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The Cat Who Went Bananas

EDITORIAL REVIEW: **A New York Times Bestseller** Murder and theft put a damper on the festivities for the residents of Pickax in the twenty-seventh Cat Who book, and Lilian Jackson Braun proves yet again that Qwill, Yum Yum, and Koko are the purrfect team to solve any mystery.

Lilian Jackson Braun

Детективы18+


THE CAT WHO WENT BANANAS

LILIAN JACKSON BRAUN, 2005

PROLOGUE

Break a leg, Fran, honey!'

'Break a leg, Alden!'

'Break a leg, Derek, old boy!'

It was opening night of the new play in Pickax City (400 miles north of everywhere), and the actors were receiving the traditional bonhomie from well-wishers. The theatre club was doing Oscar Wilde's comedy of absurd upper-class manners: The Importance of Being Earnest.

Fran Brodie, interior designer, was playing Gwendolen. The male lead was being done by Alden Wade, a new man in town. Larry Lanspeak, owner of the department store, was perfect as the butler. And the unbearably haughty Lady Bracknell was being portrayed by Derek Cuttlebrink. It was not unusual for the role to be played by a male actor in drag; the difference here was that Derek, maitre d' at an upscale restaurant, was six foot eight. Carol Lanspeak was directing. Jim Qwilleran would review the play.

Chapter 1

Jim Qwilleran was primarily a columnist for the Moose County Something, but he was more. Previously a crime reporter for major dailies across the continent, he had relocated in the north country when he inherited the vast Klingenschoen fortune. This he immediately turned over to a philanthropic foundation, claiming that he felt uncomfortable with too much money. The K Fund, as it was called, improved schools, medical facilities, and the general quality of life in Moose County, leaving Qwilleran free to mix with the people, listen to their stories write his column, and manage the care and feeding of ray, Siamese cats.

The three of them lived in a converted apple barn on the edge of Pickax City. It was there that Qwilleran was preparing dyer breakfast one day in September, arranging red salmon attractively on two plates with a garnish of crumbled Roquefort. (They were somewhat spoiled.) They sat on top of the bar in two identical bundles of fur, supervising the food preparation.

They were Koko and Yum Yum, well known to readers of the `Qwill Pen' column. The male was lithe, muscular, and cocky: the female smaller and softer and modest, although she could be demanding.

Both had the fawn fur, precise brown points, and blue eyes of the breed . . . as well as the Siamese tendency to voice an opinion on everything; Koko with a vehement 'Yow!' and Yum Yum with a soprano 'Now-ow!'

Just as Qwilleran was placing the two plates on the floor under the kitchen table, Koko's attention jerked away to a spot on the wall. A moment later the wall phone rang.

Before it could ring twice, Qwilleran said pleasantly into the mouthpiece, 'Good morning.'

`You're quick on the trigger, Qwill!' said the well-modulated voice of a woman he knew, Carol Lanspeak.

He explained, 'I have an electronic sensor here. He tells me when the phone is going to ring and even screens incoming calls as acceptable or otherwise. What's on your mind, Carol?'

`Just wanted to ask if you're going to write the programme notes for the new production.'

`Actually, I have another idea I'd like to discuss with you. Will you be in the store this morning?'

`All day! How about coffee and doughnuts at ten o'clock?' `Not today,' he said regretfully. 'I've just had my annual physical, and Dr Diane lectured me on my diet.'

The Lanspeaks were a fourth-generation family in Moose County, dating back to pioneer days. Larry's grandmother ran a general store, selling kerosene, calico, and penny candy. Larry's father started the department store on Main Street. Larry himself, having acting talent, went to New York and had a little success, but then he married an actress and they came back to Pickax to manage the family business and launch a theatre club. Larry's daughter was the medical doctor who advised Qwilleran to consume more broccoli, less coffee - and one banana a day.

After taking leave of the cats, Qwilleran walked downtown to Lanspeak's Department Store. From the barnyard an unpaved road led through a dense patch of woods to the Park Circle, where Main Street divided_ around a small park. On its rim were two churches, the courthouse, the public library, and a huge block of fieldstone that had once been the Klingenschoen mansion.

Now it was a theatre for stage productions, and the headquarters of the Pickax theatre club. Northward, Main Street was a stretch of stone buildings more than a century old - now housing stores, offices, and the newly refurbished Mackintosh Inn.

The Lanspeaks' department store, which had started a century before, advertised 'new-fashioned ideas with old-fashioned service'.

Arriving there, Qwilleran walked between glass cases of jewellery, scarves, handbags, cosmetics, and blouses - to the offices in the rear, bowing to the clerks who hailed him: 'Hi, Mr Q. How's Koko, Mr Q?'

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