Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 12 Who Knew A Cardinal

Larry, looking immaculate in his custom-tailored suit and highly polished wingtips, said, "Don't let me stay more than twenty minutes. I'm ushering today." The Lanspeaks attended the Old Stone Church across the park from the Klingenschoen Theatre - the largest, oldest, wealthiest congregation in town. He dropped into a chair in an attitude of dejection, saying, "I worry about this situation."

"Did Hilary attend your church?" Qwilleran asked as he poured coffee.

"I don't think he had church affiliations anywhere, but he seemed to be knowledgeable about Eastern religions."

"From what I observed, he seemed to be knowledgeable about everything."

"You can say that again! I remember seeing his r‚sum‚ when we hired him. He'd spent quite some time in Asia and claimed to read and write Chinese - as well as Japanese, which he claimed to speak fluently. His housekeeper told our housekeeper that he had a lot of Oriental stuff around the house... But that's not all! According to the r‚sum‚, he had studied architecture and horticulture; he had been an Equity actor in New York; and he had assorted degrees in education. I suppose you can do all that if you're not tied down with a family and don't spend any time socializing. He never attended athletic events or any other school function, which is a faux pas in a small community. In fact, he was conspicuously invisible on Saturdays and Sundays, although a couple of persons reported seeing him driving south on Friday nights - toward Lockmaster, you know."

"Where he spent the weekend smoking opium and reading Chinese poetry, no doubt," Qwilleran quipped.

"He was shot in the head, according to the radio," Larry said. "Doesn't that sound like a Chinese execution?"

"Or someone was hiding in the backseat, waiting for him to get behind the wheel. That's how they do it in the movies."

"Don't take this too lightly, Qwill. It certainly looks as if the shooter was one of us."

"Or someone who wanted to make it look like one of us."

"I'll tell you one thing - straight. I've never seen a rehearsal period with so much antagonism... On the other hand, could it be some kind of drug connection?"

"I thought Moose County was free of influences from Down Below," Qwilleran said. "There are no fast-food chains. Not even garage sales!"

"But they're going to creep in," Larry predicted, "now that we've started promoting tourism."

Qwilleran refilled the coffee cups. "Were you able to reach the superintendent?"

"Yes, I woke Lyle around four o'clock this morning and broke the news."

"What was his reaction?"

"Well, you know Lyle Compton! He never minces words! He said he'd often felt like braining Hilary himself. That'll be the general reaction around town, believe me! We'll have enough collective guilt in Pickax to sink a battleship."

Qwilleran said, "I just heard that VanBrook expelled Wally Toddwhistle a few weeks short of graduation because of some schoolboy escapade."

"True. And it was a crime on Hilary's part. Wally is a nice quiet kid, and he was a pretty good student. As for the nature of the prank, most people around town got a kick out of it."

"What was the offense?"

"Well, it was like this. Wally's father was a taxidermist, you know, and Wally brought a stuffed skunk to school. Somehow it turned up on the principal's chair. Wally looked like the obvious culprit, although he swore he didn't do it. The whole school board went to bat for him, but VanBrook threw him out. He told the board he'd run the school his way or tear up his contract. Lyle was afraid to cross him."

"It seems like draconian punishment."

"Wally didn't really suffer, though. He'd been working with his father ever since he was a kid, so he just took over the taxidermy shop, and he's doing okay without a diploma. He's simply talented. Hunters allover the Midwest send him their skins."

"More coffee, Larry?"

"No, thanks. This is potent stuff. I'll be waltzing up the center aisle and spilling the offering plate." He looked at his watch. "I hear church bells. I'll talk to you later." On the way out he stopped to say, "Wait till Lockmaster hears about this! The people down there think we're barbarians, and this will confirm their opinion."

As Larry drove away, answering the summons from the tower of the Old Stone Church, another kind of summons could be heard from the third balcony, where the Siamese had been sleeping off the excitement of the night before. Qwilleran released them from their apartment and was feeding them when Polly Duncan telephoned. He assumed she had heard the shocking news on the air, but her greeting was unexpectedly blithe.

"Dearest," she said, "I'm still in Lockmaster. It was a lovely wedding, and we celebrated into the wee hours. Did you give Bootsie his breakfast this morning?"

"Uh-yes," he said, knowing when it was advisable to bend the truth a little. Under the circumstances he had forgotten Bootsie completely.

"How is my little darling? Did he eat well? Did you talk to him?"