The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33 by Nic Saint (chrome ebook reader txt) 📗

“Because that would have been a dead giveaway,” said Odelia. “They’d have known the victim wasn’t Franklin Harrison but was in fact Marvin Harrison. This was also the reason he made sure his brother’s lower torso and arms were seriously burned—he wanted to make sure that no fingerprints could be lifted from the dead person.”

“He’d already left by the time Joshua arrived, sneaking out the backdoor and through the vacant lot next to the house. He was seen leaving by Vanda Dibble, but that couldn’t be helped. And then to make sure that the fire department would get there on time, he called 911 himself and masked his voice with a voice changing app. He then drove straight across town to Joshua’s house and planted the jerrycans in his garage. He knew the way, since he’d been there before to steal a glass from Joshua’s kitchen, hoping it would contain the man’s fingerprints. He then placed his own fingerprints, added some Rohypnol mixed with a little water, and made sure to plant the glass at the scene.”

“But,” said Gran, “how could he be sure that his brother would die from smoke inhalation? Wasn’t that leaving things to chance?”

“It was,” said Odelia. “Which is why he killed Marvin somewhere else.”

“He actually killed his brother in that old shed we saw on the family domain, Dooley,” I said. “Remember how that was partially burned out? He arranged to meet his brother, drugged him, then set the shed on fire and waited until Marvin was dead from smoke inhalation. Then he removed him from the shed and transported him to Parker Street, where he arranged the scene to make it look as if Marvin had been killed in the fire.”

“It’s a miracle Vanda Dibble didn’t see him arrive at the scene,” said Marge.

“Oh, I’m sure she did,” said Odelia. “She saw what she figured was just another drug dealer arrive, and unload what she assumed was a big shipment of drugs. She didn’t report it to the police, since she’d reported that kind of thing so many times before, and she’d lost faith in the police department.”

“Raiding that place was on my list,” Uncle Alec muttered. When Charlene rubbed his arm, he added apologetically, “It’s a long list.”

“I know, honey,” said the Mayor. “And you are understaffed. And I will make sure you get more people so that this sort of thing won’t happen again.”

“So he killed his brother, and then what?” asked Tex, who’d joined them at the table, tongs in hand, allowing the meat on the grill to sizzle merrily—though perhaps a touch too long.

“Well,” said Odelia, “now he had to take his brother’s place and pretend to be him. Now you can fool the people who only know you superficially, but it’s a lot harder to fool your own family.”

“I think Franklin’s mom figured it out almost immediately,” I said, “but he told her he and Marvin met and Marvin died in a freak accident, and he was too late to save him.”

“And how did he explain that he’d decided to take his brother’s place?” asked Brutus.

“That’s where Ruth made a big mistake,” I explained. “She should have called him out on that, but she didn’t. And it’s understandable, of course. Franklin had always been her favorite son—the son she loved the most, even though he was the most mischievous one. And I think she was so happy to see him return to the bosom of the family that she decided to overlook the ruse. Maybe she even thought it wasn’t such a bad idea, seeing as how Marvin’s death would have meant a great disruption for the business side of things, since her husband would have adamantly refused to accept Franklin suddenly taking over at the helm of the company.”

“And then Herbert Harrison suddenly and conveniently dies,” said Chase.

“I don’t think that was an accident,” said Odelia. “I think Franklin killed his dad. Pushed a pillow down on his face and smothered him. He hasn’t confessed to that yet.”

“But he will,” Chase grunted.

“But why?” asked Harriet.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I said. “The old man must have realized that Franklin had taken the place of his brother, and he wasn’t going to accept that. He also must have suspected that Franklin killed his brother—he knew what kind of man his son was. So Franklin decided to end things for the old man, and grab the reins of the family business free and clear.”

“How horrible,” said Marge, shaking her head.

“Yeah, he’s a real piece of work,” Odelia agreed.

“So what about Francine Ritter?” asked Gran. “Why did he try to kill her?”

“Because she recognized her husband the moment she saw him. She wasn’t fooled. And he knew that would happen, which is why he refused to see her. But then they happened to meet on the street, and that was it. Francine knew it was him, and quickly put two and two together, and decided to use the opportunity to finally make him pay. And he promised he would, until he decided he wouldn’t—and tried to kill her.”

“God,” said Scarlett. “What a terrible business.”

“But how did you find out, Max?” asked Harriet. “How did you figure it out?”

“Well, two things,” I said. “First there was the shed, and then there were the slippers.”

“The shed and the slippers? That sounds like a Disney movie.”

“So when we visited the Harrisons we saw that little shed that was half burned down. At first I thought this must have happened a long time ago, but then Jane—she’s the pony who used to belong to Francine’s girls—told me how the gardener was such a marvel. How he always kept the place looking so immaculate. So it got me wondering why a gardener like that would tolerate that decrepit old shed? And of course he didn’t. That fire happened a couple of days ago, when Franklin murdered Marvin. And then he decided to have it torn down to remove the evidence, and build a pagoda in its