I told Sven to wrap the dead parrot up and store it in the freezer until we solved
this crime. There could be evidence we overlooked on the bird. I went back to the dining car to mull over the facts. In all my forty years of investigating crimes, this is the first case where the victim was a parrot.
As I sat debating what to do, Charlie walked in, so we continued our interview.
He was funny and entertaining but not all that helpful. It was clear he was more annoyed with Sarah Mae than the parrot. He thought Sarah was a hack writer who earned more than she deserved. His jealousy of her was obvious. As we were finishing the interview, Sven came rushing to our table.
“There’s been another development.”
“What?”
“A robbery.”
“I’ve got my hands full with the bird case. Remember, I’m on vacation.” Resting
my hands on the table, I looked up at the conductor. “Who was robbed?”
“The armored car. We were carrying some high value property, but it might also
be connected to your parrot predicament.”
“What? Why do you say that?”
“Well we found Billy Bob tethered to a suitcase in the armored car. He was
screeching like a banshee.”
“Holy Hell! This case is one for the books.”
“Richard, can you come with me.” Sven rested his hand on my chair. “We’ll work
with you on compensation.”
I stood up to leave, then turned to Charlie. “Can you order me a sandwich? And get
one for yourself. Sven’s buying.”
“Sure. What kind?”
“Meat . . . A meat sandwich.”
“I think most sandwiches have meat. Do you have a meat preference?”
“Fresh . . . Freshly dead meat.”
“I like your style.” Charlie let out a belly laugh.
When I walked into the armored car, Billy Bob screeched and squawked. The
conductor steered me past him to show me the empty crates where the paintings were stored. Paintings worth a fortune would be much easier to hide than an angry parrot.
Sven emphasized the importance of finding them before the next stop. “Once
passengers start exiting the train, the stolen paintings will be gone forever.”
“How long before our next stop?”
“Not long.” Sven looked at his watch. “A little over a day.”
“We need to work fast.” I lifted my foot onto a pallet. “Is there anyone who saw
anything at all that might give us a leg up on the robbery?”
“No, no one that I know of, but we do have . . . .” The conductor pointed
at the parrot.
Just then Billy Bob screeched. “What the fluck?”
“What did he say?”
“He’s cussing, but his words are jumbled.”
“Someone taught him to cuss?”
I shook my head. “Probably not. He likely just picked it up from conversation.
Parrots are smart.”
Billy Bob squawked. “Sheet! Holy sheet!”
“He’s not making any sense.” The conductor turned to me. “He’s our only
witness.”
“Yes, that’s a problem. We need the vet. He might be traumatized from the
kidnapping.”
Sven nodded, “I’ll go get Tracey.”
“So the number one witness is a mouthy parrot with a sailor’s vocabulary, who
may have PTSD. This just keeps getting better.”
Within a few minutes Tracey showed up to examine the parrot. It didn’t take long
for her to conclude that Billy Bob was traumatized. Hearing him mispronounce and slur his words was all the information she needed.
“African Grey’s are highly intelligent and require mental stimulation. When this
is disrupted with a traumatic event, their brain waves become confused. Speech is the first thing affected.”
“He’s seen things that could be helpful in our investigation. Will he recover?”
Tracey frowned. “It depends on how badly he’s been traumatized. Only time will
tell.”
“Time is not on our side, so an accurate statement from the parrot’s will be
important.”
It had become obvious to me that the kidnapping of Billy Bob was only a
distraction. The robbery was the main event. This was a well-planned theft and we were all taken in by the rouse. This is really just one crime. If we can find out who kidnapped Billy Bob, we’ll have a strong lead on who stole the painting.
An announcement came over the intercom. “Tonight, for one night only Sarah
Mae Thomas, a published author, will be reading a passage from her new book, Death on the Rails. The book is scheduled for publication in December, so anyone attending will be getting an advance peek into her intriguing new mystery. The show starts at 7:00 p.m. in the lounge car. Please arrive early to secure your seat as we expect there to be a large turnout. The comedy act of Jeffery and Billy Bob will be rescheduled to a later date.”
“Well that didn’t take long,” I mumbled.
Interesting, what a lucky coincidence that Sarah Mae is on the train and willing
to do a reading on such short notice. . . or is it?
Jeff was brought into the armored car to get his parrot. He would need to take
Billy Bob back to his cabin and work with him to see if the bird could recover his speech.
He stuck his arm out and called Billy Bob over. “BB, come I have a treat for
you.”
The parrot flew to the opposite corner and squawked, “Buzz off, dipsheet.”
Tracey called for the parrot, holding up a treat just as Jeff had done. Maybe it was
her calm soothing voice, but Billy Bob flew to her and landed on her shoulder.
Tracey turned to Jeff. “I’d be happy to go with you and help.”
“Thank you. I could use your help.”
They walked out as Billy Bob screeched.”Fluckin Hell.”
