A Purrfect Alibi

“Good thinking. But not tonight. It’s almost dark and the attic is no place to be without the light of day to illuminate things.” Nero didn’t think Josie would like all those creepy shadows and dark corners. “I think our time is better spent searching the guests’ rooms before they come back from dinner. First thing tomorrow, we will get Josie to the attic.”

My favorite time of day was suppertime, mostly because I didn’t have to serve it. The guests usually went out to eat and the giant mansion was quiet. Today was no exception and I was doubly glad because it gave me a chance to investigate the guests’ prior connections to Madame Zenda.

For once, the cats weren’t getting in the way. Usually they lay on my keyboard or stuck their tails in my face when I tried to use the computer, but tonight they were nowhere to be found. I wasn’t sure what they were up to, but I could hear soft noises on the floors above as I sat in the back parlor, feet up on the coffee table and my laptop on my lap.

Up in the attic, perhaps? I remembered how they’d seemed to want me to follow them up there earlier in the day, and I had a vague notion that I should check the place out, but it was getting dark and I didn’t know what the lighting situation was up there, so now wasn’t a great time. Besides, something told me that I had to wait for the cats. If they had something to show me then they needed to lead the way.

Information on the guests was surprisingly easy to obtain, simply by googling. I guess when you are in a profession that depends on clients you have all your info out there. It wasn’t much different for the Oyster Cove Guesthouse; I needed an Internet presence so people could find me. Apparently psychics needed that too.

As I’d already known, Madame Zenda and Esther had worked together a few times. Not that that should make me suspicious because Esther wasn’t trying to hide the fact. She’d mentioned it right off. Except it hadn’t been right off. It had only been after the murder. Initially the two of them had acted as if they barely knew each other and had exhibited the same undercurrent of animosity that I’d felt between all of the guests. Had Esther realized that the police would find the connection and made sure to mention it right away so as not to appear as if she was hiding something?

From what I could find on the Internet, they’d been crossing paths for over twenty years. Appearing on telethons together, local television shows and even a circus stint. I didn’t find any bad press about either one of them.

Victor, on the other hand, had a more checkered past. I found the article from the Dayton Ohio Examiner about the scam that had been referred to earlier. Apparently, he’d been a personal psychic to a rich widow, Mary Chambers. He’d told her he was communicating with her dead husband. The widow’s family had claimed he was a fraud and made a lot of commotion in the papers. There was talk of a lawsuit since Mary had paid him thousands. Mary passed away of natural causes and a lawsuit was never filed and nothing had ever happened to him, except a bunch of bad press.

According to the article, Victor had met the widow on a Dreams Divinity seven-day cruise. I’d never heard of them but apparently there were cruises that featured psychics. They gave group readings and passengers could hire them for private readings as well. Sounded like a perfect place to find a mark that would willingly spend money thinking you were letting them talk to their dead loved one.

A quick glance at some press for that particular cruise told me that Madame Zenda, Esther Hill and Victor Merino were listed among the featured mediums. Not Gail though. Interesting. Was it possible that Madame Zenda knew something about Victor’s scam with the woman and Victor didn’t want her to tell anyone? But why spill the beans now, when it was all in the past? A picture of some of the mediums and passengers on the cruise showed Victor smiling like the cat that ate the canary, his mustache even larger than it was now. Was he smiling because his plan to scam rich widows was well under way?

I googled Gail Weathers but couldn’t find a thing. Odd… then again, Victor had alluded to her being an unknown. Maybe she was just starting out? She certainly did drink a lot of tea, so maybe she needed the practice.

Thud.

I jumped as a Murano glass paperweight rolled across the green-and-gold oriental rug. Must have toppled off of the side table. Instinctively I looked for the cats, but they weren’t here. A cold chill crept up my spine, then I laughed. All this ghost talk was getting to me. Clearly the paperweight had just rolled off. Flora must have put it on its rounded side instead of on the flat bottom when she’d dusted.