Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 15 Who Went Into the Closet

"Here's the question," said Qwilleran. "Is Lethe still alive? Or is she the 'dead princess' in Euphonia's memorial program? If she's still around, wouldn't she have come forward for a slice of the inheritance?"

"She might be living somewhere else. She might not know Grandma's dead."

"Could be." Qwilleran thought of the foreign postcards and envelopes with foreign stamps that Koko had dragged out of the closet. "In any case, you should notify the attorney."

-17-

AS CHRISTMAS APPROACHED, Qwilleran accepted invitations to holiday parties, but his mind was on Operation Greenback, and he made it a point to be home between five and six o'clock, the hour when Celia might call with another report. Increasing tremors in the roots of his moustache told him he was on the right track.

One evening at five-fifteen the telephone rang, and a hollow voice said, "This is Celia, Mr. Qwilleran."

"You sound different," he said.

"I'm calling from a different mall on the other side of town, and the phones are more private. I had a scare the last time I talked to you."

"What kind of scare?"

"Well, after I hung up, I saw Betty and Claude watching me. They were waiting in line outside a restaurant. I didn't know what to do. Should I make up some kind of explanation? Then I thought, What would Clayton do? He'd play it cool. So I walked over to them and said hello, and they invited me to have dinner with them, but I'd eaten already. Whew! I was worried for a while."

"You handled it very well," Qwilleran said. "Do you have anything to report on your last assignment?"

"Only that the furniture dealer down here will give me $100,000 for the things on the list you sent me, plus $50,000 for everything else in the house. Boy! What I could do with that much money! I'm beginning to wish I'd had a rich sister."

Qwilleran made no comment. The same list of antique furnishings had been appraised by Susan Exbridge at $900,000. He said, "Good job, Celia! That's the kind of information we need."

"Thank you, chief. Do you have another assignment for me?"

"Phase Four of Operation Greenback will be mailed tomorrow."

In mailing the briefing he included a Christmas bonus with instructions to buy something exciting for herself.

MISSION: Operation Greenback, Phase Four

ASSIGNMENT: Buy an expensive Christmas plant for

the manager's office... Tell them you'll have a surplus

of cash when you sell your sister's possessions; ask if

they can recommend a safe investment... Inquire if it's

possible to place bets on the dog races without going to

the track, since you don't like crowds.

Although Qwilleran made generous Christmas gifts and ate more than his share of Christmas cookies, there was not a shred of holiday decoration in his cavernous, sparsely furnished living quarters.

"How can you stand this gloomy place?" Polly asked him.

One evening, on her way home from the library, she delivered a green wreath studded with holly berries and tiny white lights. "For your library," she said. "Just hang it up and plug it in."

The pinpoints of light only emphasized the somber effect of dark paneling, old books, and worn furniture, as they sat on the sofa sipping hot cider. The Siamese, sniffing Bootsie in absentia, applied wet noses to Polly's person, here and there.

"Out!" Qwilleran scolded, pointing to the door.

"They don't bother me," Polly protested.

"I expect them to have some manners to match their aristocratic facade... Out!"

They left the room but not immediately. First they thought about it, then scratched an ear and licked a paw, then thought about it some more, then sauntered out.

"Cats!" Qwilleran said, and Polly smiled with amusement.

They discussed cat-sitting arrangements for the Christmas weekend. Polly wanted to pick up a key for her sister-in-law. "Lynette lives only a block away, so she's happy to come twice a day. She loves cats and considers it a privilege."

Soon Koko returned, carrying in his jaws a small square paper packet, which he dropped at Qwilleran's feet.

Picking it up, Qwilleran read the label: "Dissolve contents of envelope in three pints of water and soak feet for fifteen minutes... Foot powder! Where did he find that?"

Polly, ordinarily given to small smiles, was overcome with mirth. "Perhaps he's telling you something, dear."

"This isn't funny! It could be poisonous! He could tear the paper and sprinkle the powder on the floor, then walk in it and lick his paws!" He dropped the packet in a desk drawer.