THE CAT WHO SANG FOR THE BIRDS

“Last night’s Pennant Race spell-off raised an estimated ten thousand dollars for the Moose County literacy effort, according to backers. Winners of the silver pennant were the Hams, a team sponsored by the Pickax Theatre Club. Along with four runner-up teams the Hams will compete in the World Series in September, facing champion spellers from Lockmaster.”

Qwilleran made note of the fact that WPKX referred j to “backers.” They never gave the Something credit for anything - at least, not since the controversy over radio listings in the paper. The next item gave him a chuckle:

“A truckload of sheep escaped on Main Street late yesterday afternoon when the transport vehicle stopped for a red light and the tailgate popped open. According a to a witness, one animal jumped out, and the rest followed - like sheep. Main Street traffic was rerouted for two hours while Pickax police and state troopers rounded up the flock. One animal is still at large. The driver of the truck was ticketed. Baaaaaaaaad trip!”

So that was the reason for the downtown detour! It had happened once before, only the last time it was pigs. Other newsbites mentioned a fire in a trailer home that resulted in one death… another single-car accident at the Bloody Creek bridge, in which the driver was killed … resumption of talks concerning a ring road for Pickax, routing heavy traffic north on Trevelyan and south on Sandpit Road. Qwilleran could picture Beverly Forfar’s reaction to eighteen-wheelers, tankers, and dump trucks roaring past the Art Center all day.

Promptly at nine o’clock he reported to the offices of Hasselrich Bennett & Barter. Bart was waiting for him with mugs of coffee and some sweet rolls. He knew his client.

“How was the trip?” Qwilleran asked.

“I covered all the bases, and they took me to some great restaurants. Fran Brodie had been there, presenting her design theme for the hotel renovation.” The hotel, as well as the Limburger mansion, had been purchased by the K Fund, and Amanda’s studio had the commission. “It appears that Fran made a big hit, professionally and personally. I’d venture to say we’re in danger of losing her.”

“I hope not.” Qwilleran smoothed his moustache. Fran, as daughter of the police chief, had occasionally leaked privileged information. “We need her talent in this town - in the theater club as well as the design business. If Amanda retires - “

“She’ll never retire.”

“But if Amanda should be struck by lightning, Fran would be the logical one to take over.”

“Does she have any personal attachment up here?” the attorney asked.

“She’s been seen frequently with Dr. Prelligate.”

“Not a bad duo,” Bart said. “What did you think of the show last night? I hear you raised ten thousand. The K Fund will match it, of course. My wife took the boys, and now they both want to be champion spellers instead of champion gymnasts. They change their life goals once a week… So what’s on your mind, Qwill? Your message was provocative, to say the least.”

“While you were away, I did some thinking. At first I thought there were grounds for a civil suit; now it looks like a criminal case… You remember the farmhouse fire that killed the ninety-three-year-old Maude Coggin. It was blamed on a kerosene heater. Well… earlier in the year she had sold her hundred acres to Northern Land Improvement - “

“Never heard of them.”

“They told her they were a Lockmaster company. The selling price was a thousand an acre, about one-sixth of the going rate, with the understanding that it would be used for agricultural purposes. Now four acres of that purchase have been sold to the City of Pickax for a cemetery - at six thousand an acre! Furthermore, the company is about to lease twelve acres to the county for a workyard, according to my sources. What’s your reaction ?”

“That it’s morally wrong to cheat such a woman, but it’s actually only a sharp business practice, with no laws broken. She agreed to sell. She was apparently satisfied with that bundle in the coffee can.”

“Be that as it may, this nosey journalist had to investigate the Lockmaster profiteers. I was curious about who they really were. And guess what! There’s no such company! The purchaser was one of our esteemed county commissioners, operating under an assumed name that was not registered in either county.”

“Which commissioner?”

“Ramsbottom.”

Bart wagged his head. “Might have guessed!”

“Okay, forget the profiteering. Let’s talk about the Coggin fire. There are four interesting points: the fire occurred very soon after the land changed hands; it looked like arson to a couple of experienced firefighters; the new fire chief failed to report the fatality to the state fire marshal as required by law; and… he happens to be Chet Ramsbottom’s brother-in-law.”

Calmly Bart said, “You know, of course, that there’s a certain amount of coincidence, hearsay, and guesswork in your story.”

“Wait a minute. There’s more. I have a letter from an informant indicating the farmhouse was torched.”