please,' she said. *The sandwich.'

*Oh, sure.' I set it down on my desk. She reached for it. *Ah ah!' I snapped. *Not the whole thing.'

*No, of course not. Excuse me.'

She waited, hovering over my desk and watching while I scooted back, slid up my trouser leg, and pulled the s.h.i.+v out of my boot. I pressed its b.u.t.ton. The blade flew and snapped into place.

*Dear me,' Mabel said. She was impressed. Her mouth looked like a doughnut.

*My toadsticker,' I told her.

*I do hope you've washed it.'

I've seen what dogs eat. Washed or not, pooch wouldn't care. I pinned the sandwich to my desk top and tried to keep its insides from slopping out as I cut. It made a real mess. *There you go,' I said.

Mabel s.n.a.t.c.hed up the biteless half. *You're a dear,' she told me. She smiled at the dog. *Isn't he a dear, m.u.f.fin?'

m.u.f.fin licked its chops.

But Mabel was the one who ate the sandwich.

She wolfed it down, then eyed the remains of my half. I stuffed the last of it into my mouth before she could make a grab for it.

*That certainly was tasty,' she said. *I haven't eaten properly in ages.'

I had already noticed she was skinny, but I hadn't given it much thought. After all, it's chic to look like a cadaver.

*Have a seat,' I told her.

She sat down. m.u.f.fin licked some mayo off her chin.

*Someone,' she said, *wants to poison me.'

*I see.'

*It's frightful. I hardly dare touch a bite. I'm withering away to nothing. You must help me.'

*I charge three hundred beans a day,' I said.

*Three hundred what?'

*Dollars.' It was double my usual rate, but I figured she could handle it. She wore diamond earrings, a pearl necklace, and eight rings. I knew that none of the jewelry was fake because of her blue hair and poodle.

*That sounds a trifle steep,' she said.

*You get what you pay for,' I explained. *I'm the best.'

She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling as if she doubted my word.

*You don't want to pinch pennies,' I said, *when your life's on the line.'

*I suppose you're right.'

*Of course I'm right.'

She set m.u.f.fin on the floor. It skittered under the desk and started chewing on one of my boots. I used my other boot to fend it off while Mabel took a checkbook out of her purse. Usually, I insist on cash. A lot of my clients (back when I had clients) were deadbeats. But I figured I could trust Mabel.

She made out the check to Duke Scanlon, Private Investigator. Then she filled in the amount. I licked my lips and stopped kicking m.u.f.fin. She signed the check and slid it across the desk. It got mayo on it. *Will that be enough,' she asked, *to retain your services for a week?'

*Consider me retained. For starters, what makes you think someone wants to poison you?'

*I don't think someone wants to poison me, I know.'

*Has there been an attempt on your life?' I asked.

She rolled her eyes again. She was good at it. *My dear young man - may I call you Duke?'

*Duke it is, Mabel.'

*Duke, now see here, had I been poisoned already I would hardly need your services. I would be pus.h.i.+ng up daisies like my dear husband, Oscar.'

*What happened to Oscar?' I asked.

*Why, he died, of course. That's what happens when one is poisoned.'

*Ah-ha,' I said.

*Ah-ha, indeed. It was dreadful. He barely had a chance to swallow. One moment he was complaining that the hollandaise had curdled, and the next moment he was in it.'

*Eggs Benedict?' I asked.

*Precisely.'

*When did this happen?'

*April fifteenth,' Mabel said. *That's over a month ago, and I haven't eaten properly since then. Whoever murdered Oscar, you see, intends to do the same to me.'

m.u.f.fin tried to climb my leg. Smiling at Mabel, who couldn't see what was going on, I bent over and patted the little cutie on the head and gave its ear a twist. It bit my wrist, then scampered away and hopped onto Mabel's lap looking pleased with itself.

*What did the police find?' I asked.

*The police? Ha! I told them and told them that Oscar had been poisoned, but would they listen? No. As far as they were concerned, poor Oscar simply dropped dead from a b.u.m heart.'

