The Cat Who Dropped a Bombshell

The joke was, of course, that Qwilleran was the richest individual in the northeast central United States. His freak inheritance of the vast Klingenschoen fortune, based in Moose County, had brought him to the north country, and his disinterest in money had caused him to turn it over to a philanthropic foundation. The K Fund, as it was chummily called around town, had been responsible for most - if not all - of the improvements being celebrated during Pickax Now.

Polly said, "The problem will be to focus on the stimulating present without neglecting the nobility of the past."

That said they all nodded thoughtfully and went indoors for one of Mildred's delicious dinners. She was, after all, the food editor of the Moose County Something.

Mildred served watercress consommé, pot roast with an exotic sauce, and small potatoes steamed in their skins.

Polly said, "There's nothing to equal the flavour of Moose County potatoes!"

"We all know why," said Arch. "A potato farmer was using them to make hard liquor during Prohibition, and the revenue agents caught him and poured it all on the ground. . . . Pass the potatoes, Millie."

She said, "Do you know why we have so many potato growers in Moose County? They came from Ireland during the Great Potato Famine in the nineteenth century. There was a blight on the crop, and a million Irish died of starvation, disease, or drowning when they tried to escape in leaky boats owned by unscrupulous profiteers. . . . Sorry! Once a schoolteacher, always a schoolteacher."

The other three talked at once, protesting that it was all very informative.

"And how is Cool Koko?" Mildred asked.

"He has a new hobby. After a lifetime of making carbon copies, I finally broke down and bought a photocopier - a desktop model. Koko is fascinated. He stares at it for hours waiting for it to light up or play music. If nothing happens, he extends a cautious paw and presses a button."

"Koko is so smart!" Mildred gushed.

"Or crazy," Qwilleran said.

Mildred said, "I hear there'll be several family reunions during the summer, and I thought I might run a series of features on the food preferences of each group - with recipes." She looked at Qwilleran speculatively. "Would the K Fund be interested in publishing a cookbook?"

"Absolutely! And I'll volunteer as official taster."

Polly reported that one of the staffers at the bookstore, a volunteer at the humane society, had proposed an auction of homeless cats rescued by the shelter.

Mildred clapped her hands in approval and said, "Wouldn't Qwill make a wonderful auctioneer?"

"Wipe that idea from your mind right here and now!" he growled.

But the two women exchanged nods and smiles, and Arch said with obvious glee, "Something tells me we haven't heard the last of this matter!"

"How's everything at The Pirate's Chest?" he asked Polly.

"Just fine! We have quite a number of book collectors in Pickax, and they think the name of the store alludes to shelves full of treasures."

"How nice!" Mildred said. "And how is the bibliocat doing?"

Polly said, "Many customers have never seen a marmalade before, and they swoon over his apricot-and-cream markings and emerald green eyes. That little cat charms everyone, but one day he hissed at a woman customer and bared his fangs. She was wearing too much cologne! She left in a huff without buying anything, and we had to turn on the ventilating system."

"How is Judd Amhurst doing as special-events manager, Polly?" Mildred asked.

"He may be a retired engineer from the Moose County Power Company, but what most people don't know is, he's been a lifelong bookworm, with an extensive library of his own. And his storytelling hour for young children is a big success. I think they like the grandfatherly look of his white hair."

Mildred said, "I know he's retired, but he seems too young to have such white hair."

Polly knew the answer. "It turned white overnight, following a horrendous experience on the job. He was captain of a crew of linemen working in the woods, looking for downed power lines during a major blackout. He narrowly escaped being killed by a falling tree. I think he took early retirement."

Arch said, "Those power outages always occur after a heavy rain. The ground is soaked, and shallow-rooted trees topple over like bowling pins. I wouldn't want a linesman's job."

Polly said, "He could write a book about his experiences - except that he's no writer."

"Qwill could ghostwrite it," Mildred said.

The other three looked at Qwilleran and he huffed into his moustache.

Mildred continued with her bubbling optimism, "I'm glad to say that Wetherby Goode has promised unusually good weather for our picnics and parades!"

The two veteran newsmen exchanged cynical glances.

After more conversation the amiable party broke up early.

Arch asked Qwilleran, "What's in your Tuesday column? Anything fit to print?"

Qwilleran said, "I don't give insider information. You'll have to wait and buy a paper."

Chapter 2