Case of the Unlucky Emperor, page 14
“A supercharged Mustang?” Chris repeated, having overheard my tip. “In Sitka? I doubt it.”
“You’re welcome, detective,” I was saying, as I listened to the police officer thank me for my time. “If we find anything out here, we’ll be sure to let you know.”
“What’d he say?” Jillian asked.
“He doubted my observations about the car,” I said, shrugging, “but I was clear enough to pique his interest. He’s going to see if anyone in town happens to own a late-model, dark Mustang. If so, he said he’ll see if he can determine its location during the last twenty-four hours.”
“I called my contact at the police department,” Marianne announced, as she descended from the second floor. “They’ve instituted a full lock-down of the town. Since there aren’t any roads that take you out of here, the piers are under orders to prevent anyone from departing, and all planes have been grounded. I’m also told you spoke with the detective? Captain Pharell said he’s Tlingit, and probably the smartest person he knows.”
“Tlingit?” I repeated. “He’s Inuit?”
Dr. Rozhkov nodded. “Yes.”
“I got the impression he thinks I’m as high as a kite,” I said, sighing. “And do you know what? I can’t say I blame him. I mean, I’m an outsider, spinning one hell of a yarn about yellow planes, a herd of moose, and an apothecary shop.”
“Dragons,” Jillian reminded me. “Don’t forget about the dragons.”
I snapped my fingers. “Right. Let’s face it. I wouldn’t believe me, either.”
Jillian held out a hand.
“Come on, Zachary. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Who willingly walks outside when it’s snowing?” I asked, bewildered.
“Not outside, you silly man. Marianne, is Dr. Tanko currently here?”
Dr. Rozhkov checked her watch. “He told me he finished his last batch of wellness checks, so I believe he headed home.”
“Let’s go downstairs,” Jillian suggested.
With each of us holding a leash, we headed down to the floor dedicated to veterinary medicine. As with most doctor offices, there was a small area just past the stairwell, which served as a sitting room for those waiting to speak with the Nigerian doctor. Jillian headed to the closest chair and sat down.
“Something’s bothering you. Can you tell me what it is?”
I took the next seat.
“I have to admit, I’m starting to have my doubts.”
“About what?” my wife wanted to know.
I pointed at the floor.
“This place. This case. Let’s face it. We’re several days in, and we’re no closer to figuring out what happened to that poor chick than the first day we were here. Don’t get me wrong. The corgis are doing their thing. It’s just that … I don’t feel like I’m doing, well, my thing. We’ve looked at a wide variety of clues, but thus far, we haven’t been able to determine who—or what—we should be focusing our attention on. By this time in the case, we typically have an idea who’s at fault, or who’s the person of interest. It’s when we call in the cavalry and let Vance show up, point his gun, and deal with the bad guys.”
Jillian was silent as she let me ramble.
“What?” I asked, as I took Jillian’s hands in my own. “Say something, would you?”
“You’re starting to lose hope, aren’t you?”
“Well, wouldn’t you?” I countered. “You’ve got to admit, the dogs have an unbroken track record at this point. It stands to reason, sooner or later, that record is going to fall. Well, I think we can consider the winning streak broken. We’re nowhere close to solving this mystery.”
“A solution will present itself,” Jillian assured me. “It always does. Someone, somewhere, will be able to figure this out.”
“And what if they don’t? I mean, that should be me. What if I don’t?”
My wife held up her hands.
“Give it some time. This case isn’t over. Sherlock and Watson will come through. They always do.”
“Do you have any theories?” I asked.
Jillian shrugged. “Only that whoever took the chick in the first place is still in town, and looking for a way to smuggle it out.”
I shrugged. “In town, out of town, who freakin’ knows?”
My wife gave my hands a squeeze and a firm shake.
“Hey, don’t you even think about doubting yourself now. You and your dogs have been doing this long enough now to know whether or not you’re on the right track. Have the answers presented themselves yet? Obviously not. Has there ever been a case where the dogs couldn’t solve it? No. You just have to be patient.”
