Hey gang!
First, I'm really sorry for the lateness in this, especially when I had the first part completed for the last three weeks. It wasn't until today that inspiration actually came to me again so I could finish this. So, for my lateness, I present this a day early.
In case you need a recap - our froggy gumshoe met with the researchers for Vane Industries, with Kermit getting a secret meeting with Beaker Von Tropp. Beaker gives him the scoop on the argument between Piggy and her father, as well as his thoughts on what exactly happened to Horace Vane. But as soon as Kermit leaves, Von Tropp finds himself dead.
Kermit doesn't escape harm either, being nearly hit by a speeding car before they turned around and tried to shoot him.
VII.
Piggy Vane may have been a lot of things, but petty wasn’t one of them.
Well…for the most part.
It had been two days since her dinner with the handsome Kermit Hollywood and two days since he had stormed off after learning that she happened to frequent an illegal gambling outfit, the same one that saw Count Gonzolo and his henchmen on a weekly basis. It wasn’t that she was keeping that from him, she just didn’t see how it was related to the death of her father, that’s all!
True be told, Piggy had found herself thinking about the frog ever since she had walked into his office. She didn’t know what it was, whether it was him or her, but she couldn’t deny that there was something about him that just pulled her to him. Maybe it was because he was nice enough to indulge her about her father’s death or perhaps it was because he had, so far, been so kind to her; even after she had essentially followed one of the suspect’s henchmen, he hadn’t scolded her for doing so.
Until Rowlf had to open his big trap about knowing her.
In hindsight, she could understand the tie-in and certainly what Rowlf had told them was something – that Gonzolo and the boys hadn’t been in the week her father died. That was something, wasn’t it?
In that time, she had thought Hollywood would’ve called, let her know what might be happening, but there was nothing of the sort. Perhaps he really was steamed at her; and that was why she headed down to his office to speak with him. In person. Piggy knew when she had been in the wrong and in many cases, she could admit that she had been tough on someone.
That’s when a heartfelt apology was warranted and in all of the years she had to apologize to someone, no one was more deserving than the detective working her case.
To her knowledge, Kermit had been working diligently on her case and probably wasn’t even in his office, but she hoped he was and that he wasn’t just trying to ignore her. The outer door was unlocked and just like when she had first entered the office, the secretary was no where to be found. Piggy decided to continue on towards Hollywood’s office door, hearing the sounds of someone inside and hoping that it was indeed Kermit.
She knocked once before turning the knob, and poking her head inside the door. She tried not to blow out a breath of relief in seeing the slender form of the frog detective, his back turned as he seemed to be looking for something in a nearby cabinet drawer. “Kermit,” she sighed, walking in and closing the door behind her. “I’m so glad you’re in today, I…what happened to you?”
At hearing his name, the frog turned, revealing the scrapes and bruises he had gotten the night before. While his face was remarkably unmarred, he couldn’t say the same for his left arm, which had scraped up and a bit bruised, not to mention that he had felt stiff to him that morning; his right arm had only come out with a few scrapes, luckily, however it really didn’t do him any good seeing as he was normally left handed.
Seeing one of the major problems with this case, Kermit sneered at her, asking, “Surprised to see me?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Would it also surprise you if Rowlf were to walk in right now?”
“Frog, if I wanted insults this early in the morning, I’d head to a butcher shop,” she huffed. Well, he was obviously still mad after all. “Now are you going to tell me what happened or not?”
“Last night,” he began, still searching around the office for something. “I was nearly runned down and shot.”
“Oh my!” she exclaimed, walking towards him, only to have him duck out of her way. “Are you alright?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” he quipped. “Or were you not expecting to see me?”
“What is with you?” she asked, finally putting her hands on her hips. She watched as he apparently found what he was looking for – a bag in order to put some ice in it for his arm – before he took a place on the desk. “I’m barely in the door for five minutes and you’re accusing me of trying to kill you! What kind of racket are you playing with? Why would I want…oh give me that!”
