Case of the Unlucky Emperor, page 4
I pointed at the two snoozing corgis.
“Well, Doc, you came to the right place. Those two sleeping beauties may not look like it, but they are absolute experts in locating that which doesn’t want to be found. We’re on the case.”
Dr. Rozhkov’s eyes filled.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Jillian reached into her purse and offered Marianne a tissue.
“Again, thank you. So, if you don’t mind me asking, how does this work? I asked Jonathan Hawk that question, and the only thing he could tell me is that he has absolute faith in your two dogs.”
“Well, what we’ll do, starting tomorrow, is investigate the area. It means that I’ll let Sherlock and Watson take the lead and see if anything catches their attention. When something inevitably does, then I’ll take a picture and note what we’re looking at, and then sit down to review the pictures later.”
“Where it’ll make sense?” Marianne asked.
“Hopefully. Usually, the dogs point us in the right direction,” Jillian explained. “So, that means we’ll probably look around the complex, and might even go back to town and see if there’s anything there.”
“It’s an inside job,” Marianne insisted. “I just know it. The chick must be here somewhere.”
“And if it isn’t, then it’d be good to expand the search from the start,” I said.
“You impressed Jonathan,” Dr. Rozhkov recalled. “And I know from experience he doesn’t impress easily. Do what you need to do. I’ll give you access to every square inch of this facility. If there’s something here, then I want to …”
“Woof.”
As one, Jillian, Dr. Rozhkov and I looked down at the dogs. The last time I personally checked on them, which was about five minutes ago, both appeared to be sleeping. Now? They were awake and standing up.
“When did you guys wake up?” I asked, surprised. “Whatever. What’s up, guys? Do you smell something?”
Jillian handed me the leashes and watched as I was led by them to the opposite wall, which had a row of open bookcases. Sherlock was sniffing along the ground. Watson watched for a few moments before her nose lowered and she, too, was checking the floor.
“Are they giving us an example of how they work?” Marianne asked, smiling. “That was thoughtful of them.”
I frowned and shook my head. “Oh, they’re smart, that’s for sure, but I don’t think this is … heads up. We’re headed out of the room.”
“What now?” I heard Marianne ask my wife.
“We follow,” Jillian answered.
Sherlock and Watson, with their noses glued to the floor, led us to the stairs and back to the ground floor. They then retraced their steps, taking us back to the front door, only they veered to the left. Sherlock promptly sat in front of the door.
“What’s in there?” I quietly asked.
“It’s just a closet,” Marianne answered. She stepped forward to open the door and showed us. “There’s nothing in here but our coats.”
Sherlock was back on his feet. He stepped forward and nudged Jillian’s scarf, which had been wrapped around her coat. He then turned to look at us.
“He wants us to go outside,” I translated. “Really, pal? It’s snowing out there. It’s cold. We really don’t want to …”
“Awwwoooowoooowoooo.”
It was probably one of Sherlock’s lowest howls yet. Actually, it sounded more argumentative than conversational.
Sighing, I pulled my coat free and put it on. Looking over at my wife, I gave her a questioning look. Jillian nodded and took her coat from my outstretched hand.
“I’ll go get mine,” Dr. Rozhkov said. “This is something I want to see.”
Once we were all prepared, with the dogs wearing their coats, too, we were guided through the house to a door I had noticed earlier. Turned out it was the door you’d take if you wanted to exit the facility and head toward the penguin yards from the main floor. A second building was directly before us. Smaller than the main house, this one was not quite as ornately decorated as the first, but it still matched the other. We hurried up to the secondary building’s main entrance and waited for the good doctor to unlock the door.
A thick, protective flap was lifted and I watched Dr. Rozhkov punch in a code, then insert a key into the door. We were quickly ushered inside, since the snowfall had picked up and had already accumulated an extra two inches in the last hour. We kicked the snow off our shoes and turned to Marianne, anxious to see if she’d be willing to give us an explanation of where we were, and what we were looking at.
Instead, both dogs gave themselves a thorough shaking and pulled us past the meticulously spotless metal tables, acres of countertops, sinks, and shelves of non-perishable food items. I could see huge bottles of vitamins, vials of liquids, and trays of various implements.
We finally stopped at a wall that had only one door on it. It was large, made of solid steel, and had a big number two on it. Was this a door to the second penguin yard?
Marianne unlocked the door and we stepped outside, into the exhibit.
“Don’t worry. The penguins are all indoors right now and none of them congregate this far away from their kennels. Even so, we should limit how long we’re out here.”
For the record, I’ll say it didn’t take long. The two corgis made it about twenty steps inside before they stopped at a six-foot-tall cast iron lamp post.
“It’s just a lamp,” Marianne was saying. “It kicks on automatically, after sunset. Is this all they wanted to look at? We should … Mr. Anderson, why did they just sit?”
I studied the corgis. Both were sitting by the base of the lamp post. Sherlock, however, was giving me a look that said he hoped I figured it out soon, ’cause he wasn’t enjoying himself in this cold weather. Thankfully, it didn’t take me long.
