Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 11 Who Lived High

Instantly Mrs. Tuttle and Rupert were on the scene, the custodian retrieving the woman's cane and the manager saying, "Are you all right, Mrs. Button?" Set back on her feet but shaking violently, the woman raised her cane as if to strike and screamed in a cracked voice, "That man grabbed me!" "He saved you, Mrs. Button," explained the manager. "You could have fallen and broken your hip." "He grabbed me!" "Wheelchair," Mrs. Tuttle mumbled, and Rupert quickly brought one from the office and took the offended victim upstairs in Old Green, while Qwilleran surveyed the gooey hash on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Qwilleran," said Mrs. Tuttle. "Is that your dinner?" "It was my dinner. Anyway, the plate didn't break, but I'm afraid I messed up your floor." "Don't worry about that. The boy will take care of it." "I don't think that will be necessary," he said. Kitty-Baby had been joined by Napoleon and two other cats, and the quartet was lapping it up, coleslaw and all.

"At least let me wash your plate," Mrs. Tuttle offered.

"It looks as if Old Red is my nemesis," said Qwilleran as he nodded his thanks to a child who handed him his buttered roll and a man who picked up the Grinchman & Hills report, straightening its rumpled pages.

"Could the boy go out and bring you something to eat?" the manager suggested.

"I think not, thank you. I'll go upstairs and feed the cats and then go out to dinner." When he opened the door of 14-A, Koko and Yum Yum came forward nonchalantly.

"How about showing some concern?" he chided them. "How about displaying a little sympathy? I've just had a grueling experience." They followed him into the kitchen and watched politely as he opened a can of crabmeat.

They were neither prowling nor yowling nor ankle-rubbing, and Qwilleran realized that they were not hungry.

"Has someone been up here?" he demanded.

"Did they give you something to eat?" When he placed the plate of food on the floor, the cats circled it and sniffed from all angles before consenting to nibble daintily. Then Qwilleran was sure someone had been feeding them. He inspected the apartment for signs of intrusion and found no evidence in the library or in either bedroom. The doors to the terrace were locked. Both bathrooms were undisturbed. Only in the gallery was there anything different, and he could not imagine exactly what it was. The Indian dhurrie still covered the bloodstain on the carpet; no artwork was missing; the potted trees had all their leaves, but something had been changed.

At that moment Koko entered the gallery and embarked on a businesslike program of sniffing. He sniffed at the foot of the stairs, alongside the sofa, on the gallery level between trees, and in front of the stereo.

"The pails!" Qwilleran shouted. "Someone took the pails!" He hurried to the housephone in the kitchen and said to a surprised Mrs. Tuttle, "What happened to my pails?" "Your what?" she asked. "This is Qwilleran in 14-A. There were plastic pails standing around my living room to catch drips when the skylight leaks. What happened to them? It might rain!" "Oh, I forgot to tell you," she apologized. "The man was here to fix the skylight today, so Rupert collected the pails. I forgot to tell you during the trouble with Mrs. Button." "I see. Sorry to bother you." He tamped his moustache. He would have to speak firmly to Rupert about feeding the animals. But his annoyance at the custodian was erased by his admiration for Koko. That cat had known the exact location of every pail!

Now Qwilleran was twice as hungry. Carrying the clean plastic plate he returned to the Carriage House Caf‚.

"Oh, it's you again!" cried the cashier in delight. "How did you like the special? You didn't need to bring the plate back right away." "It was so good," Qwilleran said, "that I'd like to do it all over again, including that delicious coleslaw and perhaps two rolls if you can spare them." He sat on a stool at the counter, and the cashier insisted on serving him herself, while the cook waved a friendly hand in the small window of the kitchen door and later sent out a complimentary slice of apple pie.

Thus fortified, Qwilleran returned to the Casablanca, where he found the red-hatted Rupert sitting at the manager's desk, reading a comic book. "I notice that the skylight's been repaired," he said to the custodian.

"Yep. No more leaks." The man held up crossed fingers.

"How did you get along with the cats when you picked up the pails?" "Okay. I gave 'em a jelly doughnut. They gobbled it up." "Jelly doughnut!" Qwilleran was aghast.

Rupert, misunderstanding his reaction, excused the apparent extravagance by explaining that it was a stale doughnut that had been lying around the basement for several days.