She had been watching him struggle with having an ice pack on one arm while trying to apply a band-aid with the other and failing miserably at it. Taking the adhesive from him, she careful began to tend to some of the scrapes he had gotten. They stayed like that, him holding the ice bag, while she cleaned and disinfected his wounds; he was trying to build up the same steam he held earlier, but was failing at it.
How was he supposed to yell at someone who was trying to heal him?
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Almost being killed makes me a bit jumpy.”
“You got some nerve, Hollywood,” she said, quietly. “I came to you to find out answers and you turn on me faster than a dime. What gives?”
“We found your handkerchief in the safe.”
“What?”
Sighing, Kermit replied, “When Hess and I were looking through your father’s study, we found his hidden safe. His will wasn’t there, but your monogramed handkerchief was. That and your knowledge about Rowlf’s little outfit, well…”
“So you put two and two together and got five, is that it?” she asked, incredulously.
The detective did have the grace to blush. Admittedly, that wasn’t much to really go on, in terms of evidence. “Something like that,” he whispered. “This simple little murder case is anything but, from my point of view.”
“Did it ever occur to you that of course some of my things would be there?” she asked. “He was my father after all and certainly you could imagine that someone might have planted it there.”
“I thought about that.”
“Really.”
“Hey,” Kermit protested. “From my angle, you make a pretty good suspect yourself. The only daughter, the obvious heir apparent, your stuff is found in a hidden safe that should be holding a will, and then there’s that argument you had with him…”
“Now I get it,” she huffed, pulling away from him. “You hear some second rate gossip and you immediately assume the worst. No wonder you get paid the bucks.”
“Lay off,” he said. “What am I supposed to think?”
“That it was a simple argument,” she insisted. “And arguments are not necessarily a case for murder. Yes, we argued and yes…it was a pretty bad one.”
“What about?”
Piggy sighed, turning away from him in embarrassment. “Be square with me,” he whispered. “You know I don’t wanna think what I do, but you gotta help me out, Piggy.”
“Will this make you happy?” she asked. “Will this set your mind at ease? Will you believe that I didn’t kill my father if I tell you?”
“You gotta tell me first, angel.”
“It was about that little place off 404,” she whispered. “Father thought I was spending a little too much time there, especially when the Count and his little hellions turned around and ratted me out. He thought it was a place I shouldn’t be seen at and the fact that the Count happened to go there, well…see, it’s perfectly fine for his business partner to spend all of his money there, but not me, you know?
“I’m convinced he had Andrew tailing me over there, making sure I wasn’t getting into too much trouble. It really is a nice place – you go, get a drink, place your bets, and win a little dough.”
“What happens when you don’t make the dough?”
“I told you,” she repeated. “Rowlfie runs a nice place, you hardly ever saw trouble over there.” Piggy finished with his arm, before a look of confusion crossed her face. “Kermit,” she began. “What did you mean earlier? About my being surprised if Rowlf walked through the door?”
This time, it was Kermit was sighed. “This is gonna be rough to hear, angel,” he started. “But Rowlf’s dead, shot and killed in the alleyway behind that joint of his.” Piggy seemed to sag into herself; despite the circumstances, Rowlf had been a friend who had always watched out for her when she had been in the place, keeping tabs on both Rizzo, Pepe, and even Gonzolo in the case they should bother her.
“I’m so sorry, Piggy,” Kermit whispered. “I honestly think he was killed because he wanted to tell me something. Why else would he tell us that Gonzolo’s boys hadn’t been in?”
“What happened?”
“I headed out to that joint of his,” he continued. “Got word that La Rue was there, but by the time I started looking for him, he scrammed outta there and left me holding the dog, as it were.”
“Do you think Pepe killed him?”
“I dunno,” Kermit said, shaking his head. “But in order to find the truth I gotta find him.” The detective was silent for a bit, not only thinking about the shrimp that got away, but also about the pig that stood next to him.