The lamp post was modeled after the old fashioned street lamps from the turn of the century. This one was perfectly symmetrical, in that the top split into two gently-curved arcs, each tipped with a glass-covered light. However, the longer I stared at the post, the more I realized it wasn’t quite symmetrical after all. At the junction where the two light arms split apart, there was a small, cylindrical object that looked like a black stogie. It had been placed on the back of the post, as if to better hide it from prying eyes.
I reached up and, with a little effort, pulled the object loose. I turned to look at Marianne and I held it up.
“Tell me, Doc. Is this one of your cameras?”
She shook her head.
THREE
Our cabin was quiet the following morning. The log fire that had been lit the previous evening had been stoked for the night, but had long since gone out. Thankfully, the small cabin’s powerful gas furnace kept the interior temperature from getting too cold.
Inside the two bedroom, one bathroom structure, no one was moving around. Yet. The king bed had several fluffy quilts covering the occupants, but that wasn’t the reason husband and wife were uncomfortable. Two lumps on the bed, stretched horizontally rather than vertically, lay unmoving, in the direct center, and refused to be moved.
“Freaking bed hogs. Come on, share, would you?” I heard a giggle come from Jillian’s direction. “Laugh it up, Chuckles. I can see you’re teetering on the edge, just like I am.”
“Turn up the thermostat, would you? I’m not getting out of bed until it’s at least ten degrees warmer.”
“Ten, huh? Sure you’re not overexaggerating?”
“You need to get the heat going before I put a single toe outside of this bed,” Jillian told me. “I assume you’d like my help today? Well, if you want it, you’d better plan on making it warmer in here. Just look at that floor. I swear I see ice on it.”
“I’ll get your skates, my dear.”
“Ha ha. Will you start a fire?”
I looked over at the wood-burning fireplace.
“Probably not. If we were going to be staying here for a while, then yes, I would. However, Shannon will be here to pick us up in … what time is it, anyway? Feels like three in the morning.”
“It’s 6:30, Zachary.”
Both corgis, practically invisible amidst the folds of the thick comforters, lazily stretched, rolled, and promptly went back to sleep. Little boogers. How I’d love to do the same.
Once I had the furnace going, and the interior of the cabin was a very toasty seventy degrees, we officially started our day. Jillian headed for the shower, and I took the dogs outside.
“Would you guys hurry up?” I demanded, as we made our way down the yet-to-be-shoveled sidewalk. “Just find a spot and go. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s freezing out here, and I don’t have a nice, thick coat like you two.”
Sherlock stopped at a snow-covered bush and moments later, I saw wisps of steam rising up. Well, that was one way to know whether or not the dogs were done. Watson did her business, and as we headed back to the cabin, I looked up to study the dull gray sky. I couldn’t see any individual clouds, but rather a thick gray mass above our heads. I lived in Idaho long enough to recognize more snow clouds when I see them. I mentally crossed my fingers that the heavy snowfall hadn’t decided to start early this year. After all, if neither boat nor plane could manage a safe arrival or departure, we wouldn’t be going anywhere until spring of next year.
“Rrrrrrr.”
I was so shocked I stopped in my tracks. Sherlock, too. Since when did Watson—and only Watson—growl at something? I immediately stooped and put an arm around her.
“What’s the matter? What are you growling at?”
Sherlock nudged my other arm. There I was, wearing sweats, a t-shirt, and sweatshirt, squatting in the snow with an arm around each of my dogs. I might as well have been wearing a shirt with tourist labeled on the back.
“Ooooo,” Watson howled.
That was about the time the rest of me woke up and took note of my surroundings. There, placed in front of the trees on the left of our little cabin, was a dragon. Don’t get me wrong, it was obviously not a real one, but some type of metallic, made-from-junk sculpture. Like our surroundings, it also was covered by several inches of snow. How I missed walking by that thing several times last night was beyond me.
“Woof.”
Looks like Sherlock finally noticed the sculpture, too. Both he and Watson had plunked their butts on the snow-covered sidewalk and were staring straight at the dragon. I had to give the leash a small tug to get their attention.
“It’s just a sculpture. Let’s go, okay? It’s not real.”
Neither dog moved.
Sighing, I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture. Both dogs immediately rose and trotted in front of me, as though they were personally responsible for saving the town of Sitka from a huge fire-breathing reptile.
Back inside the cabin, we breakfasted, rehashed the events of yesterday, and prepared our things for our trip back to CCCP.
“We can now add dragons to the list, next to the moose we saw earlier,” I reported, as we gathered our belongings.
Jillian looked up. “Did I hear that right? Dragons?”
“There’s a metal dragon sculpture just over there, sitting among the trees. Watson saw it first and started growling. Cutest damn growl I’ve ever heard.”
“Huh. All right. One dragon. Got it. Let me ask you something. Do you think they’ll have figured out who placed that camera outside one of their exhibits?”
I polished off my orange juice and noticed Jillian had slid the remainder of hers over to me. I drained the glass and then nodded.
“I would think so. Movies and television shows make it sound so simple. Apparently, there’s some clever way to get the device to tell you where the information it collects is sent. Once you have an IP address, then the rest is history.”
“Think it’ll be that easy?”
“Knowing our luck, the answer is no.”
