Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 12 Who Knew A Cardinal

There was still a half hour before post time. The high school band was blasting away, with drums and trumpets almost drowned out by the hubbub of the race crowd, all of whom were wildly excited. They were circulating, greeting friends, showing off their festive garb, sharing food and drink, shouting, laughing, screaming. Qwilleran observed them in amazement; they were getting a high-voltage charge from the occasion that totally escaped him.

"Would you like to stroll around?" he asked Fiona, who had been quiet and introspective.

She responded eagerly, and as they circled the rim of the bowl she ventured to say, "It's quite a sight!" Long folding tables were laid with fringed cloths, floral centerpieces, champagne buckets, and whole turkeys on silver platters.

"I'm sorry I didn't meet you during the run of the play," he said, "but you always disappeared right after the curtain."

"I had a long drive home," she explained, "and then... ummm... I have to keep an eye on Robbie." "Altogether, with rehearsals and performances, you had to do a lot of driving. I hope VanBrook appreciated that."

"Oh, yes," she said. "He sent me money out of his own pocket to pay for my gas."

Qwilleran huffed silently into his moustache. "Very thoughtful of him. How did you two meet? In the theatre?"

"Oh, no! I was.... uh... working in a restaurant... and this man used to come in to eat all the time. He was... well, not very good-looking, and the other waitresses made fun of him. I liked him, though. He was, you know, different. Then one day he asked me - right out of nowhere - if I'd like a job. He needed a live-in housekeeper. Robbie was eight then, and we both went to live with him. It was, well, like a gift from heaven!" As Fiona talked, the wonder of it overcame her shyness.

"Was he hard to get along with?" Qwilleran asked. "People in Pickax found him rather crotchety."

"Well, he was strange in some ways, but I got used to it. He kept saying I should educate myself, and he gave me books to read. They weren't... uh... very interesting."

"How did you get involved in Henry VIII?"

"Well, he was going to do the play - here in Lockmaster, you know - and he said he wanted me to be in it. I almost fell over! I'd never been in a play. He said he'd coach me. I was good at memorizing, and I just did everything the way he told me to."

"Would you like to be in another play?"

"Ummm... it would be nice, but I couldn't do it without him."

"How did he and Robin get along?" Qwilleran asked.

"He treated Robbie like a son - always getting after him to study and get better grades. After he moved to Pickax, he came down to see us once a month. He was always offering to put Robbie through college if he'd study Japanese! He said the future belongs to people who know Japanese." Fiona uttered a whimsical little laugh. "Robbie thought he was crazy. So did I."

The high school band stopped playing, and Qwilleran's watch told him it was almost post time. "We'll talk some more at the party tonight," he promised. They hurried back to G-12 and arrived just as Kip MacDiarmid was passing a hat.

"Five dollars, please, if you want to get in the pool," he said.

Qwilleran drew Number Five, a four- year-old chestnut gelding named Quantum Leap, according to the program. Following an announcement from the tower, the band played the national anthem. There was a fanfare of trumpets, and a mounted colorguard came around the bend in the course, followed by Hunt Club officials on horseback. The field for the first race was in the paddock, with the riders in their colorful silks. Number Five wore blue and white. Then the officials led the racers to the starting line, and before Qwilleran could focus his binoculars, they were off and taking the first hurdle.

They disappeared around the bend and behind the trees.

In a moment, they came around again. The crowd was cheering. Qwilleran couldn't even find Quantum Leap. Horses and riders disappeared again and reappeared at the far end of the course, and in a few moments it was all over. Number Five had finished sixth, and one of Kip's guests won the fifty-dollar kitty. Qwilleran felt cheated - not because of losing but because it had all happened so fast.

Vicki said, "You're supposed to cheer your horse on, Qwill. No wonder he came in sixth!"

By nature Qwilleran was not demonstrative, and the fleeting glimpses of his horse in the next three races failed to arouse him to any vocal enthusiasm. He could wax more excited about a ballgame, and even in the ballpark he seldom shouted.

Fiona won the pool in the second race, and everyone was pleased. In the third race, Qwilleran's horse went down on the fourth hurdle, according to an announcement from the tower, and immediately the veterinary wagon and one of the ambulances started for the backstretch.

One of the MacDiarmid youngsters soon came racing back to the camper. "Hey, Dad, they had to shoot the horse!" he shouted.

"How about the rider?"