Shirley Murphy - Cat in the Dark

The Sleuders' host was not Winthrop Jergen.

Dora and Ralph's dinner companion, gently ushering them in behind the maitre d', was Bernine Sage, her red hair wound high with bands of gold, her orange-and-pink flowered suit summery and cool-making Dora and Ralph look so shabby that Dulcie felt embarrassed for them.

Dora had chosen a black dress, possibly to make herself appear thinner, but the black was rusty and faded, as if she had owned the dress for a very long time, and her black stockings were of the extra-support, elasticized variety. Ralph was dressed in a gray pinstripe suit with amazingly wide lapels, a shirt that should have been put through a tub of bleach, and a broad necktie with black-and-white dominoes printed across it. His socks were pale blue.

As the three were seated, the cats flashed across open space and beneath the table nearest to their cart. Slipping behind a potted tree to the next table, winding between silk-clad ankles and satin pumps and polished Bailey loafers, they were careful to avoid physical contact with the clientele, not to brush against someone's ankle and elicit startled screams and have waiters on them as thick as summer fleas.

Moving warily, their progress alternating between swift blurs and slinky paw-work, they gained the end of the terrace and slipped under the Sleuders' table, crouching beside Bernine's pink high heels and nude stockings, Dulcie tucking her tail under so not to tickle those slim ankles.

Dora's black shoes were a size too small. Her skin pooched over and her thick stockings wrinkled. Ralph was wearing, over his baby blue socks, black penny loafers with dimes in the slots. The threesome was seated so that the Sleuders could enjoy the view out over the village rooftops. Bernine's vantage commanded the terrace tables and their occupants; she could watch the room while seeming to give the preferred seating to her guests. Their conversation was hesitant, almost shy. Above the cats, a menu rattled. Dora shifted in her chair, rearranging her feet so Joe had to back away. She asked Bernine about Molena Point's weather in the winter, and Ralph inquired about the offshore fishing. The cats were starting to doze when a waiter came to take the drink orders. Dora ordered something called a white moose, Ralph liked his Jack Daniel's straight with no chaser, and Bernine favored a Perrier.

When the waiter had gone, Bernine said, "How is Mavity feeling-is she all right? She's working so hard. I worry about her. House cleaning is terribly heavy work for a woman of her years."

Dora's voice bristled. "Mavity has always worked hard."

"I know Charlie is short-handed," Bernine confided, "but Mavity isn't so young anymore."

"Hard work is the way she and Daddy grew up; they thrive on it. Both of them worked in the family grocery since they were in grammar school. It was right there on Valley Road when this part of Molena Point was mostly little farms," Dora told her. "Mavity and Daddy wouldn't know what to do without hard work. Daddy was the same on the farm, always working."

"Well, I suppose she does want the work just now, since she's investing every penny. She's so excited about increasing her savings."

There was a pause as their drinks arrived, the waiter's hard black shoes moving around the table, the sound of ice tinkling, the sharp scent of alcohol tickling the cats' noses. "But I do wonder," Bernine said, "about these investments of hers. Mavity is thrilled with the money, but this Winthrop Jergen…" Another long pause. Dora began to wiggle her left toe. Ralph's feet became very still. Bernine said tentatively, "I wonder sometimes if Mr. Jergen is-quite to be trusted."

No one responded. Under the table, Ralph tapped his foot softly. Dora shifted position, pressed one foot tightly against the other.

Bernine said, "The kind of money Mavity's making seems- well, nearly too good to be true.

"Though I don't see how Mr. Jergen could cheat her," she hastened. "After all, she must get a regular monthly statement. And she told me herself, she drew two hundred dollars from her profits just last week to do a few things to the house, buy some new dishes."

Dora made a strange little sound. "Oh, the dishes are lovely. Real Franciscan pottery, just like Mama had. Well, she didn't have to do that, just because we were coming. Didn't have to do anything for us."

"She wanted to," Bernine said. "And I guess she can afford it, all right. I'd love to invest with Mr. Jergen, but I-I don't know. Investments make me so nervous."

"Investing with that Je…" Ralph began. Under the table, Dora kicked him.

"Still," Bernine went on smoothly, "if Mavity can make that kind of money… Well, maybe I would like to try."

Ralph cleared his throat. "I-I wouldn't do that." Dora kicked him again, barely missing Joe, and the cats backed away against the terrace wall. There was another pause, as if Bernine might have looked at Ralph with surprise.

"Do-do you have any-special reluctance?" she asked. "I know so very little about investments."

Dulcie cut her eyes at Joe, amused. This was hugely entertaining. Whatever Bernine was playing at, she must seem, to Dora and Ralph, the height of sophistication-it must be a heady experience for Ralph to find Bernine Sage asking his advice.

Ralph leaned closer to Bernine's chair. "I would be careful about investing with Jergen." And Dora's heel pressed hard against his ankle.

"Oh?" Bernine said softly. "You're not telling me there's something wrong?"

The waiter approached and they heard the tinkle of fresh drinks. There was a long interval concerned with ordering, with crab mornay, with a salad of baby lettuces, cuts of rare fillet, and a broiled lobster-a discussion that left the cats sniffing around under the table for any leftovers from previous diners.

"I can't believe…" Bernine began when the waiter had gone, "I can't dream that Mavity's Mr. Jergen… Are you saying that Mr. Jergen…?" She paused delicately, her hand beneath the table seeming to accidentally brush Ralph's hand. The cats watched, fascinated, as Ralph tentatively stroked Bernine's fingers. Dulcie could picture Bernine giving him a steamy gaze from beneath her mascara-heavy lashes.

Ralph cleared his throat and shifted his hand guiltily as if he thought Dora might have noticed his preoccupation. "I would not invest with Mr. Jergen," he said bluntly.

"Ralph…" Dora said.

"We-Dora and I-we are very worried about Mavity."

"But she's made such wonderful money," Bernine said. "She told me her profits have been…"

Dora sighed, pressing one toe against the other as if to relieve her tension. "I don't think we should be talking about this, Ralph. After all, we…"

"Dora, be reasonable. Do you want this poor girl to… Do you want the same thing to happen to Bernine?"

Bernine leaned forward, tucking her sandaled toe behind her ankle in a little spurt of elation. As if she had whispered to herself, Bingo! Gotcha.

"All right," Dora said reluctantly. "If you want to do this, Ralph, all right. But we have been far too trusting in the past, and I…"

"Dora, this is different. Can't you see this is different?"

Dora sighed.

Ralph leaned close to Bernine, clutching her hand earnestly beneath the table, as if in a spasm of heart-to-heart communication. "Winthrop Jergen-it's hard to tell you this, my dear. But Winthrop Jergen is a-professional confidence artist."

Bernine caught her breath.

"We have the proof," Ralph said. "All the court proceedings are available, back in Georgia."

"You mean he's-been to jail?"

"Jergen wasn't convicted," Ralph told her, "but he's guilty as sin."

"We only hope," Dora said, "that we can convince Mavity of this. That she will accept the truth. We haven't told her yet. We wanted…"