* * *
Penny returned from her trek through the cars with some interesting
information. She heard a lot of theories about the dead parrot, but pure speculation. One piece of information Penny found out about Sarah's book was that it contained a bird character. Coincidence? Unlikely. Did she have something to do with the birdnapping? I wouldn't put it past her as a way to promote her book, but the robbery of the paintings? No, I didn't see her doing that. It was beyond her capability. It had to be someone with a more desperate background, willing to risk it all. Sarah had too much to lose. She was doing quite well with her moderately popular novels, so it didn't make sense that she'd be involved. Nevertheless, I had to keep her on the list of suspects.
While interviewing Chelsea, I learned she was a socialite from New Orleans
running in the same circles as Sarah Mae. Her husband was an investment banker with a seven-figure income. Still, Chelsea seemed to spend it as fast as it came in and had never turned down an invitation for a shopping spree to Rodeo drive. Would she risk her lavish lifestyle? Robbery could be for more than money; sometimes the thrill was as enticing. With all her travels, the rumor mill exposed many stories about her affairs. Her name would also remain on the list as well.
Tracey walked over to the table just as Chelsea’s interview ended. “Billy Bob
is squawking about his kidnapping, but I can't make sense of it." She pulled my arm. "You might want to come listen to what he's saying." She then motioned for him to join her.
“Well, this will be a first.” I followed Tracey to Jeff’s cabin.
We heard Billy Bob squawking before we opened the door. As a seasoned
detective, I conducted many interviews, but none with a bird. The only logical way to proceed was as I did with any other case.
Looking directly at Billy Bob, I asked, “Can you tell me what happened the night
you were taken?”
Billy Bob ruffled his feathers, spread his wings, then took flight, crashing into the
window. “Fluck Picasso.”
I rubbed my chin. “Well! I don’t understand his paintings either, but I wouldn’t
use those words.”
“See, nothing Billy Bob says makes any sense.” Jeff scratched the back of his
head.
"Well, he's a parrot, a smart parrot, but he has his limitations. Wait!" I held my
finger up in the air. “I have an idea. . . We’ll do a lineup.”
Tracey whipped her head around. “You mean a lineup of all the suspects?”
“Yes, exactly. I’m not sure if it will work, but it might reveal something
valuable.”
Jeff stood with his hands on his hips. “Where would we conduct the lineup?”
“I believe the armored car. It’s where the theft took place. The location could
trigger a memory for Billy Bob.”
"Memory recall can be retrieved through association,” Tracey responded. "I think
this could work."
“I still need to talk with Sarah Mae and Sven, but we need to get this
process started.”
My interviews with Valerie, Charlie and Chelsea hadn’t led to any conclusions.
But they all had something in their backgrounds that left me suspicious. After my interviews were complete, the picture might become clear. Right now, I knew Valerie needed money, Charlie was jealous of Sarah Mae’s money and Chelsea couldn’t get enough money. Not surprising that it all could be about money.
“Who will be in the lineup?” Jeff asked.
I pulled out my notebook. “Sarah Mae, Sven, Chelsea, Charlie, and Valerie.
Maybe one more person, a plant, someone we’re confident is innocent to verify our findings.”
Tracey snapped her fingers. “Hey! How about your granddaughter, Penny?”
“That’s a good idea. She’ll be perfect. I’ll ask her.”
As expected, Penny was happy to help. More than that, she was thrilled. For her
it would be an exciting adventure, a rare opportunity that likely would never happen again. I wanted additional background on Sarah Mae and Sven, so I interviewed both before the lineup.
I discovered through my interview with Sarah Mae that she had been divorced
from her husband, Ben, for seven years. He worked as a carpenter for the Humane Society. Clarice, their only child, attended school in France, but spent summers with her Dad. Sarah's career kept her busy and didn't give her much time for her daughter. She hadn’t seen her in four years.
Sven was single and very much a player when it came to the ladies. He moved to
the US about five years ago from Austria. He was a ski instructor in the winter and a butcher in the off-season.
* * *
Jeff and Tracey coordinated the lineup. I couldn’t have Sven involved since he
was one of the suspects.
Tracey brought the parrot into the armored car. She had a calming effect on him.
Billy Bob’s cage was draped with a cloth, which would be removed once all the suspects entered the room.
Each suspect was given a numbered card to hold. I’m not sure why we needed to
do that, after all the bird couldn’t read, but it was procedure. We left the cover on
BB’s cage for the first round. It was important to see how the parrot reacted when he heard a familiar voice.
The suspects were be asked to step forward and say their name, then the following
phrase. “Get that bird!”
I expected to see some reaction from Billy Bob, indicating distress, but he only
squawked about the heat. ”Holy sheet, it’s fluckin hot.”
There was nothing to conclude from this test, other than it was hot, but we all
knew that.
For the final lineup Tracey removed the cover, then opened the door and Billy Bob
jumped to her shoulder. He perched there untethered, craning his neck to look at all the people in the room. We instructed the suspects to yell the phrase we gave them.
