Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 12 Who Knew A Cardinal

Her husband said, "We'll leave about eleven and pick up Fiona, and that will give us time to fight the traffic and get in place for a tailgate picnic before post time, which is two o'clock."

"Kip mentioned betting. How does that work?"

"It's more fun if you have a few bucks on a horse, so we usually have a five- dollar pool going with the MacDiarmid crowd."

"Breakfast at eight-thirty," Vicki said. "What do you like?"

"Coffee and whatever. And now I think I'll amble upstairs and see if the cats have adjusted."

"Would they like a meatball? We have some left over."

Qwilleran followed her into the kitchen. "How long have you known Fiona?" he asked.

"Ever since junior high. My family used to include her in our picnics and vacation trips because she had no decent homelife of her own. It was the old story: absent father, alcoholic mother. I liked her. She was so eager and appreciative, and she had those heart- breaking eyes!"

"That's what I remember most about her portrayal of Katharine. What kind of life has she had since school-days?"

"Rough," Vicki said. "Her only dream was to have a home and family of her own, so she married right after high school. It was so ironic! Her husband deserted her right after Robin was born."

"How has she managed financially?"

"She does housekeeping. She helps me two days a week. With some kind of training she could do better, but she lacks confidence. If everything works out, I'd like to start a catering service with Fiona as assistant. We'd specialize in hunt breakfasts. They're all the rage in Lockmaster."

"What was her connection with VanBrook?"

Vicki shrugged mysteriously. "Better ask Fiona about that."

Qwilleran said good night to the Bushlands and started for the second floor. Halfway up the stairs he could hear exultant cries coming from the best guestroom. The Siamese knew he was approaching and bearing meatballs. They met him at the door, Koko prancing and Yum Yum snaking between his ankles. Putting the plate on the bathroom floor, he then gave the bedroom a quick inspection for evidence of mischief. Everything was in order except for shredded paper in the circular window bay, but it was only the copy of Stablechat; they frequently reacted to fresh ink.

After their treat, the two satisfied animals found their blue cushion on the chaise, where they washed up and settled down. Qwilleran read for a while before sinking into his own bed and reviewing his day. He had buried Dennis Hough, bought bubble pipes for the cats, discovered Polly's strange Lockmaster connection, and met a charming octagenarian. And tomorrow he might learn something about VanBrook from a woman who wanted to talk about him. He turned off the bedlamp, and in a few moments two warm bodies came stealing into the bed, nosing under the blanket, Yum Yum on his left and Koko on his right, snuggling closer and closer until he felt confined in a strait jacket.

"This is ridiculous!" he said aloud. jumping out of bed he transferred their blue cushion to the bathroom floor, placed them on it with a firm hand, and closed the door. Immediately the yowling and shrieking began, until he feared they would disturb Grummy on the third Boor and the Bushlands in the master bedroom below.

He opened the bathroom door, hopped back into bed and waited anxiously in the dark. For a while nothing happened. Then the first body landed lightly on the bed, followed by a second. He turned his back, and they snuggled down behind him. There they stayed for the night, peacefully sleeping, gradually pressing closer as he inched away. By morning he was clinging to the edge of the mattress, and the Siamese were sprawled crosswise over the whole bed.

"How did you guys sleep?" Bushy asked the next morning when the aroma of bacon lured the three of them to the kitchen.

"Fine," Qwilleran said. "Good bed! They didn't let me have much of it, but what I had was comfortable."

"How do you like your eggs?" Vicki asked.

"Over easy." He looked around the kitchen. "Do I smell coffee?"

"Help yourself, Qwill."

Nursing a cup of it he trailed after the Siamese as they explored the house, reveling in patches of tinted sunlight thrown on the carpet by the stained-glass windows. He himself checked the library, but there was no sign of City of Brotherly Crime.

By the time breakfast was ready, the two cats were chasing each other gleefully up and down the broad staircase. "They're making themselves right at home," he said to the photographer. "You shouldn't have any trouble getting pictures tomorrow."

"I have: a couple of poses in mind," Bushy said, "but mostly I'll let them find their own way. When I took Grummy's tray upstairs this morning, she said to remind you she's expecting them after breakfast."

When the time came for the visit, Vicki called upstairs on the intercom, and Qwilleran collected the Siamese, climbing the stairs to the third floor with one under each arm. Grummy greeted them graciously, wearing a long flowered housecoat and leaning on her two elegant canes.