He hadn’t meant to be so accusing; she had startled him, bursting into the office like that, especially after the night he had. He had spent the rest of the night, painfully tossing and turning in his bed, thinking over what he knew or rather, what he didn’t know. None of the clues were making much sense and the vague pieces he got didn’t seem to be fitting together the way he thought they would or even should.
Talking to her now – learning the true nature of the argument she had with her father, as well as learning that Rowlf was dead – put her back into the limelight that his heart had placed upon her. It was stupid! He was a cop, a gumshoe and she, a socialite with a rich, dead daddy; they had nothing in common except for this case and when it was over, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t even see her again.
And thinking that, the frog grew even quieter.
What was wrong with him? He had worked other cases with dames before, why was this one so special all of a sudden?
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he whispered, turning to look at her. All that bravado she seemed to have stored up within her had more than likely drained once she had heard about Rowlf. He could see the slight wetness around her eyes, an heroic and failed attempt to try and hide the tears she wanted to shed.
“For telling me what happened. Means a lot.”
Piggy looked away hurriedly, but not before Kermit caught a glance at the blush that had risen on her cheeks. “Careful, Frog,” she retorted. “People might mistake your sentiment for caring.”
The gumshoe couldn’t help but smirk. So that was her game, huh? “I make a hard and fast rule, Miss Vane,” he said. “Never date a client.”
Piggy fully took a seat on the desk, crossing one smooth, creamy leg over the other, raising a slim eyebrow at Kermit as she did. “Really?” she asked, coyly. “That’s too bad.”
Gulping, the detective did his best to move his eyes from her legs to her face, muttering, “Tell me about it.” Turning, he quickly made his way towards a water dispenser and taking a cup. “What did you come over for?” he asked, finishing his drink before taking another.
“Oh!” Piggy replied, turning slightly to look at him. “Well, I figured you were a bit, well…cross with me, which is completely understandable!” she quickly amended, once Kermit turned to glare at her. “You were right; I should’ve told you about my knowing Rowlf and the kind of place he ran, but I honestly didn’t think it was an important detail.
“But that’s why you’re the detective and I, the mere client.”
“Oh really?” he asked, walking towards her. Casually leaning on the desk next to her, Kermit appeared to all the world as though he was the coolest cucumber ever; in reality, he was doing his best to ignore the enticing aroma that was her perfume, as well as the closeness that his arrival now presented.
“Seems to me like you’re gunning to be a partner there, slick,” he continued. “What with you following around suspected criminals and all. You sure you’re not undercover?”
Giggling, the heiress turned a flirtatious look on her host. “Maybe you need a partner, Kermit,” she replied. “Someone to keep you out of trouble on long nights.”
Not one to make an outward show of just how much he was being affected by her womanly ways or that he even cared that she was effecting him just so, Kermit smirked, stating, “I do believe the pig cares.”
“I don’t care,” Piggy huffed. “Just getting used to you, is all.”
“Well don’t get too comfortable,” he retorted. “Cause this frog doesn’t pick up hitchhikers.”
Whether it was what he said or the way he said it, Kermit didn’t know, but whatever it was he did, caused his client to grab him by the tie and pulling him in dangerous closeness to her.
“You don’t tell me what to do,” she growled. Both were shocked however at the seductiveness the command had, the complete opposite of the menacing tone Piggy was hoping to put across.
“I’d be a fool to even try.”
“I’ve known bigger fools than you before.”
“It’s not the knowing of the fool, it’s how you fool them into knowing they’re fools…that…sounded much better when I was thinking it…”
Leaning in closer, she whispered, “No Mrs. Hollywood, you said?”
“Right,” he gulped, but none the less, he leaned in towards her anyways. “At least, not yet.”
If the thought of kissing Piggy Vane had ever been on the mind of one Kermit Hollywood, it would need to stay on his mind, as the jingling of the telephone created even more of a spark from the couple than they had felt during their time together. Clearing his throat repeatedly, while simultaneously shaking off the nervousness and building tension from the room, he quickly removed himself from Piggy’s presence and grabbed the receiver on the fourth ring.
