Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 12 Who Knew A Cardinal

"And they had lots of kids," Vicki added. "Usually there was at least one unmarried sister or widowed aunt or destitute cousin living with them. Also, when guests came for a visit, they stayed at least a month, because it took a week to get here by stagecoach and sailing ship. There were plenty of servants in those days."

"How are the cats doing?" Bushy asked.

"They've commandeered the bed, and I may have to spend the night on the window seat."

Vicki said, "Grummy is looking forward so much to meeting you, Qwill. She's a sweet old lady, just turned eighty-eight. When my parents retired to Arizona for Dad's health, Grummy deeded this house to Bushy and me, with no strings attached."

"How do you take care of such a big place?"

"I have part-time help. Once upon a time they had a housekeeper, cook, two maids, houseman, gardener, and a driver to take care of the horses and drive the family to church in the carriage."

"They didn't have any riding mowers or leaf-vacuums in those days," Bushy put in.

"And no microwaves or food processors," Vicki added. "Would you like to bring the cats down now, Qwill?"

"I think they should make their formal debut tomorrow morning," he said, "when there are no strangers around. You remember their behavior the last time we were here. I don't want to be embarrassed again."

"Whatever you think best. By the way, Grummy won't join us for cocktails. She'll come down for dinner at seven and won't stay long. She tires easily. We installed an elevator for her - velvet walls and a needlepoint bench - tiny, but she loves it."

Bushy interrupted. "Vicki, did I tell you that Fiona called?"

"No. What's happened this time?" she said with exasperation.

"She and Steve will be a little late. He got tied up at the track."

"Well, I'm serving exactly at seven, regardless. We can't keep Grummy waiting. It seems to me that Steve is always getting tied up. He's probably sleeping one off."

"Give him a break!" her husband said. "All kinds of emergencies come up before a race."

At that point the doorbell rang, and the editor and his wife arrived. They were introduced as Kip and Moira MacDiarmid.

"Spelled M-a-c-capital D-i-a-r-m-i-d," said Moira.

"I know how to spell a good Scottish name like that. My mother was a Mackintosh. The question is: Do you know how to spell Qwilleran?"

"With a QW!" they said in unison.

"We always read you in the Something," the editor explained. "Don't tell your publisher I said so, but your column's the best thing in the whole paper! I wish you were writing for us."

"Make me an offer," Qwilleran said genially.

"I'm sure we couldn't afford you."

"Aren't you the collector of old typefaces? I picked up a few items at the Goodwinter sale this spring."

"So did I. Do you go in for book type or jobbing faces?"

"Mostly I'm interested in small mounted cuts of animals that will fit into a typecase, but I have a modest assortment of fat-face caps, like Ultra Bodoni. What's your specialty?"

"Book faces. I just acquired some 1923 Erasmus, the most beautiful typeface ever designed. I'd like to show you my collection some day."

"Be happy to see it." Moira said to Qwilleran, "Bushy tells us you've converted a barn."

"Yes, an octagonal apple barn, more than a hundred years old. The orchard is defunct, but the barn is in good shape."

"We ran a couple of pieces on the Orchard Incident," said Kip. "What's happening to the investigation? We have a morbid interest in the victim, you know. All the time VanBrook was principal here he was a thorn in everyone's side."

"That's a delicate way of putting it," said Moira with a smirk.

Kip explained, "My wife was president of the PTA during his reign of terror. Actually, though, he did great things for the school system. He was some kind of genius, but an odd duck."

Qwilleran agreed. "I'd like to write a biography of that guy, if I could unearth some of his secrets. The Mystery Man of Moose County, I'd call it."

"If you do, come down here and we'll tell you sometales that will make your blood boil."

At that moment the doorbell rang, and the couple who entered gave Qwilleran a mild shock. First to walk into the foyer was Fiona Stucker, who had played the role of Queen Katharine with such regal poise and forceful emotion. She was small; she was mousy; she extended a limp hand and smiled shyly. She had large eyes, but they were filled with anxiety. He remembered her eyes; with stage makeup they had been her most compelling feature.

Behind her was a man introduced as Steve O'Hare. Qwilleran took one look at him and thought, It's Redbeard! And he's still wearing the green plaid coat! So this was the "horsey friend" who had attached himself to Polly at the wedding festivities!

"Glad to meetcha," said the man with a hearty hand-grip.

It was too hearty, Qwilleran thought. He disliked him on sight. Nevertheless he said politely, "I hear you're involved in the 'chase tomorrow. What's your responsibility.

"I'm just a stable bum," Redbeard replied with a grin.