Part 22 (1/2)

”Unlock,” he said. ”Get gloves.”

”And then what?”

D'Artagnan looked fearfully at James and then back at Touffet.

”I won't let him hurt you,” Sergeant Eustis said.

Lady Charlotte nodded at him. ”Go ahead, D'Artagnan. Tell the truth. You won't get in trouble.”

The gorilla glanced worriedly at James again and then said, ”James say. Give me,” pantomiming handing over a bunch of keys.

”That's a lie!” James said. ”I did no such thing!”

”Then why was this under your mattress inside one of the gloves?” Touffet said, producing a key from his pocket and handing it to Sergeant Eustis.

”But I didn't-!” James said, turning to his sister. ”He's lying!”

”How is that possible?” Lady Charlotte said coldly. ”He's only an animal.”

”A satisfying case,” Touffet said as we waited for the train.

We had been driven to the station by a hairy orange orangutan named Sven. ”He doesn't have a driver's license,” Lady Charlotte had said, bidding us goodbye. She smiled up at Phillip Davidson, who had his arm around her. ”But every policeman in the county's upstairs collecting evidence,” she said, ”so you won't have to worry about being ticketed.”

It was easy to see why the police refused to issue Sven a driver's license. He was positively wild, and after he had nearly driven us off the road, he slapped the steering wheel with his hairy hands and grinned a teeth-baring smile at me. But he had gotten us there nearly ten minutes before train time.

Touffet was still preoccupied with the case. ”It is a pity James would not confess to the murder when I confronted him. Now the police must spend Christmas Day examining evidence.”

”I'm sure Sergeant Eustis won't mind,” I told him. He had seemed pathetically eager to look for everything Touffet told him to, even writing it all down. ”You've redeemed his reputation. And, at any rate, no one confesses these days, even when they've been caught redhanded.”

”That is true,” he said, checking his pocket watch. ”And all has turned out well,” Touffet said. ”Lady Charlotte's Inst.i.tute is safe, the apes no longer have to fear being homeless, and you shall arrive at your sister's in time to burn your fingers on the raisins.” ”Aren't you going with me?”

”I have already endured one evening of Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral. My const.i.tution cannot withstand another. I will disembark in London. You will convey my regrets to your sister, yes?”

I nodded absently, thinking of what he had said about the apes no longer having to fear being homeless. It was true. Until the murder, Lady Charlotte's Inst.i.tute had been in great financial difficulty. She had said it might have to close. And if it did, the ARA and the other animal rights groups would have insisted on D'Artagnan and Heidi's being sent back to the wilds. Like Lucy. Touffet had said everyone in the room had a motive, and he was right, but there were two suspects in the room he had overlooked. James had even accused D'Artagnan of the murder, and D'Artagnan would certainly have done anything to save Lady Val-laday's Inst.i.tute-he was utterly devoted to her. Like D'Artagnan and the other Musketeers, who would have done anything to protect their queen. And he and Heidi were in danger of losing their home.

But killing Lord Alastair would not have saved the Inst.i.tute. James would have inherited the estate. James, who had threatened to shut down the Inst.i.tute, who had threatened to sell the apes to the zoo. Killing Lord Alastair would only have made the apes' situation worse.

Unless James could be made to look like the murderer. Because murderers could not inherit.

What if Heidi had put the sleeping pills into Lord Alastair's cocoa before she brought it up to the nursery,and had hidden the bottle in James's bureau? What if D'Artagnan had only pretended to lose his gloves so that Lady Charlotte would give him her keys? What if he and Heidi had gone up to the nursery while everyone was playing Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral, strangled Lord Alastair in his sleep, and then thrown the furniture about?

But that was impossible. They were animals, as James said. Animals who were capable of lying, cheating, deceiving. Capable of planning and executing. Executing.

What if D'Artagnan had really twisted James's wrist, so that he would accuse him, so that he'd say the apes were dangerous, and it would look as if he were trying to frame them?

No, it was too complicated. Even if they were capable of higher-level thinking, there was a huge difference between solving arithmetic problems and planning a murder.

Especially a murder that could fool Touffet, I thought, looking across the compartment at him. He was rummaging through his bag, looking for his mystery novel.

They could never have come up with a murder like that on their own. And Touffet's explanation of James's motive made perfect sense. But if James had committed the murder, why hadn't he washed the cocoa out of the cup? Why hadn't he hidden the key and the gloves in the pantry, as Touffet had said he intended to do? He'd had plenty of time after we went to our rooms. Why hadn't he dumped the sleeping tablets down the sink?

”Bridlings,” Touffet said, ”what have you done with my book?”

I found The Murders in the Rue Morgue for him.

”No, no,” he said. ”Not that one. I do not wish to think anymore of primates.” He handed it back to me.

I stared at it. What if they hadn't had to plan the murder? What if they had only had to copy someone else's plan? ”Monkey see, monkey do,” I murmured.

”What?” Touffet said, rummaging irritably through his bag. ”What did you say?”

”Touffet,” I said earnestly, ”do you remember The Case of the Cat's Paw?”

”Ah, yes,” he said, looking pleased. ”The little chimpanzee's favorite book. A most satisfying case.”

”The husband did it,” I said.

”And confessed when I confronted him,” he said, looking annoyed. ”You, as I recall, thought the village doctor did it.”

Yes, I had thought the village doctor did it. Because the husband had made it look as though he had been framed by the doctor, so that suspicion no longer rested on him.

And The Case of the Cat's Paw was Heidi's favorite book. What if she and D'Artagnan had simply copied the murder in the book?

But Touffet had solved The Case of the Cat's Paw. How could they have been sure he would not solve this one?

”You were particularly obtuse on that case,” Touffet said. ”That is because you see only the facade.”

”In spite of all the evidence of their intelligence,” Lady Charlotte had said, ”people persist in seeing them as animals.”

As animals. Who couldn't possibly have committed a murder.

But Heidi could read. And D'Artagnan had scored 95 on IQ tests. And they would have done anything for Lady Charlotte. Anything.

”Touffet,” I said. ”I've been thinking-”

”Ah, but that is just the problem. You do not think. You look only at the surface. Never what lies below it.”

Or behind it, I thought. To the monkey, putting the cat's paw in the fire.

Unless I told Touffet, James would be convicted of murder. ”Useless” Eustis would never discover the truth on his own, and even if he did, he wouldn't dare to contradict Touffet, who had saved his reputation.

”Touffet,” I said.

”That is why I am the great detective, and you are only the scribe,” Touffet said. ”Because you see only the facade. That is why I do not listen to you when you tell me that you think it is the gorilla or the vicar. ”Well, what is it you wished to say?”

”Nothing,” I said. ”I was only wondering what we should call this case. The Case of the Country Christmas?”He shook his head. ”I do not wish to be reminded of Christmas.”