“Hollywood,” he barked, grimacing when he heard the surprised response from Fozzie on the other end. “Sorry, buddy,” he said, listening to what his friend had to say. “What? When? Yeah…yeah, Fozzie, we’ll be right there. Thanks!”
“What is it?”
“That was Fozzie,” he replied, grabbing his jacket and coat. “Looks like last night was a busy night; someone just snuffed Von Tropp.”
[hr]
Arriving back at the last place he had seen a very alive Beaker Von Tropp, Kermit wasn’t surprised to see the amount of cops that were already inside and surrounding the business building. He managed to get both himself and Piggy into the lobby, thanks to his friendship with several officers, in order to see the very scene of the crime.
The duo was quickly spotted by Fozzie, who rushed over to them. “So glad you got here, Kermit,” he sputtered.
“What happened here?” asked Piggy.
“That Count guy - ” here, the bear officer nodded to the blue business weirdo who was currently speaking to Det. Marlowe on the side. “ – found him when he came in this morning. We’re still trying to figure out what happened, but it looks like he was strangled. Must’ve gotten on with the wrong kinda guy.”
“That’s impossible,” the frog muttered. “He was alone last night. He was the only one in the building.”
“How do you know that?” the heiress asked.
“Because I was the last person to see him alive.”
Hollywood broke from the group, leaving Fozzie and Piggy stunned at his revelation, and headed towards Marlowe and Gonzolo. “And that’s when you found him?” Marlowe was asking, taking notes in a small notebook.
“Yes sir,” Gonzolo nodded. “I have an office on the third floor and as my custom, I usually take the elevator to go up. You can imagine my shock when I discover a dead body. Ah, perhaps we should hand the case over to our friendly gumshoe here. He seems to be collecting murder cases by the bundle.”
“The bodies do keep piling up, don’t they?” Kermit asked. Turning to address Marlowe, he said, “Let me take a crack at him. The Count and I have some unfinished business to discuss.”
“Do we?” Gonzolo asked, chuckling slightly. Looking over the frog’s shoulder, the chuckle turned to a sneer upon seeing the company that Kermit was keeping. “I suppose we do. How can I help the great detective Hollywood?”
“This have anything to do with the case you’re working on?” Marlowe asked.
“It might.”
Marlowe was a tall man, hovering at about six feet, with short dark hair and piercing eyes. He had known Kermit for quite some time and that was probably the only reason he would even consider walking away and leaving the detective with the person who found the body. Marlowe had joined the force at the same time Hollywood had, but while the frog found his calling in being a hired private eye, Marlowe enjoyed the fast pace that being a police detective afforded.
Giving the frog a look before focusing on Gonzolo, the detective nodded, handing the Count a card. “In case you don’t find me when you finish,” he replied. “Give me a call should anything crop up.” Turning to Kermit, he whispered, “Make it quick. You know what’ll happen should Capt. Hot Dog find out about this.”
Kermit nodded, only sparing a side glance as Marlowe left them.
“Speaking of murders,” Gonzolo piped up. “How’s the one you’re working on?”
“It would go a lot smoother if I could find your boy La Rue.”
“Pepe?” the Count asked, shrugging. “I have no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Then I guess you wouldn’t know where he went after he left that gambling joint.”
“What gambling joint?”
From the smug look on his face, Hollywood knew Gonzolo was just toying with him, purposely avoiding the questions being aimed at him. This was the perfect chance to ask some of the questions he needed answered, however if what Marlowe said was true, he would only have a small window in which to do so.
And that window was effectively closing, especially when Piggy made her way over.
“Pretty convenient of you to find the body,” she began, glaring at her father’s business partner and ignoring the glare she was receiving from Kermit.
“Ah, Piggy,” the weirdo said, smiling sarcastically at her. “Just when I think my day can’t get any brighter, there you are sticking your snout into matters that don’t concern you.”
