Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 15 Who Went Into the Closet

"Have you heard anything more about her father's murder?"

"Only that the state detectives are sure it wasn't a local vendetta. They think he was involved in something outside the county. The cause of death," he said, "was a gunshot to the head."

When they reached Goodwinter Boulevard, Nick parked in the street. "Let's not mess up any tire tracks in the driveway... The power's still out in Pickax, they said on the air, so take the flashlight that's under the seat. I've got a high-powered lantern in the trunk."

They walked to the side door under the porte cochere, where wind currents had swept the drive clear in one spot and piled up the snow in another.

Qwilleran said, "The tire tracks leading to the carriage house are Lynette's. They were made this morning after the blizzard. She saw the van in the rear last evening before the blizzard. If they broke into the house, it would be through the kitchen door." He was speaking in a controlled monotone that belied the anxiety he felt in the pit of his stomach.

"The van has been back again since last night," Nick said. "I'd guess it was here during the blizzard and left before the snow stopped."

Qwilleran unlocked the side door and automatically reached for a wall switch, but power had not been restored. The foyer with its dark paneling and dark parquet floor was like a cave except for one shaft of light slanting in from a circular window on the stair landing, and in the patch of warmth was a Siamese cat, huddled against the chill but otherwise unperturbed.

'"Koko! My God! Where were you?" Qwilleran shouted. "Where's Yum Yum?"

"There she is!" said Nick, beaming the big lantern down the hall. She was in a hunched position with rump elevated and head low - her mousing stance - and she was watching the door of the elevator.

At the same time there was pounding in the walls and a distant cry of distress.

The two men looked at each other in a moment's perplexity.

"Someone's trapped in the elevator!" Qwilleran said in amazement.

Nick peered through the small pane of glass in the elevator door. "It's stuck between here and the basement."

There was more pounding and hysterical yelling, and Qwilleran rushed to the lower level. "Call the police!" he shouted up to Nick. "The phone's in the Iibrary!"

The beam of his flashlight exposed a ravaged ballroom. Electrical wires were hanging from the ceiling and protruding from the walls, and canvas murals, peeled from their backgrounds, were lying in rolls on the floor.

-19-

THE THWARTED BURGLARY on Goodwinter Boulevard was the subject of a news bulletin on WPKX Sunday afternoon. It was a newscaster's dream: breaking and entering, vandalism, attempted theft, and four big names: the Gage mansion owned by Junior Goodwinter and occupied by James Qwilleran, the Klingenschoen heir.

After the broadcast, Junior was the first to call. "Hey, Qwill! Is there a lot of damage?"

"The ballroom's a wreck, but they didn't get around to anything on the main floor, thanks to the blackout. The light fixtures are still on the elevator. The murals are rolled up on the ballroom floor; I hope they can be salvaged."

"I'd better buzz over and take a look. Is the power back on?"

"It was restored while the police were here. I'll plug in the coffeemaker."

Minutes later, when Junior viewed the dangling wires and stripped walls, he said, "I can't believe this!

Who did it? He wasn't named on the air, and our reporter couldn't get anything at police headquarters. The suspect won't be charged until tomorrow."

"Suspect! That's a laugh! He was caught red-handed when the cops arrived - trapped in the elevator with his loot. Brodie himself was here... Come into the kitchen." Qwilleran poured coffee and said, "It's my guess that he's the dealer who phoned you and wanted to buy the stuff. He's from Milwaukee."

Junior unwrapped a few slices of fruitcake. "What made him think he could help himself?"

"It wasn't his own idea - or so he swears. He had a partner, an electrician, who decamped with the van when the power failed. It was the dealer's van, and he was madder'n hell! He was glad to name his accomplice, thinking the guy had thrown a circuit breaker in order to steal the vehicle. He didn't know it was a general blackout."

"How do you know all this?"

"I talked to Brodie afterward. The state police are tracking the van. And listen, Junior: Anything I tell you is off the record. If you jump the gun and I lose my credibility with Andy, your name isn't Junior anymore; it's something else."

"Agreed," said the editor.

"That isn't good enough."

"Scout's honor!... So if the neighborhood hadn't blacked out, the rats would have gotten away with it. That's some coincidence!"

"And if I hadn't come home when I did," Qwilleran said, "the suspect, as he is charitably called, wouldn't be in jail"

"What brought you home, Qwill? I thought you were staying till Monday. And how did you get off the Point? The highway's still blocked."