The Bass Wore Scales (29 page)

“
Even if you found it, all we could prove is that we had a pipe that was used to hit Kilroy in the head. Until we did some DNA or fingerprint analysis on it, it wouldn’t give us any new information.”

“
So the warrant stands?”

“
It looks like it. I’ll call and have Gwen give Dr. Pelicane the bad news. I guess I’ve also got to be there tomorrow morning when the rangers show up.”

“
Want me to go?”

“
Yeah,” I said. “You and Dave meet me out there just in case those PETA folks get out of hand. Then go and find that pipe if it’s there.”

“
I’ve been thinking,” said Nancy. “That office was really a mess when we got there. Is it possible that the killer was still there? Maybe he was as scared as we were and was hiding under the busted up piano or a rug or something.”

“
You think so?” I asked.

“
Nah,” said Nancy. “It was just a thought.”

Chapter 18

All of a sudden a chill went down my spine like two-dozen mice running from my hat into my shorts; mice that had their claws dipped in something really, really cold, like liquid nitrogen or maybe frozen yogurt.

“
Where are Fishy Jim’s scales?” I asked, poking at one of the fry-boys with my heater. “You cleaned him. Where are they?”

“
Who wants to know?”

“
Sorry, no questions,” I said. Then I shot him.

“
I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” shouted the other one. “The Minimalist was up here. He paid us. Then he took the lot.”

“
The Minimalist? He took all of them?”

“
Yeah,” said the fry-boy, shaking like a Frenchman in a white-flag factory. “All of them.”

“
All three forms of the minor?” Fry-boy nodded.

“
He got ‘em all,” Fry-boy wailed. “He said nobody would be needing them anymore. Please let me go.”

I waved him to the door with my gun hand. “Get lost,” I said, “and don’t let me catch you snuffling around here again.”

It all made sense. This had nothing to do with Fish on Friday. That was just a smoke screen. The Minimalist was back--my archenemy--and now he had scales. I didn’t think he knew how to use them yet. His gang only used four notes, over and over, until you wanted to take a shotgun and blow your own brains out. Oh, they had devotees, to be sure, and I’d hear of a John Tavener anthem sneaking into the liturgy now and again. But if The Minimalist figured out how to use all the scales, it’d be a disaster. He’d turn minimalism into a few trite praise choruses, stick ‘em on a big screen in front of the church, buy a tambourine, hire a worship-team, and I’d be out of business. He had to be stopped.

I moved to the door, but then I realized three things. There wasn’t any big rush, I was hungry, and Fishy Jim was looking pretty good.

“
This is kind of funny,” said Meg, putting down my missive and taking a sip of her iced tea. “Although, this supper reminds me of Fishy Jim. I don’t know if I can eat him.” She looked at the broiled fish on the plate in front of her.

“
But the couscous is almost done,” I argued. “Look. You said four meals, so this is your last chance at supper, and, as they say in the culinary arts, ‘it is medium-well with my sole.’”

“
Oh. That’s okay, then.”

* * *

Dr. P.A. Pelicane and Kent Murphee met me outside the Police Station at 7:30 the next morning.

“
Gwen Jackson made me move the motor home,” said Dr. Pelicane. “She said it was in the way and causing too much of a distraction. She also had a copy of the warrant that was faxed over to her by the Fish and Wildlife Commission. It said that I shouldn’t be allowed to visit Kokomo without an officer of the court present. That’s you, right? You’re an officer of the court?”

“
That’s me. Let’s drive on out there.”

Dr. Pelicane and Kent slid into my truck, and we headed out toward the animal shelter. We were silent most of the way, but finally, I had to ask a couple of questions. I looked at Kent to see if he’d told her about our suspicions. He recognized the look and gave a slight shake his head. I agreed with him. It would just make it harder on Dr. Pelicane if she knew what we thought might have happened.

“
Penelope, did Kokomo sign anything to you in the last few days? Since the killing took place?”

“
He hasn’t said anything,” said Dr. Pelicane sadly. “This happened once before. When his first kitten died, he wouldn’t talk for a month. He just sat in the corner of his enclosure.”

“
So he might not be able to tell us anything for weeks,” I said, “and even then, it’d be guesswork on our part as to what he meant. I mean, nothing he tells us is going to stand up in any courtroom.”

“
That’s true,” said Kent.

“
I guess it won’t matter soon,” said Dr. Pelicane, resignation apparent in every word. “Kokomo killed him, of course, but it was that stupid preacher’s own damn fault.”

* * *

We pulled up to Gwen Jackson’s Veterinary Clinic, and the protesters were out in force. It wasn’t quite eight o’clock by my watch, and I didn’t see Gwen’s SUV in the parking lot, but the clinic didn’t open until eight, and I figured there wasn’t any reason to be early this morning and plenty of reasons not to. The PETA people were gathered on one side of the parking lot. On the other side were the two rangers, Mona Kilroy and Bennett Shipley. Nancy was in the middle, glaring at the protesters, daring one of them to make an illegal move. Dave was beside her, looking slightly more nervous than I thought a corporal should. Nancy had obviously told the rangers, Mrs. Kilroy and Mr. Shipley to wait on the other side of the lot until Gwen Jackson arrived. Ranger One was cradling a rifle. They were standing there, calmly eyeing the scene as I walked over to them.