The low growl was the first sign that trouble was about to brew, but leave it to these two to completely forget where they were. “I’d like to remind both of you that we’re on the site of a homicide and surrounded by the police,” Hollywood whispered, sternly. “Put the gloves away until you’re sure you won’t be arrested or worse.” Convinced he at least had Piggy calmed, for the moment, the frog once again turned his attention back to the Count.
“I’d like to know where you were last night.”
Pointing to himself, Gonzolo asked, “Me? Why, I was at the supper club having a business dinner. And before you ask, gumshoe, I happen to have three very reliable people that can vouch for me.” Chuckling, the Count looked between the frog and the pig. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is,” he replied. “The damsel in distress has pinpointed me as suspect number one with a bullet and you, as her green knight in shining armor, are going to pin anything you can on me.
“Just remember what I told you, Frog, the devil’s in the details with this one.”
“How dare you.”
“I’d like to know where you were last night, Sugar.”
“She was with me,” Kermit interrupted, stunning both heiress and count.
“How convenient,” the Count muttered. “And I suppose that was all night then, too.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” the detective agreed. “And then we had breakfast, so I guess you could say she was with me all morning too.”
“I see,” Gonzolo grinned. “And just when, if ever, will you be telling the police this important information?”
“Just as soon as you tell me where La Rue is.”
“And I tell you, I don’t know,” Gonzolo countered. “Just cause I know the guy doesn’t mean I keep tabs on him. And as for the ‘supposed’ murder of Horace, maybe you aren’t looking in the right direction.” It was just the thing Piggy needed when both males looked to her, though Kermit was a bit more discreet.
“And just why would I kill Beaker?” Piggy huffed.
“Isn’t that why you hired him?”
“I guess it would suprirse you if I told you Beaker was alive and well last night,” Kermit reported.
“Yes, I guess that would surprise me,” Gonzolo nodded. “Such a busy little bee you are; surprised you actually manage to solve anything.”
“Oh, I’ll solve this alright,” Kermit sneered. “And if I get even a whiff of a scent that you’re involved…”
“You’ll what?”
“Take you down faster than you spend your money,” Piggy finished.
“Cute.”
Seeing as they were getting no where arguing and accusing one another, Kermit decided to play the same hand he had when speaking to Piggy that morning. “Must’ve thrown you for a loop to see me walk in here, none the worse for wear,” he stated.
“How’s that?”
“Was almost killed last night.”
“Oh that was you?” The Count asked, nonchalantly. “Sorry I missed you.”
“I’m not the one who’s going to be sorry at the end of this.”
“I’m sure,” the Count replied, smirking at them both. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Nick and Nora, I do have a business to run.”
With that being the final word on the matter, Gonzolo headed towards the stairway in order to head up to his office, leaving the frog, the pig, the body, and the police in his wake.
“Why did you mention all that stuff?”
“What?”
“About you meeting Beaker and nearly getting killed?”
“Worked on you, didn’t it?”
“What?”
Turning to her, Kermit explained. “When I threw all that at you, you came back with the reasons of why you couldn’t have been involved. Gonzolo never did that.”
“You think he knows something?”
“Don’t you?” he countered. “I think he knows exactly where Pepe is and he’s not telling us. Just like I think he knows the reason Beaker was killed; both of them know something that we don’t. Beaker’s already got his one way ticket and dollars to donuts, I’m betting that Pepe is gonna get his soon.”
“So what do we do?”
“I’m gonna find out what the guys think this is,” Kermit replied. “Then I’m gonna start putting the word out that I’m looking for a lothario shrimp. You…” Looking at her, the frog was easily swept away by the eagerness to please and by those pools of baby blues that were her eyes.
“I need you to find out everything about Gonzolo and who he runs with,” he said at last. “And be careful. The last guy I saw ended up being surrounded by police tape; I’d rather not see the same thing happen to you.”
“Why Kermie,” she cooed. “You do care.”