There was a knock on the door. I cringed, expecting to hear both dogs go ballistic. After all, anyone who knocks—or rings the doorbell—back home is clearly a secret assassin and must be outed immediately. But, did they do that this time? No.
“I’ll never figure you two out,” I said, as I pulled the door open. “Hi, Shannon. We’re ready here. Let me get the bags and we’ll get going.”
Shannon smiled brightly and nodded.
“Sounds good, Mr. Anderson.”
“Please. It’s Zack.”
“Okay, Zack. I’ll be waiting in the van.”
We had just turned left, onto Halibut Point Road, when both Sherlock and Watson scrambled to their feet. Figures. They had just settled down from their encounter with the dragon after we drove by it.
“What now?” I asked, as I turned to look in the back seat. Both dogs were glued to the window behind Jillian, staring out. “They’re looking right,” I reported. “What’s …? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. Well, I’m impressed.”
“What is it?” Jillian wanted to know.
“It’s a Moose Crossing sign. You know, a yellow sign with a silhouette of a moose on it?”
“Another moose reference,” Jillian said. “Take a pic.”
“You can’t see it now,” I said. “but, I can still see the backside. I’ll take a pic of that.”
The corgis immediately calmed and settled back to their seat.
“What does a moose have to do with our missing penguin chick?” Shannon asked. She activated the van’s signal and turned right, onto Kramer Ave. “I’m so fascinated by your dogs, Mr. Anderson. Er, Zack. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Tell you what, if you ever figure out how Sherlock and Watson do it, be sure to let us know. I’m still trying to figure it all out.”
“Is this the same way you brought us in last time?” Jillian suddenly asked. “This doesn’t look familiar.”
“You’re very observant,” Shannon said, as she briefly locked eyes with my wife in the rearview mirror. “We used a more direct route last time. This time around, I thought I’d show you more of the town itself. These houses, for example, most of them have redundant energy systems in place. See the solar panels? And how every house has multiple chimneys?”
“In case the weather causes them to lose power, is that it?” Jillian guessed.
“Exactly. You cannot survive out here if the power goes out. And if it does, it can sometimes stay that way for close to a week.”
“Does that happen often?” I asked, amazed. “I would think that’d be dangerous.”
“You’d be surprised just how much we look out for one another. If someone’s house goes dark, then there will usually be three or four neighbors checking on them before the day’s end.”
“I like that,” Jillian said. “We have that same mentality in Pomme Valley.”
Shannon met our eyes in the mirror.
“Pomme Valley? Love the name of the town. And is that in Washington?”
“Oregon,” I corrected. “It’s a small town that’s fairly close to a medium-sized one, which works out just fine for us.”
We felt the van slow and saw that we had a sharp turn coming up.
“We’re now approaching Harbor Mountain Road,” Shannon reported.
“I remember that from yesterday,” Jillian said. “CCCP is at the end of the road, isn’t it? At the top?”
“Yes. You’ve got a good memory.”
“Hey,” I protested, holding up a hand, “I remember it was at the end of the road, too.”
Jillian patted my hand.
“That’s such a good boy.”
Shannon snorted, as she smiled at me.
“I like you two. You’re great together.”
I took my wife’s hand in my own.
“Yeah, she’s a keeper.”
Once we were back inside the main facility and our coats, scarves, mittens, earmuffs, and doggie coats were all hanging in the entry closet, we saw Dr. Marianne Rozhkov descend the stairs. She smiled at the two of us before holding out twin laminated cards.
“Take these. Clip them to your shirts. They’ll get you access to everywhere in the complex. Should you decide entry into the penguin exhibits is needed, I just ask that you let us know first. That way, we can make sure we keep our birds out of the way.”
I clipped the badge to my shirt and looked down at the dogs.
“Sherlock, Watson—are you two ready to go?”
I got head-tilts from both dogs.
“I take it that’s a yes,” Dr. Rozhkov said. “Please, if you find anything, or have any questions, don’t hesitate to call me.”
“And how do we do that?” Jillian asked.
Marianne pointed at a phone on a nearby table.
“From anywhere in the facility, press the asterisk twice. The phone at my desk will ring. If I’m not there to answer, then the system will automatically route it to my cell.”
“Impressive,” Jillian said.
“Evil,” Dr. Rozhkov countered. “It’s what happens when your IT guy happens to be quite good at telephony systems.”
I snapped my fingers.
“Speaking of which, has he been able to get anything from that camera we found yesterday?”
Dr. Rozhkov blinked a few times. “That’s right. I should have heard from him by now. I’ll go find out myself, and then I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good. Well, guys, you’ve been waiting for this.” I leaned forward to unclip their leashes. “Have at it. Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on around here, okay?”
I had no sooner dropped their leashes when Sherlock lifted his nose, sniffed once, and then turned to look at the door we had just come through.
“We’re not leaving yet, pal. We’ve got work to do. So, now’s the time to impress us. Do your magic. Where do you want to go?”
Apparently, the answer to that question was the main door. Sherlock and Watson trotted over to the door, sniffed along the base, and then sat.
“You can’t possibly have to go potty,” I told them. “It’s the door leading outside. We just came through. What about it?”