“We’re running out of time,” I reminded her. “The guy who hands out the accreditations is due here in less than two days, and we’re still one penguin short.”
Sherlock looked up and met our eyes. He snuggled next to my leg and whined. Naturally, Watson was on her feet in record time, and approached from the opposite side. Together, the two of them leaned into my leg as they each circled around, like wagon trains in an old western movie trying to protect itself from outside attackers.
“It’s okay, guys,” I told the corgis. “I’m just having a hard time trying to figure out what you’re telling us. If you’d like to throw me a hint every so often, now would be a great time to do it.”
Sherlock let out a soft snort and pulled on his leash.
“What is it?” Jillian asked.
“I think they want to go. All righty then, let’s head back to the stairs. Should we head up or …? Wow, look at them go! Jillian? Are you coming?”
“I’m right behind you.”
We emerged onto the main floor and were immediately pulled back to the control room. Dr. Rozhkov was still there, talking with Chris and several of the animal keepers. Katia and Penny were back, having finished their searches of whatever they were assigned to investigate. Siggie, we were told, was stuck at home, caring for a sick family member. We weren’t told who.
“Where’d Shannon go?” Jillian asked.
Surprised, Marianne scanned the room. Sure enough, her assistant was nowhere to be found.
“She was just here, like two minutes ago. Shannon? Are you here?” There was no answer. “Shannon? Where did that girl go? Let me give her a call. She always … hmm. It went straight to voice mail. Something is going on. Chris, can you review the video footage and tell me when and where Shannon disappeared to?”
The computer tech nodded and started typing so fast that his fingers became a blur. I had to take my hat off to the guy. I was a writer by trade, but there was no way I could come anywhere close to matching that guy’s speed on a computer.
“Found her,” he reported, several minutes later. “You’d better get over here. You’re gonna want to see this.”
We all crowded around the large display.
“What did you find?” Dr. Rozhkov asked. “Where is she?”
“She’s no longer on site,” Chris reported. “She left the moment Zack and Jillian headed downstairs. Coincidence?”
“I feel obligated to say no,” Marianne decided. “Why did she leave? What did you two do down there?”
“We just sat and talked,” Jillian said. “That’s all, I swear.”
“What does she know that we don’t?” I asked, growing interested. “She clearly thinks we were up to something, and whatever it was, she didn’t want to stick around to find out.” I looked at my dogs and shook my head. Had they heard me complain that we didn’t have a prime suspect yet? Is this their way of giving me a hint? “Doc? How well do you know your assistant?”
“I thought I knew her better than most,” Marianne replied. After a few moments, she sighed. “But, I’m guessing I really didn’t know her at all. Do you think Shannon had something to do with the theft of our chick?”
Jillian pointed straight down.
“She thought we were doing something. It frightened her so badly she felt she had to flee. So, does anyone else wonder what might be found down there?”
I squatted next to the dogs.
“Let’s find out, shall we? Guys, it’s time to impress me. I know you can do it, but it’s time to show everyone here how good you guys really are. You need to earn that stellar reputation of yours. There’s something downstairs that Shannon believes we found. We need you guys to find it for us.”
Sherlock rose to his feet, stretched his back, and then wiggled his rear in a very encouraging manner, as if to say he was up for the challenge. Watson also stretched, but the only other thing we got out of her was a token of her appreciation: a reminder she suffers from flatulence. In layman’s terms, she farted.
I heard Chris chuckle.
“Wow, she’s worse than my father, and that’s saying something.”
“Damn, Watson,” I laughed, waving a hand through the air in an attempt to fan it away from me, “that’s a ripe one. Holy cow. You’d think she ate nothing but junk food.”
“She doesn’t, does she?” Chris asked, in a soft voice.
“Of course not,” I said. “She just, well, eats too fast. Guys? Lead the way.”
