Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 11 Who Lived High

"I have a snoopy nature and a little experience in criminal investigation. There are tenants who heard screams just before Ross landed on Yazbro's car. Dianne's murderer tossed the artist over the parapet, after dragging him down to the dark end of the terrace." Qwilleran kept a sharp eye on his guest and saw his hand go into his sweater pocket. "Want any more ice?" he asked as he carried his own glass to the bar. Feeling secure behind the massive piece of furniture, he went on. "But here's the clincher: You see that skylight up there? Someone was on the roof when it happened. There was a witness!" Jupiter struggled to his feet. Qwilleran thought, he's half-bombed! The man walked unsteadily to the bar and stood on the dhurrie, his hand still in his pocket. Wordlessly the two of them faced each other across the bar, until the heavy silence was broken by a clatter of glassware as something dropped between them. Koko had flown through the air, landing on the bar with arched back, bushed tail, flattened ears, and bared fangs.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Jupiter sneaked around the end of the bar, snatching a small tube from his pocket. As he raised it there was a click and a knifeblade shot out. Qwilleran, without taking his eye off the knife, grabbed a bottle by the neck. For one frozen moment they faced each other. At the same time a blur of fur passed between the two men, landing on the assailant's shoulder. A whiplike tail flicked twice.

There was a yell of pain, and the man put a hand to his eyes. The other hand wavered, and Qwilleran smashed down hard on the knife, then brought the bottle down on Jupiter's head. As he collapsed, Qwilleran kicked the knife away and stood over him with the bottle.

The French doors burst open! Two figures appeared on the level above. One of them had a gun.

"Hold it! I got you covered!" Qwilleran started to raise his hands before he realized that the man with the handgun was wearing a red golf hat. The man behind him had the paunchy figure of Arch Riker.

"Call the police!" Qwilleran yelled.

Riker's ruddy face turned pale. "Qwill! You're supposed to be dead!"

20

"I NEED A DRINK!" said Arch Riker after the police and their prisoner had cleared out.

"First tell me what the hell you're doing here!" Qwilleran demanded of his friend.

"I came to feed the cats! And claim your remains at the morgue!" "I don't get it." Riker explained slowly and clearly. "The police here called Brodie in Pickax early this morning.

They told him someone shot at you on the freeway. They said your car crashed and burned. They said you were incinerated along with all identification. They traced the car to you through the license plates." "Someone stole my car! That's what happened." "Whatever. I picked up your dental records from Dr. Zoller and caught the first plane out of Pickax. The whole of Moose County is in mourning." Qwilleran started for the telephone. "I'd better call Polly." "Don't! She'll have a stroke. She thinks you're dead. I'll call Brodie and he can break the good news to her. Also, I should call my news desk and the radio station. If you're feeling generous, you can pour me a double scotch." When the two men settled down in the library with their drinks, Qwilleran posed a question: "Was the episode on the freeway a random shooting? Or did they think they were taking a shot at me?" "Why would anyone want to shoot you?" "It's a long story." Koko walked into the room with feline insouciance as if nothing had happened all evening. He jumped to the library table and sat on the Van Gogh.

"Where's Yum Yum?" Riker asked. "In the bedroom, sleeping her life away. I've got to get the cats back to Pickax.

Something here disagrees with them." "If people are taking shots at you and threatening you with knives, you'd better get your own tail back to Pickax, friend. What have you been doing? Meddling again? Snooping where you have no business?" "Do you want to hear the whole story, Arch? Or do you want to preach a sermon?" Qwilleran asked.

He related the murder-suicide myth as reported in the newspaper and described Koko's several discoveries.

"Here's the bracelet," he said, drawing it from a desk drawer.

"What's the significance of the numbers?" "It's obviously a private code between lovers. I think the numbers refer to the value of letters in a Scrabble set.