The Case of the Invisible Incident: Part Four

So I'd more or less interviewed everyone who lived in the house, and who could have possibly been involved in the thefts, and all I'd really learnt was that Cruella had lied about not hearing about the crimes.

     Why had she lied when it was so obvious to everyone in the house what was going on, thanks to Cal's shouts and accusations?

     Maybe the self-made punk Usul had more to her then I first guessed. I'd have to investigate further just to be sure, though…

     Walking back up to her room, I paused outside the door, listening intently. Cruella, or Cru as she liked to be called, was inside, singing tunelessly like her idols about how life was unfair and how "That stinkin' Shoyru deserves everything he's gettin'." This was one very troubled kid.

     Knocking on the door just loud enough for her to hear but not enough for her to go off on a rant about sarcasm, I waited as she finished her "song," jumped up from her bed and plodded her way across the room, the floorboards creaking about halfway. A moment later, her mohawked head appear through a crack in the now opened door.

     "What do you want now?" she muttered in exasperation, "Couldn't you tell I was in the middle of something?"

     "You and I need to talk," I growled icily as I barged my way unceremoniously into the room. "Again, right now…why did you say you hadn't heard about the thefts?"

     "Huh? Oh, so maybe I did," Cru yawned dramatically, "so what? That's no reason for you to barge into my room, invading my privacy and -"

     "And ruining your fun?" I finished harshly, walking over to the curtains, the floorboards groaning again as I passed the center of the room. "What are you playing at?"

     "What? What in the world are you on about now?"

     "Why would you lie to me if you're so sure your invisible brother did it?" I asked in a tone that was dangerously close to threatening. "What are you hiding from me, Cruella?"

     "It's Cru! And I'm not hiding nothing from nobody, you freakish mutt!"

     If you keep up with my past exploits, then no doubt you would've learned by now that I do not take insults kindly, and tend to fly off the leash when such insults are thrown my way. And this little upstart was calling me a freak? ME? I wasn't the one dressed-up like I'd just fallen into the Kreludite vats in the Freaky Factory.

     So, what can I say? I just lost it there and then. Snarling I spun around, glared at Cruella briefly, causing her to freeze in fear. That was all I needed, so I stalked menacingly up to her, my face mere centimeters from hers. I could actually see her fur flatten as I breathed heavily down my nose.

     "Now you listen to me, Cruella," I started with a growl, "I don't know what your game is, but if I find out that you're the one behind all this, then I am going to come down on you like a ton of bricks. You don't like Cal? I'll make sure he abandons you. Think that's good? I'll make sure everyone knows what you did, and you'll never be adopted again, because no one will trust you…is that what you want, Cruella?"

     "N-no," the red Usul whimpered pathetically, shaking where she stood.

     "Good, then tell me…are you framing Tony for the thefts? Is it because he's getting much more attention than you?"

     "No…"

     "What was that a no to? No to the crimes, or no to him getting all the attention?"

     "No to both," Cruella answered coldly, now over her perpetual shock and fear. Taking a step back - causing the floorboards to creak once again - she stood there, now shaking with anger. "Happy, now? You got it wrong."

     "Is that so?" I asked suspiciously, my mind now on the constantly creaking floor. "Then maybe you wouldn't mind me having a look around your room…?"

     "No! No, I won't let you! You're…you're going too far, thinking you can just push me around."

     "What are you hiding from me?" I asked, my voice dipping once again into cold threats.

     The Usul seemed to pause and consider her predicament, then dropped her head shamefully as she realized that she had no choice but to let me look around, in fear that further refusal would make her more of a suspect. "Nothing," she whispered dejectedly, "just…just don't think you'll find any incriminating evidence in here. I may hate Tony for all his attention from Cal, but I wouldn't frame him because of it."