Sherlock hurried out of the room, making a beeline straight for the stairs leading down. Whatever had attracted his attention was lost on Watson. My little girl made it to the top of the steps and looked down at the imposing flight of stairs leading down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I heard her groan.
Smiling to myself, I scooped my red and white girl up in my arms and headed downstairs. I also noticed that I had an audience tagging along. Marianne, Chris, Katia, and Penny were following from a distance. Once we were back in the small sitting area, I noticed Sherlock was waiting at the locked door leading into CCCP’s infirmary.
“Do you have a key?” I asked Dr. Rozhkov, as she stepped up to the door.
Marianne fished out her key chain and held up a single, golden key.
“Please. I have the God key. This unlocks every single lock in this place. Sherlock. Watson. After you.”
The corgis strutted their way through the door, but as soon as they were inside, both came to an immediate halt. Sherlock’s nose dropped to the floor and he sniffed a few times. Watson looked back at me, as if to verify I was still there.
“Find whatever Shannon was nervous about,” I ordered.
“You’re assuming there was,” Chris said.
I felt the leashes go taut. Sherlock had decided to head left, toward a large walk-in freezer. I remember seeing that behemoth the day we had our tour, and I don’t remember anything standing out about it. Then again, we were never shown what was inside, either.
“What’s in there?” I asked. “Come to think of it, why do you guys need such a large freezer in here?”
“The equipment was purchased by recommendation of an outside agency,” Marianne answered. “For the record, I didn’t think we needed something that large in here, either. Right now, we use it to store extra cases of fish. Zack, would you do the honors?”
“As long as a Yeti isn’t going to jump out at me, sure.”
“Use those gloves,” Jillian urged, as she pointed at a pair of thick, fur-lined gloves hanging from a magnetic hook near a clipboard, hanging from a similar hook. A heavy, winter coat was also nearby. “We don’t know how cold it gets in there.”
I nodded. “Got it. For that matter, I think I’ll borrow that coat. If I’m going to be poking around, I’d rather not come out as a popsicle.”
Properly attired, I took several steps into the freezer when I came to an abrupt stop. Holy freakin’ moley, it was cold in here. My breath looked like a thick jet of smoke, which briefly reminded me of the dragon link to this case. Looking around, I saw stacks and stacks of flat cardboard boxes, which I recognized as boxes of smelt and krill from the kitchen freezers. Marianne was right. Metal shelves were installed on two of the walls, and they were mostly empty. Aside from the four pallets of fish, there really wasn’t anything in here. Turning, I made for the door. I don’t know what the dogs thought was in here, but there really wasn’t any … wait. What was that?
Wedged between two stacks of frozen slabs of krill was something brown. Was it paper? Some leftover trash?
I managed to pry the object loose and, without waiting to see what it was, made for the door. Once outside, Chris helped me push the heavy metal door closed. Jillian made it to my side first.
“Zachary? Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah.” When did my teeth start rattling? “I th-think I f-found s-something.”
I held up the wadded something-or-other and gave it to Marianne, who took the item and, taking my gloves from me, gently smoothed out the crumpled item.
It was a small brown duffel bag.
“It is bag, da?” I heard Katia ask.
“Da,” I returned, which earned me a smile from the Russian keeper.
“What’s in it?” Jillian asked.
It took a few minutes for Dr. Rozhkov to work the zipper open, but when she was finally able to see inside, she gasped with shock. She gingerly reached inside and fumbled around a bit before pulling her gloved hand out. The rest of us crowded around as she opened her hand. On her palm were several shards of a greenish-white substance.
“Egg shells,” Jillian whispered, shocked. “What are the remnants of egg shells doing in the freezer?”
Marianne looked up, at the two animal keepers.
“Didn’t you two say that the egg shells were missing from our one hatched egg?”
“Da,” Katia said. “Never found shell.”
“I just assumed someone threw them away,” Penny added.
