Cat Who Went Up the Creek

Brodie grunted, then stared at the cat, who responded amiably. In the beginning the chief had scoffed at Koko’s intuitive reactions and discoveries—until a detective Down Below assured him the cat was “psychic.”

Now he poured another Scotch and listened to the rest of the story: how Koko had identified the first victim as a gold prospector . . . how he had known it was the man’s body coming downstream and not just a six-foot log . . . how his howls had succeeded in getting them evicted from 3FF. As if he sensed that all the action was going to be down by the creek.

“Why not?” Brodie asked. “They say cats can predict earthquakes. . . . Is it okay if I give these two photos to the SBI? Off the record, they know who the suspect is. Now it’s a manhunt. I’ll pass along your information—but leave you out of it.”

“Leave both of us out of it.”

Qwilleran walked with his guest to his car.

“Nice night,” Brodie said.

“Yes, I’ll walk around the barn before I go indoors. Three times around is a quarter of a mile, according to the pedometer.”

“Almost forgot, Qwill. My wife wanted to tell you about a thought she had. Everybody knows that Fanny Klingenschoen never gave anything away. Do you think the K Fund’s generosity has Fanny turning over in her grave?”

Qwilleran chuckled. “I only know that a wise man once said three hundred years ago that money is like muck; it doesn’t do any good unless you spread it around.”

Before going inside to give the Siamese their bedtime snack, Qwilleran walked around the barn two times. He wondered, How much of Koko’s involvement in the case has been the extrasensory perception of a cat with sixty whiskers, and how much has been coincidence? As for the cat’s oblique way of communicating (operatic “pirates” suggesting tree pirates) . . . that had to be a mix of happenstance and a vivid imagination.

When he went indoors, he first had to sweep up the shards of the moustache cup. Hunting for dustpan and brush in the broom closet, he called out, “Which one of you rascals pleads guilty to the destruction of a valuable artifact?”

“Yargle!” came the reply—from a cat yowling and swallowing at the same time. Both cats were on the snack bar. Koko was swallowing his last tongueful of chicken liver paté and Yum Yum was looking ruefully at the empty bowl.