The Hen of the Baskervilles(11)
“A cardiac arrhythmia.” Dad’s voice was faint but audible in the background. “It sometimes presents with chest pain.”
“Cardiac arrhythmia,” Mrs. Bonneville repeated. “Your father says we need to run a bunch of tests, and he may need to be on medication, but he should be fine.”
“That’s great,” I said.
“Have you found our chickens yet?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But our chief of police has come out to take personal charge of the case. We’ll keep you posted.”
“I see.” She didn’t sound happy. And she didn’t say good-bye—she just hung up.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Randall said. “What’s the prognosis on the investigation, Chief?”
“Since I only just heard about this myself a few minutes ago, I don’t rightly know yet,” the chief replied. “Vern’s going to drop by and update me when he can break away.”
“Meg just told the chicken lady that you were going to take charge of the case yourself,” Randall said.
“Once Vern brings me up to speed, I will.”
“Maybe we should call him and hurry him along.” Did Randall have doubts about his cousin’s detective abilities?
“I’m in no rush.” The chief sat down in the folding chair vacated by the reporter and sighed. “Vern’s working on it, and he’s a good man, and as long as I’m out here I don’t have to pick over those blessed pecans.”
“I understand Vern put out an APB on the chickens,” Randall said.
“First time for that.” From the chief’s expression, I suspected it might be the last time if he had anything to say about it. “Can’t say I expect it to be too useful. Putting out an APB on a couple of chickens in a county that must have a few thousand?”
“These were special chickens,” Randall said. “Heirloom chickens. Bantam Russian Whatsits.”
“Orloffs,” I put in.
“That’s it,” Randall said. “Not a lot of them in the county—they’re a rare breed. Should be easy enough to spot if they’re running around loose.”
“‘Rare,’” the chief echoed. “So do you think they were stolen because they were valuable?” He had taken out his notebook. Vern looked happier at seeing this concrete evidence that the chief was taking charge.
“They’re not that valuable in a monetary sense,” Randall said. “Vern asked one of the other chicken people. He seemed to think you could buy a pair for fifty or a hundred dollars. Maybe more if they were champion birds, but these weren’t.”
“Then why steal them?” the chief asked. “Why those chickens in particular?”
“I think it wasn’t how valuable they were but where they were,” I said. “The stolen chickens, the stolen quilt, and the smashed pumpkin were all three at the back of their respective tents or barns. All three of which have rear exits, even if they’re not open to the public.”
“Have to, to keep the fire marshal happy,” Randall said. “So they weren’t specifically after the three things they stole or smashed—just looking to cause trouble?”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe they were after one of them, and the easy time they had getting to it inspired them to muddy the waters by going after the other two.”
The chief sighed.
“I’m afraid that doesn’t make our job any easier,” he said. “Not knowing which of the items was the real target.”
“Or whether the fair itself was the real target.”
We contemplated this for a while.
“Maybe when you figure out the time line of the incidents you’ll get a clue,” Randall said.
“Doubt it,” the chief said.
“And finding the time line’s going to be tough,” I added. “Because it all happened overnight.”
“I thought we had volunteers sleeping in every building that couldn’t be locked up tight,” Randall said.
“We do,” I replied. “And that’s just what they were doing. Sleeping.”
“Well, that’s a clue. Whoever did this must be pretty light on his feet.”
The chief glared at him and Randall shrugged apologetically.
“Chief,” I said. “Randall told that reporter that we were going to organize some extra patrols staffed by volunteers from among the exhibitors. Unless you have an objection to the idea, I should go and get that started.”
The chief has shifted his glare from Randall to the fair map. He continued staring at it for a few moments, then his face softened.