     "Hmm," I muttered, unconvinced, and as I set about looking around the room (though I had every intention to examine the floorboards beneath the rug, I had to make a show of random searching), I hoped dearly to find such "incriminating evidence," as a lack of them would surely doom my investigations. Especially if Cruella - however unlikely I imagined she might - went running to her owner with accusations of bullying and assault.

     After about five minutes of fruitlessly searching under her bead and through her bedside cabinet, I made an evident show of interest of whatever was beneath the rug, so that Cruella could notice my intentions. As I had hoped, she started at the thought.

     "No, you are not looking under there," she announced falteringly, stepping in my way and shaking her head profusely. "And don't think that anymore of your bullying tactics will make me say otherwise."

     "Why," I began slyly, "what's under there that you don't want me to see?"

     "Nothing you need worry about!" the Usul snapped adamantly.

     "But I'm a detective," I answered wisely, "it's my job to worry about things and sort them out. Now let me see what you've got hidden under there." I took a forceful step forwards with this demand.

     "No!" Cruella screeched, rather unintentionally from what I could tell from the shock on her face. "I mean, you wouldn't care what's under there anyway."

     "Oh?" I asked suspiciously, glowing brow raised. "And why is that?"

     "There's just a diary down there, a few bit and pieces…make-up, that's all…"

     "And why would you want to hide that under some loose floorboards?" I asked, my eyebrows, if it were at all possible, rising even further.

     "If Cal or any of the other pets found them, they'd go hysterical," the Usul muttered softly, so as to avoid any passers-by outside the bedroom from hearing. "If they discovered that I kept a diary and make-up, they'd have a field day - I'd never hear the end of it."

     "Well, that's all very well, but if it's just a simple diary and a few beauty accessories, then I see no reason for me not to have a look…not that I think you're lying, of course."

     "Whatever," Cruella muttered, sidestepping out of the way, a sly look of sudden realization dawning on her face. I didn't like the look, but I decided not to mention it. It had been enough of a struggle getting this far with her, I wasn't about to start a whole new battle on why she looked at me in a funny way.

     Pulling the rug aside, I soon spotted the loose board and lifted it up… to reveal nothing. Unsure of this, I delved my paw in and felt around - nothing, except for a touch of cold material and something smooth, which I put down to some kind of between-floor insulation.

     "Strange," I muttered as I replaced the board, put the rug back into place and stood up, brushing myself down as I did so. "I thought you said you had things down there?"

     "I must've left them somewhere else today," Cruella shrugged, walking over to another cabinet across from her bed, opening the third drawer down and retrieving a dusty brown book. "See? I forgot I'd put it here."

     "Hmm," I murmured, a thoughtful scowl pushing itself down onto my eyes. "Fine, sorry to be a nuisance, Cruella…you never can be too careful in my line of work."

     "Or too violent," the Usul grunted as I left the room, "your owner ought to keep you on a leash…and it's Cru!"

     Sighing, I went downstairs, where Cal met me on the front landing, hopelessness showing in his face.

     "You don't know, do you?" he asked softly, eyes staring at his feet.

     "No, but I have some ideas…"

     "Ideas aren't good enough!" he snapped suddenly, head shooting up, eyes glaring into my own. "Ideas aren't going to help me here, are they? You don't know - you said you'd find out, but you haven't! You lied to me and now…and now…and - just leave! Go on, get out of here! We were better off without your so-called help anyway! GO AWAY!"

     I just stood there, staring coldly into the ungrateful brat's eyes. I knew he didn't mean half the things he'd just said, but with him in the state that he was, there wasn't much of a chance I could do anything else other then do as I was ordered. I was used to this kind of brash, erratic behavior from back when Cali the Pterii thought I had insulted her and told her I didn't want to help find her brother on Mystery Island ("The Case of the Lying Letter").

     The best thing to do was to leave without saying a word, and hope that Cal would realize the mistake he had just made and come back for me.

     And, as I plodded morosely home in the cold, snowy evening air, I desperately hoped that he would come back for me…because I felt I was ever-so close to solving this case.

To Be Continued…