Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 12 Who Knew A Cardinal

"I don't know," she said. "My mother always did it that way, so I do it that way. How's everything upstairs?"

"Everything's fine. The room looks very comfortable. You have quite a collection of antiques."

"It's all been handed down in the family, with each generation adding its own touch, for better or worse. My great- great-grandfather Inglehart built the house. Grandmother Inglehart lives on the third Boor. We call her Grummy. Are you going to drive around town?"

"I prefer to walk. Which way shall I go?"

"Well, you might go down the hill to the courthouse and turn right on Fourth Street. That's where all the stores are. It ends at the river. Originally both banks of the river were crammed with sawmills and shipyards. Now there's Inglehart Park on one side and condos on the other."

"Do you have a bookstore?"

"Two doors beyond the city hall. It's a cast-iron storefront where Bushy's grandfather used to have his watch-the- birdie photo studio before World War I."

Qwilleran enjoyed walking and sightseeing, and as he strode down the hill he was amazed at the huge houses, masterpieces of architectural gingerbread, their details accentuated with two or even three colors of paint. They looked festive compared to the stolid stone mansions of Pickax! He found the store with the cast-iron front and bought a book on horsemanship. In the basement there were used books, but City of Brotherly Crime was not among them. At an antique shop he found a collection of printshop mementos and bought a small engraving of a whale.

Many of the stores capitalized on the horseyness of Lockmaster. Equus was a men's store. The Tacky Tack Shop displayed gaudy sweatshirts, T-shirts, and posters with a steeplechase theme. In the Foxtrottery everything from paper napkins to fireplace andirons had a horse or fox motif, but nothing appealed to Qwilleran. And then he spotted the public library!

It was obviously built from the same set of Greek temple blueprints that produced the Pickax library - with the same classical columns, the same seven steps, the same pair of ornamental lampposts. He entered, expecting a Shakespeare quotation on a chalkboard in the vestibule, but there was only a bulletin board announcing new video releases. He asked for the chief librarian whom he knew only as Polly's friend, Shirley.

"Mrs. Corcoran is in her office on the mezzanine," said the clerk.

The stairway was the same design as in Pickax; the glass-enclosed office occupied the same location; and the woman sitting behind the desk could have been Polly's sister. She had the graying hair, pleasant face, conservative suit, and size sixteen figure.

He introduced himself. "Mrs. Corcoran, I'm Bootsie's godfather."

"Oh, you must be Jim Qwilleran," she cried. "Polly has talked about you so much. Do sit down. How is Bootsie?"

Qwilleran pulled up a chair, characteristically of varnished oak and hard-seated.

"He's a handsome cat with an insatiable appetite. In another few years, I estimate, he'll be the size of a small pony."

"His mother and siblings are the same way, and yet they never put on weight. I wish I knew their secret. Are you down for the 'chase?"

"Yes, it's my first venture. I'm staying with the Bushlands."

"That should be pleasant. Bushy was the official photographer at my son's wedding. You should have come down with Polly. Everyone had a wonderful time. I've just received the album of wedding pictures. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes, I would," he said with convincing sincerity, although wedding pictures were second only to weddings on his list of things to avoid.

Mrs. Corcoran opened the album to a portrait of the happy couple at the altar, after the vows. "These are the kids, Donald and Heidi. Doesn't he look handsome? He's just out of law school and he has a position with Summers, Bent & Frickle. Heidi is a lovely girl, a dietician. Her father is a stockbroker and her mother is a psychiatrist. They go to our church.... And here they are with both sets of proud parents... And here are the attendants. The maid of honor caught the bouquet..."

Qwilleran murmured appropriate remarks as he politely viewed the candid shots of wedding guests: "Here's someone I know," he said, pointing to a man with ashen hair. "He's a reporter at the Moose County Something."

"Yes. Dave Landrum. One of Donald's golfing friends," she said.

And then Qwilleran caught a glimpse of Polly. She was wearing an electric blue dress he had never seen before, and she was dancing with a man who wore a red beard. She was looking entirely too happy. She had probably been imbibing champagne instead of her usual thimbleful of sherry. As the pages of the album turned, he watched with more interest. There she was again! This time she was sitting at a table with the same bearded man and having an animated conversation. He was wearing a green plaid sports coat that seemed inappropriate at a wedding reception.

"Who is the fellow with the beard?" Qwilleran asked casually, adding untruthfully, "He looks familiar."