Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 18 Who Said Cheese

Qwilleran said, "Dolman is obviously an Americanization of Dolmathakia and not the name of her ex-husband. All we know about him is that he might be a fan of the Detroit Tigers, judging by the description of his cap."

"There's gotta be a local connection. How would he know she was here? Who drove the getaway vehicle? Did the same blue truck pick him up at the airport?"

"Well, the ball's in your court, Andy. I have unfinished business at home. Give me Onoosh's letter."

"I'll keep the original," the chief said. "You can have a copy."

Qwilleran went home and counted whiskers. He counted Koko's first and then Yum Yum's. It was just as he had surmised. He telephoned Polly immediately.

At the sound of his voice, Polly was convulsed with merriment. She said, "Lo Phat and Lo Psalt have just arrived, and I laughed so hard I almost ruptured my thoracic incision! When I saw the gift box, I thought it was a bomb, but it came from Amanda's, so I felt safe in opening it. I'm going to hang them in my kitchen. Qwill, you're so clever!"

"Yes, I know," he said tartly. "I should get a job in advertising."

"You sound rushed. Is something on your mind?"

"I want you to count Bootsie's whiskers and call me back," he said. "Include the eyebrows."

"Is this another joke?"

"Not at all. It's a scientific study. I plan to introduce it in the 'Qwill Pen' after the Food Explo. Cats allover the county will be having their whiskers counted."

"I still think you're being facetious," she said, "but I'll do it and call you back."

In a few minutes she phoned. "Bootsie has twenty-four on each side. Is that good or bad? Some are long and bold; others are shorter and quite fine."

"That means he's normal," Qwilleran said. "Yum Yum has twenty-four also. Koko has thirty!"

11

The Great Food Explo was about to blast off, with Mildred Riker's cooking class lighting the fuse:

Wednesday evening: First in a series of cooking classes for men only, sponsored by the Moose County Something.

Thursday: Introduction of the Something's weekly food page, featuring a Food Forum for readers.

Friday noon: Official opening of Stables Row with ribbon-cutting, band music, and balloons.

Friday evening: Open-house hospitality on Main Street, with all stores remaining open until 9:00 P.M. and offering refreshments and entertainment... to be followed by fireworks and a street dance in front of Stables Row.

Saturday: Food Fair and Pasty Bake-off at the county fairgrounds, sponsored by the Pickax Chamber of Commerce.

Saturday evening: Celebrity Auction sponsored by the Boosters Club to benefit the community Christmas fund.

Sunday: Wheels for Meals bike-a-thon staged by the Pedal Club to benefit the home-bound.

Qwilleran was involved in many of the week's activities, not entirely by choice. Reluctantly he had consented to cover the opening session of the cooking class. Without much enthusiasm he would join Mildred Riker and the chef of the Old Stone Mill in judging the Pasty Bake-off. With serious misgivings he would go on the auction block as a potential dinner date for who-knows-whom. In addition, he was committed to writing the "Qwill Pen" with a food slant for the duration of Explo.

Qwilleran's life seldom proceeded according to plan, however. On Wednesday he went to Lois's for lunch. Her Wednesday luncheon special was always turkey, and he always took home a doggie bag. Lois's Luncheonette was on Pine Street not far from Stables Row. and as he approached he saw a crowd gathered on the sidewalk - not a friendly crowd. He quickened his step.

Milling about, waving arms and expounding vehemently, were men in work clothes and business suits. A few women office workers and shoppers wore anxious expressions and raised shrill voices.

Qwilleran asked loudly, "What goes on here? What's happened?" No one answered, but there was a general hubbub of indignation and complaint. Then he saw the hastily crayoned sign in the window: CLOSED FOR GOOD. The protesters were yelling:

"Where'll we get ham and eggs? There's no place for, breakfast!"

"Where'll we get lunch?"

"There's the new soup kitchen, but who wants soup every day?"

"There's the new pasty place, but I get pasties home."

"Who'll have apple pie that's any good?"

Qwilleran asked some of the quieter protesters, "Why did she close? Does anyone know?"

"Could be she's afraid of the new competition," a City Hall clerk suggested.

"If you ask me," said a salesman from the men's store, "she's tee'd off because Stables Row got all slicked up by the K Fund. If she wanted to fix up her place, her customers had to pitch in and do it."

An elderly man said, "Some people in town want her to quit so they can get the building and tear it down."