“
Sorry we gotta do this,” Ranger One said. “I hate this kind of stuff.”

I nodded and took the warrant that he offered me. I glanced over it quickly. It was a copy of the same one that I had in my pocket—faxed to the Police Department yesterday afternoon. I looked at my watch again. It was eight o’clock, and, as if on cue, Gwen drove her Explorer into the parking lot and around the side of the building toward the back. The protesters, realizing the time had come, started yelling and moving toward the front glass doors.

“
Gwen’s going around. She won’t open the front doors until you’re finished,” I said. “Let’s go to the back gate. Nancy and Dave can handle this out here.” I said it and hoped that it was true.

“
Fine!” spat Mona. “Let’s get this over with.”

We walked in silent procession except for the occasional sob from Dr. Pelicane. Kent has his arm around her, and she was leaning heavily on him. Gwen was at the back gate, unlocking the padlock, when we walked up. She nodded at me, sadly, and led the way back to the pens.

“
Please don’t do this,” said Dr. Pelicane to Mona in a desperate voice. “You can stop it.”

“
Shut your mouth!” hissed Mona. “It’ll be my pleasure to watch that beast take its last breath.”

Dr. Pelicane sobbed again and sagged against Kent, but we kept walking. There was one more lock, another padlock, that Gwen opened from her ring of keys. She then stepped back away from the gate, and the two rangers walked forward.

“
Y’all stand back. We can’t have you within twenty yards,” said Ranger Two. “And put your fingers in your ears. This rifle’s plenty loud.”

The two men walked past the first enclosure to the second cage that was Kokomo’s last habitat. The rest of us gritted our teeth, not willing to put our fingers into our ears until the rifle came up. They stood in front of the cage for a moment and then called back to us.

“
Hey! What’s the deal?”

“
What’s up?” I called back.

“
That gorilla,” Ranger One said, slinging his rifle back onto his shoulder. “He’s gone.”

* * *

We all rushed to the cage.

“
What did you do with him?” Mona Kilroy was livid and screaming at Dr. Pelicane. “You took him! I know you did!”

I looked at Penelope. She seemed to be as surprised as the rest of us.

Gwen had the lock in her hand and gave it a yank. It dropped open. “No, she didn’t,” Gwen said. “She couldn’t have. All the gates were locked when I came in. I have the only keys.”

“
Might you have forgotten to lock the cage back after you fed him yesterday evening?” I asked.

“
I don’t think so, but if I did, I doubt that Kokomo would have bothered to put the lock back on once he’d escaped.”

“
I doubt it, too,” I said. “So someone came in…” I looked around. “…Over the fence?”

“
That barbed wire on the top of the fence is pretty hairy,” Gwen said, pointing at the coils of wire atop the chain-link fence that surrounded the back of the clinic. “It would take a very determined person to pick his way over that fence.”

“
How about getting out?” Ranger Two said.

“
Same thing,” said Kent.

“
Then there’s the matter of getting the lock opened,” Ranger One said.

“
Well, the gorilla’s gone,” I said. “Why don’t you send my two deputies back here on your way out.”

“
Will do,” said Ranger Two. They both shook my hand and headed back to the gate.

“
We are not having this!” said a furious Bennett Shipley. “We have a warrant to destroy that animal. I’m putting a bounty on that gorilla. I’ll pay five thousand!”

“
Five thousand?” said Kent. “Dollars?”

“
To whoever kills that animal. And I’m going to do my best to see that I don’t have to pay anyone by shooting it myself.” Bennett Shipley and Mona stomped off just as Nancy and Dave walked up.

We heard a cheer come up from the protesters, and I figured that the rangers had just given them the news of Kokomo’s escape. Nancy and I went to the cage to give it a once-over. Dave and Gwen started walking the fence, checking for something out of the ordinary.

“
Look at this,” said Nancy, holding up the lock for me to examine. “Around the shackle. Look at the scratches.”

“
Somebody picked it?”

“
Looks like it to me. I’m going to take it with us and see how long it’d take me.”

“
You know how to pick a lock?” I asked.

“
It’s pretty easy if you have the right tools.” She turned the lock over in her hands. “With a hairpin, I’ll bet that it’ll take me maybe two minutes.”

“
Two minutes?”

“
Well, I’m out of practice. It’s an old Masterlock—single latch with four pins that are so sloppy that it makes a great lock for learning how to pick. If you have a set of shims, you could open this in ten seconds. With a pick, a minute, tops. Hairpin, two minutes.”

“
Do
you
have a set of padlock shims?”

“
Of course. I’m a policewoman.”