Canine Christmas Read Free Page B

looked in the living room door.” I pointed. “Right over there. Stuck her head in, looked in the direction of the Christmas tree. I called her, and after a moment or two, she trotted over and went out the back door.”
    “Uh-huh,” the policeman said. “And what do you conclude from this?”
    “There was someone in the living room who attracted her attention. Most likely the decedent and his killer.”
    “Did you hear sounds from the living room?”
    “No, I didn't. Frankly, I didn't hear a thing.”
    “And what makes you think they were there?”
    “Zelda's actions.” I shrugged. “And the resultant corpse.”
    The policeman held up his finger. “Aha. The corpse. How do you know that wasn't what attracted the dog's attention? The body could have been lying there, and the murder could have happened some time before.”
    “I don't think so.”
    “Why not?”
    “Zelda's actions. This morning, when we found the body, she trotted right over to it, sniffed it. If it had been there last night, that's what she would have done. But she stopped in the doorway. Cautiously. Which is what she would have done if there had been two people in there not on the friendliest of terms. Dogs are very sensitive. They read body language well. It is my contention that Zelda got a look at the decedent and his killer very shortly before the deed.”
    “Oh, that's ridiculous,” said the bearded man I thought was a sailor but who had turned out to be a life insurance salesman. “It means nothing of the kind.”
    “Oh, you think not?” the policeman said. “Well, I think it might. Mr. Hastings has a theory, and a very interesting one.” He gestured to me. “Why don't you tell them what it is?”
    “It's very simple,” I said. “Zelda is very smart. She saw two people arguing. Then she saw one of them dead. She can make the connection one person harmed the other.”
    This time it was the middle-aged man who spoke. “I think that is a little much. Mr. Hastings, are you telling me the dog knows who committed the crime?”
    “I wouldn't go that far,” I said. “She doesn't know she knows it. All she knows is two people didn't like each other and one is dead. She doesn't really know the other person killed him. That is a leap we have to make. But she knows who that other person is. ”
    “Oh, for goodness' sake,” Abercrombie said. “You expect us to believe that?”
    “No, I don't,” I said. “But I can prove it.”
    For once I silenced Abercrombie. He gaped at me, his mouth open.
    I stood up and took a little metal clicker out of my pocket.
    “Zelda,” I said, “go round.”
    Zelda got up and circled me.
    “Sit,” I said.
    Zelda sat at my side.
    “Down,” I said.
    Zelda lay down.
    “Stay,” I said.
    I walked to the middle of the room, turned around. Zelda was still lying there.
    “Zelda, come,” I said.
    Zelda got up, trotted over to me.
    “Sit,” I said.
    Zelda sat and I clicked. I reached in my pocket and handed Zelda a puppy biscuit. She chomped it gratefully, looked up at me expectantly.
    “Zelda,” I said. “Walk with me.”
    Zelda walked at my left side back across the room.
    I stopped, said, “Zelda, sit.”
    Zelda sat at my side.
    I said, “Zelda. Touch killer.”
    There was a stunned silence in the room.
    Zelda looked up at me expectantly.
    Raising my voice slightly, in a high pitched tone dogs like, I repeated, “Zelda. Touch killer.”
    Zelda's eyes traveled around the room. Then she got up, turned, trotted over to the love seat, and put her head in the young man's lap.
    But it was the young woman who sprang up. “No! Stop it!” she cried. “Get her away from him! Danny didn't do it! It was an accident!”
    I must say, Danny no longer looked like the all-American boy. From the expression on his face, and the daggers he was darting at the young girl, I got the impression if it weren't for the others in the room there might have been another “accident.”
    Of course, it was just a trick.