Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 15 Who Went Into the Closet

WHILE WAITING FOR his Wednesday afternoon appointment with Mr. Hasselrich, Qwilleran tuned in the WPKX weather report several times, hoping for an update -hoping to hear that dire atmospheric developments in the Yukon Territory or Hudson Bay would close in on Moose County, depositing eighteen inches of snow and closing the schools. No such luck! The meteorologist, who called himself Wetherby Goode, had a hearty, jovial manner that could make floods and tornadoes sound like fun, and on this occasion he was actually singing:

"Blow, blow, blow the leaves/ Gently in the street./ Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,/ Fall is such a treat!... Yes, folks, the mayor - who is running for re-election - has promised leaf pickup before Halloween. The vacuum truck will be operating east of Main Street on Friday and west of Main Street on Saturday. So lock up your cats and small dogs, folks!"

By the time Qwilleran walked downtown to the office of Hasselrich Bennett & Barter, the whine of leaf blowers paralyzed the eardrums like a hundred-piece symphony orchestra playing only one chord.

At the law office he sipped coffee politely from Mr. Hasselrich's heirloom porcelain cups, inquired politely about Mrs. H's health, and listened politely to the elderly attorney's discourse on the forthcoming snow - all this before getting down to business. When Qwilleran finally stated his case, Mr. Hasselrich reacted favorably. As chief counsel for the Klingenschoen Foundation, he had become accustomed to unusual proposals from the Klingenschoen heir, and although he seldom tried to dissuade Qwilleran, his fleshy eyelids frequently flickered and his sagging jowls quivered. Today the august head nodded without a flicker or a quiver.

"I believe it can be accomplished without arousing suspicion," he said.

"With complete anonymity, of course," Qwilleran specified.

"Of course. And with all deliberate haste." Qwilleran walked home with a long stride. That evening, when he took Polly Duncan out to dinner, she asked casually, "What did you do today?"

"Walked downtown... Made a few phone calls... Ran through my script... Brushed the cats." He avoided mentioning his meeting with Hasselrich.

They were dining at Tipsy's, a log cabin restaurant in North Kennebeck, Polly with her glass of sherry and Qwilleran with his glass of Squunk water. "Guess what's happening on Christmas Eve!" he said. "Arch and Mildred are tying the knot."

"I'm so happy for them," she said fervently, and Qwilleran detected a note of relief. He had always suspected that she considered Mildred a potential rival.

"Arch suggested we might make it a double wedding," he said with a sly sideways glance.

"I hope you disabused him of that notion, dear."

He gave their order: "Broiled whitefish for the lady, and I'll have the king-size steak, medium rare." Then he remarked, "Did you read the obituary in today's paper?"

"Yes. I wonder where they found those interesting pictures."

"Did you know Mrs. Gage very well?"

"I believe no one knew her very well," said Polly. "She served on my library board for a few years, but she was rather aloof. The other members considered her a snob. At other times she could be quite gracious. She always wore hats with wide brims - never tilted, always perfectly level. Some women found that intimidating."

Qwilleran said, "I detect a lingering floral perfume in one of the upstairs bedrooms at the house."

"It's violet. She always wore the same scent - to the extent that no one else in town would dare to wear it. I don't want to sound petty. After all, she was good enough to rent the carriage house to me when I was desperate for a place to live."

"That was no big deal," Qwilleran said. "No doubt she wanted someone around to watch the main house while she was in Florida."

"You're always so cynical, Qwill."

"Were you surprised that she'd take her own life?"

Polly considered the question at length before replying. "No. She was completely unpredictable. What was your impression when you interviewed her, Qwill?"

"She came on strong as a charming and witty little woman, full of vitality, but that may have been an act for the benefit of the press."

"What happens now?"

"Junior is in Florida, winding up her affairs and trying to get home before snow flies."

"I hope the weather is good for the trick-or-treaters. Are you all ready for Halloween?"

"Ready? What am I supposed to do?"

"Turn on your porch light and have plenty of treats to hand out. Something wholesome, like apples, would be the sensible thing to give, but they prefer candy or money. They used to be grateful for a few pennies, but now they expect quarters."

"Quarters! Greedy brats! How many kids come around?"

"Only a few from the boulevard, but carloads come from other neighborhoods. You should prepare for at least a hundred."