“Which is strictly against protocol,” Marianne said, growing angry.
“Shannon is the one who stole the chick!” Chris said, amazed. “I never would have believed it.”
“So, the theft of the chick was an inside job after all,” I said. “And, I’m sorry to say, Shannon was the inside man. Er, woman.”
“I’m calling the police,” Marianne said, as she reached for her phone. “If she’s the one caring for the chick, then it must be at her place. I want them over there, now, before it’s too late.”
While Dr. Rozhkov placed the call, and explained the urgency of the situation, the rest of us huddled together.
“Who among us believes Shannon could be responsible for the theft?” I asked. Much to my surprise, every hand was raised. Well, I didn’t see that coming. “How long has she worked here, does anyone know?”
Jillian closed her eyes and tried to think.
“I know she mentioned it earlier. Whether it was right or not remains to be seen.”
“A month?” I guessed.
“Months,” Jillian corrected. “She said she’s been here for two months.”
“She did?” I asked. “When did she say that?”
“When we were checking out the IP addresses. Remember Virginia? She said she didn’t recognize any of us, and that included Shannon.”
“I know who you’re talking about,” Chris said. The young tech was frowning as he wandered off. “She couldn’t identify an IP address from a router if it had labels on it.”
I detected movement in my peripheral vision. Sherlock, who had been reclining at my feet, had spotted Chris heading toward the main computer and was watching him intently.
“Shannon is the least of our worries right now,” Chris added, his face grim. “Dr. Rozhkov, you’re going to want to see this. Something tells me I need to bring up the CBS newsfeed.”
CCCP’s computer tech expertly tapped in a flurry of commands on the keyboard. The large video screen went black, and then a normal computer desktop appeared, albeit on a much larger scale. A browser window opened, and a website was entered.
The webpage for Sitka’s one and only affiliated television network appeared. Local headlines were splayed across the front, with a healthy amount of animated ads interspersed here and there, displaying topics ranging from the impending arrival of winter to a special happening at the town’s grocery store advertising locally grown meat. Important side note: it didn’t identify the source of the meat. However, front and center on the page, in a font large enough to warrant a double-line display, was PENGUIN PROBLEMS? in upper-case letters.
“Oh, that’s just great,” Marianne groaned. “What’s it say?”
Chris skimmed the article.
“Let’s see. A report has surfaced that some type of crime has happened onsite at CCCP. Specialists were brought in to investigate, and since nothing has been confirmed, a news crew has been dispatched. It promises a live feed just as soon as the crew is on scene.”
“A news crew?” Marianne repeated, appalled. “Here? Oh, this can’t be happening!”
Chris pushed away from the keyboard and hurried off, without a word. We eyed each other, uncertain what he was doing. A few moments later, the facility’s tech guru was back, this time holding a hand-held police scanner. He set it on the counter, made a few adjustments to the controls, and leaned back in his chair with a look of alarm on his face.
“You just so happened to have a police scanner with you?” Dr. Rozhkov asked.
“I like listening to their calls,” Chris admitted.
“What calls?” I asked. “I don’t hear anything.”
Right on cue, a voice appeared, asking for the status of a records check from a few minutes ago. The next several minutes passed in silence before the display switched to the numerous video feeds. Chris selected one, and the feed rapidly expanded to fit the display. We were now looking at a live shot of the circular driveway out front. There, parked near CCCP’s front door, was the news van, complete with the extendible antenna on its top. A pile of gear was rapidly growing as the aforementioned news crew unloaded the van. Dr. Rozhkov sighed and sank down into the closest chair.
“I have no idea what to tell them. None. If word of this leaks out, then we can kiss that accreditation goodbye. This is the end of CCCP, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, everyone. I’m so very sorry. I thought we could keep this under wraps.”
Jillian raised a hand. “Marianne, perhaps we could help?”
I turned to my wife with a look of skepticism on my face.