[hr]
For someone who was little two foot nothing, Pepe La Rue knew how to get some big attention. Like now, for instance.
Since the other night, Pepe had been trying to keep a low profile as he was able, fleeing to his little apartment that no one really knew he had. Being a bodyguard of sorts to a wealthy businessman held allure, especially to a small King Prawn from Guadalajara and he took to living an extravagant lifestyle the way he should be living. The Count had introduced him to money, parties, and women – oh, the women! – and Pepe wouldn’t do anything to mess that up.
But mess it up he did and he wasn’t even sure how.
Several nights before had been pleasant to a fault – he did some errands for the Count before heading to the Kit Kat Club in order to see the fine Janice sing. He certainly hadn’t counted on seeing Miss Piggy Vane there and he certainly wasn’t opposed to having her sit at her table, but he was opposed to the nosy green frog that accompanied her. The Count had of course told them about the murder and if things went there way, they’d be coming into a lot of money because of it.
Pepe knew his rights and he knew nobody had anything on him. His next stop was that of what they all called the 404, because of its location off Highway 404; it was a real rocking place that, even more when the musicians at the Kit Kat Club owned and ran it. Pepe, Rizzo, the boy lawyer Hess, Piggy, and the Count were all frequent visitors to the place and everyone pretty much knew who they were. And maybe that was the problem.
The shrimp – King Prawn, h’okay? – had been enjoying one of the tables when someone passed him a note. The only reason he even looked at it was because it was covering his drink and the pretty waitress girl had smiled at him, asking him to make sure he read it. For a pretty woman, he would do anything! So he read it and it seemed as though all emotion and all feeling left his tiny little body.
He had high tailed it out of there, hopeful in the fact that Rowlf, the main dog in charge, hadn’t seen him.
So Pepe was held up in his apartment, too afraid to venture out. Even the ringing of the phone scared him, causing him to jump up and scream. Picking up the receiver, he shouted, “Why jou do that, huh? Scaring the pants on me?”
“Shut up,” came the gruff voice of Rizzo. “Where’ve you been? The boss wants to see us later.”
“Jou tells him I’m sick, h’okay?”
“Oh, so you heard huh?”
“Heard what?”
“About Beaker,” Rizzo confirmed. “He’s dead.”
“Who?”
“You know, the carrot top.”
“He’s dead?” Pepe asked. “No, I has not heard that. When dis happen?”
“Sometime last night or something,” the rat continued. “That’s why the boss wants to see us, wants to make sure we gots our stories straight.”
“Mira,” Pepe huffed. “I no kill the carrot top, h’okay? I don’t even knows him, why I kill him, huh?”
“Man, did I say you did?” the rat countered. “What is with you?”
“Mira, I was at the 404 last night, h’okay? And someone slips me a note that says el perro knows, entende?”
“Knows what?”
“No se, I heads out before I know, h’okay?”
“Idiot,” Rizzo reprimanded. “You don’t even know what the note was about and you panicked. See, this is why we don’t do stuff together anymore. You’re a liability.”
“Jou’s are a…a…what it was jou said!”
“Moron,” the rat muttered. “Be here at seven o’clock. And don’t be late!”
The sound of a click and a dial tone all happened before Pepe could get off an appropriate response, instead hanging up the phone himself, while muttering about demanding rats and the annoying reasons why they should never use big words people don’t understand. He still had a few hours left and though he was trying to keep low in the case the puppy dog had ratted them out to the police, Pepe was not a docile being. He craved lights, the city, and the women and he couldn’t get either while being cooped up in here.
An idea came to mind – he certainly didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but going to the corner nightclub couldn’t be bad, right? He was still in the area and close to home and certainly, nowhere near Rowlf or his gambling club. It was perfect!
Perfection is always in the eye of the beholder and while Pepe thought his plan brilliant, there were snags to come, especially when the little guy wasn’t even aware that he was being watched and watched closely by hidden eyes.