Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 12 Who Knew A Cardinal

Under the table Compton yelled, "For God's sake, let's get out of here!" The three of them crawled backstage on hands and knees and escaped out the back door. For a moment they stood and looked at each other as they caught their breath.

Mildred was the first to speak. "I move that we go back to Tipsy's for a drink."

"I second the motion," said her boss.

"Too bad there's no TV coverage in Moose County," Qwilleran observed. "The crews would have a field day with this one. It has everything: kids, cats, old folks, even blood!"

Main Street was choked with police cars and emergency vehicles, their red and blue lights flashing, as sheriff's deputies and state police tried to control the mob. Ambulances were standing by, and fire trucks were primed for action. The only prudent way for the judges to reach the restaurant was to circle the block and enter through the kitchen door.

In the relative quiet of Tipsy's bar they collapsed into chairs. They saw no more of Hixie that evening, and as soon as it was deemed safe, they were glad to leave.

Qwilleran pulled Lyle Compton aside. "What else were you going to tell me about VanBrook? You said there was more to the story."

"It hasn't been officially announced," the superintendent said in confidential tones, "and haven't even told the school board yet, but his attorney notified me today that VanBrook left his entire estate to the Pickax school system. I believe we've earned it, to be perfectly frank."

Qwilleran heard the news with skepticism. "What's the catch? Do you have to rename it VanBrook High School?"

"Nothing like that, although we might name the library after him. His book collection is supposed to number ninety thousand volumes."

Later that evening Qwilleran made a call to Susan Exbridge. "What time tomorrow are we unpacking books?"

"How about nine o'clock? It's a big job - and probably a dirty Job. Wear old clothes," she advised.

"Would you object if I brought Koko along? He has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out rare books."

"Darling... do whatever makes you happy."

Qwilleran was exhilarated, the VanBrook revelation having canceled out the Tipsy fiasco. He said to the Siamese, "How would you guys like a little sport? Something new!" He produced a bubble pipe and whipped up a bowl of suds in the kitchen, watched by two bemused cats who were baffled by a bowl of anything that was inedible and unpotable.

"You stay down here," he said as he carried the equipment to the first balcony. They followed him up the ramp.

He dipped the pipe in the suds and put it to his lips, making one mistake. His pipe-smoking days had accustomed him to drawing on a pipe; bubble blowing was different. He spat it out and tried again. This time he produced one beautiful bubble - iridescent in the barn's galaxy of uplights and down lights - until it burst in his face. He tried again, gradually mastering the technique.

"Okay. Go downstairs," he commanded the cats, adding a tap on the rump. "Down! Down!" They wanted to go up! It was past their bedtime. They stayed on the balcony.

To tantalize them he blew a series of bubbles and bubble clusters and bubbles within bubbles, wafting them into space, watching them float lazily in the air currents until they spontaneously disappeared. The Siamese were unimpressed. They watched this absurd specimen of homo sapiens blowing a pipe, waving his arm, and peering over the railing. Bored, they ambled up the ramp to their loft.

"Cats-s-s!" Qwilleran hissed.

-13-

Thursday, September 22, would be one of the most memorable days in Qwilleran's four-year residency in Pickax. It started routinely enough. He fed the cats, thawed a roll for his own breakfast, and harnessed Koko for the trip to Goodwinter Boulevard. He also buckled up Yum Yum for the sake of practice, hoping she might eventually accept the idea. This time, instead of falling over, she stood in the awkward crazy-leg posture that resulted from the buckling process. Koko, on the other hand, strutted on his slender brown legs, dragging his leash, eager for action. For two minutes and seven seconds, according to Qwilleran's watch, Yum Yum remained in her unlovely pose as if cast in stone, with an air of martyrdom, until he removed the harness. Then she walked away with the exasperatingly graceful step of a female Siamese who has succeeded in making her point.

Moments later, Susan Exbridge arrived in her wagon, and Qwilleran placed Koko's carrier on the backseat. As they set out for VanBrook's house he asked, "Have you had a chance to spend any time at Hilary's place?"

"A couple of mornings," she said. "I have to keep my shop open in the afternoon, you know. But I'm getting an overview of his collection, and in the evening I check my art books. It's really fascinating!"

"Have you found anything valuable?"