Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 15 Who Went Into the Closet

"Thought-provoking, to say the least," Qwilleran replied.

"Want to hear something interesting? The attorney is questioning Grandma's will! He's talking about mental instability and undue influence."

"Does he plan to sue?"

"I don't know yet. It'll depend on the value of the estate, but it's a distinct possibility. She must have been worth millions around the time she liquidated everything."

On the way home Qwilleran and Polly were silent, for their own reasons. When she invited him to her apartment for dessert and coffee, he declined, saying he had work to do. It was the first time he had ever turned down such an invitation, and she regarded him with mild anxiety. She may have guessed he was about to call another woman.

-11-

WHEN QWILLERAN RETURNED from Euphonia's memorial extravaganza, he found the Siamese on the library sofa, curled into a round pillow of fur. One raised a sleepy head; the other twitched an ear irritably. "Excuse me for disturbing you," he said as he turned on the desk lamp. "I need to make a phone call."

They exchanged a few perfunctory licks, disengaged their entwined extremities, struggled to their feet, yawned widely, and stretched vertically and horizontally before leaving the room with purposeful step. He knew where they were going: to the kitchen to lap a tongueful of water and gaze hopefully at their empty plate.

He gave them a few crunchy morsels and prepared coffee for himself before placing his call to Florida. When a woman's voice answered, he said, "This is Dr. Clayton Robinson calling from Johns Hopkins." He changed his voice to sound like a thirteen-year-old changing his voice to sound like an M.D.

"Clayton!" she cried. "Does your mother know you're calling long distance? Hang up before you get in trouble!"

"April Fool!" he said hastily. "This is Jim Qwilleran phoning from Pickax. I hope I'm not calling you too late."

"Oh, what a reliefl" said Clayton's grandmother, laughing at her gullibility. "No, it's not too late for me. The rest of the park thinks nine o'clock is midnight, but I stay up till all hours, reading and eating chocolate-covered cherries."

"What do you read?"

"Mostly crime and undercover stuff. I buy second-hand paperbacks at half price and then send them to Clayton. We like the same kind of books pretty much, although I could never get interested in science fiction."

"How's the weather down there?"

"Lovely! Have you had snow yet?"

"No, but they say the Big One is on the way. I want to thank you, Celia, for sending the snapshots. I took them to Mrs. Gage's memorial program tonight, and her friends remarked how well she looked. Shall I send you a copy of the program?"

"Oh, yes, please! And would it be too much trouble to send one for Mr. Crocus?"

"Not at all. Perhaps he'd also like one of her books as a keepsake. There's one here on correct breathing."

"He'd be overjoyed! That's very kind of you. He misses her a lot. I think there was something cooking between those two."

"Is Mr. Crocus the man with a magnificent head of white hair?"

"That's him. He plays the violin."

"You have some interesting-looking people in the park. Who's the couple standing with Mrs. Gage in front of a gigantic flowering shrub? They're wearing Pink Sunset T-shirts."

"They're new in the park - from Minnesota, I think. The bush is a hibiscus. Beautiful, isn't it? I never saw one so large."

"And who's the attractive woman at the wheel of the yellow convertible?"

"That's Betty, our manager. Isn't she glamorous? She sells cosmetics on the side. They're too expensive for me, but Mrs. Gage bought the works, and she really did look terrific."

Qwilleran said, "The car looks like the one she bought in Pickax before she left."

"That's right. She sold it to Betty-or maybe gave it to her. They were very chummy, like mother and daughter."

"Yow!" said Koko, who had ambled back into the library.

"I hear your cat."

"I like the picture of you in Mickey Mouse ears, Celia. Not everyone can wear them with so much panache."

She responded with a trill of pleasure. "I don't know what that means exactly, but it sounds good."

Qwilleran said, "I'm looking at a shot of your activity bus with the pink sunset painted on the side.

"There's a middle-aged man with his arm around Mrs. Gage, and they're both looking unusually happy."

"That's Claude, the owner of the park. He was very fond of her. He feels terrible about what she did. Everybody does."

"The Sunsetters impress me as one big happy family," he observed.

"Oh, sure. As long as you don't break the rules, everything's hunky-dory, but don't put pink plastic flamingoes on your lawn or all heck will break loose!"

"This Claude and Betty - are they the ones who used to take Mrs. Gage to the dog track?"

"Yes. She wanted me to drive her there, but the crowds are humongous, you know, and not only that but I don't believe in gambling. I couldn't afford to take chances, for one thing. And then it hurts me to see those beautiful dogs being used that way. I've heard that they're killed after racing a few years."