*Did Oscar have a b.u.m heart?'

*He most certainly did by the time they saw it.'

*Was an autopsy performed?'

*Of course,' she said.

*No traces of poison were found?'

*No, but I've discussed the matter with my physician and he a.s.sures me that there are several varieties of poison which might go undetected.'

*He's right,' I told her.

*Of course. He's a doctor.'

*Do you have any idea who might havea'

*You wouldn't have another one of those delicious sandwiches, would you?' she interrupted.

*Not on me,' I said.

*Then let's discuss the rest of the details over lunch. I'm famished.'

I was all for it. Not only was I starving, but this called for a celebration. I was two thousand one hundred dollars richer than I'd been ten minutes ago, and the case would be a cinch. All I had to do was go through the motions.

Because Mabel Wingate was in no danger of being poisoned. Her late husband, Oscar, had been dropped by a faulty ticker, not Eggs Benedict. It was good enough for the cops; it was good enough for me.

Shrinks probably have a name for Mabel's condition - the way her mind turned things around to help her cope with the sudden shock of her Oscar's death. I have a name for it, too - bananas. Mabel was bananas and rich.

I stood to make out like a bandit.

*Not a peep about this to the chauffeur,' she warned as we left the building.

*Yamamotos's,' Mabel told him.

He started driving. *I'm not big on j.a.panese food,' I said.

*None the less, I am.'

So Yamamoto's it was. Mabel left m.u.f.fin in the limousine with Herbert the chauffeur, and we went in. *I just adore sus.h.i.+,' she said as we sat at a corner table.

*Sus.h.i.+? She the waitress?'

*You have a lot to learn, Duke.'

She ordered the same meal for both of us. When the waitress left, she started right in on the case. *One of my relatives,' she said, *is obviously the villain. With Oscar out of the way, you see, the entire family fortune fell into my hands. Once I'm out of the way, they'll inherit oodles.'

*Who, exactly, will get the oodles?' I asked.

*According to the terms of our will, the wealth would be divided equally among our three children. We also provided handsome amounts for each of our servants.'

*So you figure one of the kids poisoned Oscar?'

*Or one of their spouses,' Mabel said. *Or one of the servants. Or a combination.'

*In other words, you suspect everyone.'

She nodded.

*So they all have a motive. But who had the opportunity? Who was present at the time of Oscar's death?'

*They all were. Wingate Manor is a rather large estate. All of our children live there with their spouses. The servants were also in the house that morning: Herbert the chauffeur, George the butler, Wanda the maid, Kirk the stable boy and, of course, Elsie the cook.' I counted on my fingers. *That makes eleven suspects,' I said. *Any grandchildren?'

*Not one.'

*Well, it makes a big bunch. Maybe we can narrow it down a little.'

Before we could start narrowing it down, the food arrived. I stared at it. I wished I was back at Lou's Deli. *What is this stuff?' I asked.

*Sus.h.i.+, my dear.'

*It looks like dead fish.'

Mabel t.i.ttered.

I put my nose close to the plate, and sniffed. The last time I'd smelled something like it, I was a kid in a rowboat trying to grab bait out of a minnow bucket. It was a hot day, and most of the minnows were belly up. *I'm not going to eat this,' I said.

*Oh, but you must. Until you catch the killer, you'll need to act as my food taster.'

*What are you getting at?' I asked.

*Eat,' Mabel said.

For three hundred dollars a day, I'll eat anything. So I forked a critter, held my breath so I couldn't smell it, and put it into my mouth. It tasted the way I was afraid it might taste.

Mabel watched me chew. She hadn't touched her food yet. I swallowed, and tried to wash the taste out of my mouth with water.

Mabel kept watching.

I got the picture. She was waiting to see if I'd keel over.

*Oscar didn't die in a restaurant,' I said.

*No,' said Mabel. *But one can't be too careful.'

*n.o.body's going to sneak into the kitchen of a restaurant to poison you,' I said.

*One never knows.' She pointed her fork at something on my plate that looked like an octopus tentacle.

I ate one, and gagged.