Starting with Charlie each suspect stepped forward, gave their name then yelled
loudly. “Get that bird!”
Billy Bob squawked but showed no signs of distress hearing or seeing any of the
suspects.
Jeff threw up his hands, “This is stupid. This whole thing is a big waste of time.”
Turning toward Tracey, he reached for Billy Bob. “Give me the damn parrot!”
With that, BB spread his wings and drove his talons into the back of his
outstretched hand.
Jeff screamed and grabbed his hand. Theew was a deep gash, so I picked up the
Cloth used to cover the cage and gave it to him. Then the door slammed. Did someone leave or enter? I looked around to see who might be missing.
Sven and Penny had left the armored car, but why? He could have left to
get a medical kit. We’ll have to wait to see if he returns promptly. But, why did Penny leave? She’s my granddaughter, but even she would need a good explanation for her actions. I needed to review the facts of this case and try to narrow down the suspects.
Sarah’s ex worked at the Humane Society, and the note left in Billy Bob’s cage
was sensitive toward animal mistreatment. Could I have been wrong about Ben and Sarah Mae? Are they partners in this crime?
Sven was the first to return to the car and was holding an oversized first-aid kit.
He handed it to Tracey. She opened it, and pulled out some gauze bandages.
The door opened again. Penny returned followed by a man carrying a black
leather bag. As it turned out, the other day when I sent her on the trek through the train to find out what the passengers were saying about the parrot mystery, she met a doctor. He was happy to help and took over from Tracey to clean and dress the wound.
The lineup was over with less than positive results. I needed to review the video
of the suspects that was taken. It was important to see the expressions on their faces during the lineup. Facial expressions sometimes tell a whole different story than spoken words.
I told them all to return to their cabins until I called them back to the lounge. My
time in the cabin was spent reviewing the video and the facts gathered about the suspects. In addition to the video, I had received an email requested from an outside source on each of the suspects. Within the hour, I devised a plan to unearth the crook, but needed to get the suspects together one last time. Per my instructions Sven to gathered everyone in the lounge car after dinner so that I could lay out my theory about the crime. My confidence was high that I knew the culprit, but there would be one final test to validate my theory at the evening meeting.
Penny and I were the last to arrive. I had invited not only the five suspects,
but everyone involved, including Billy Bob. I would address each with the facts, but no accusations initially. Then, I’d sum up my investigation by eliminating the suspects one at a time until the criminal revealed himself or herself.
Valerie was easy to eliminate. Her pay was low, but she was honest and made
extra money selling baked goods at local markets. She was growing her business.
Charlie lived well, spent his money freely, but he was a great salesman and
made high commissions. Making money was easy for him.
Chelsea also lived the high life, and her husband ignored her indiscretions, so
there was no reason to jeopardize the good life she had.
Sarah Mae had a big ego and felt her value as an author was unmatched. She lived
a life she designed for herself while Ben raised their daughter. The note left in BB’s cage tried to point the blame at Ben, an animal activist, but it was a weak attempt. Ben was an upstanding guy.
Sven wasn’t motivated by hard work. He was a pleasure seeker always looking
for the easy way. The elaborate plan to steal priceless paintings took a devious and determined mind. It’s hard work to be a successful criminal. Sven was a follower not a leader.
Penny wasn’t a suspect in the lineup. Everyone but Billy Bob knew that.
Nevertheless, it was important that I address the rumors circulating among the passengers. Opinions are cheap and people believed they could be a detective despite their abilities or expertise. I blamed it on the Internet and too many unsolved murder mysteries. Penny was a precocious thirteen-year-old, smart as a whip, but like many young people she believed she could change the world to make it a better place. I don’t know if that’s possible, but I wished her the best. The one thing I knew she had a strong belief in justice.
We arrived at the station, just as I finished. Two police officers walked in and
stood by the door.
Everyone in the lounge car had a puzzled look on their faces because I cleared the
final suspect without revealing who committed the crime. Then I turned to Jeff. “How’s the hand, buddy?”
Jeff raised his bandaged hand and said. “It hurts, but I’ll be fine.” He shook his
head. “What’s your point? Who stole the paintings?”
“You should have known I’d figure it out.” I ran my hand through my hair. “You
were the victim, not the suspect. A perfect scenario until BB pointed you out. You were the architect of the theft, but couldn’t do it alone, so you got help from someone who needed money, someone you could trust.”
“This is nonsense. You’ve made all this up.”
“Is it?” I smiled. “Let me ask your partner . . . your lover.”
All eyes turned to Tracey. “No, no it’s not true.” Tracey was visibly shaken.
I scanned the room. “No, it’s not Tracey. She’s the wrong flavor.” Then I turned
toward Sven. “Do you have something to say?”
“No . . . no, I can explain.” Sven turned to walk away, but the officers blocked his
path.
Billy Bob squawked. “Guilty! Hang ‘em high.”
I signaled the officers. “Take them into custody.”
