Моника Шонесси - The Black Cats

Sissy wiped the sediment from her hair and clothes. “Cattarina!” she said. “Are you here? You can come out now. It’s quite safe, I assure you.”

“She will turn up, Mrs. Poe,” Mr. Fitzgerald assured her. “Cats are rather genius.”

“Mr. Fitzgerald,” Sissy said, “what is quicklime used for? Mother uses lime to preserve her eggs, but is that different—”

A watchman leaned through the kitchen door and said, “We’ve searched the entire house, what little there is. Mrs. Arnold isn’t here.”

“Gather the men and leave for my house,” Constable Harkness said. “Johnson and I will be along shortly.” He glanced at his pocket watch and buttoned his coat, indicating a departure.

The cobbler jumped to his feet, his ailment forgotten. “Go! That’s it! Go! I told you I was innocent.” He laughed and danced a little jig.

The constable ignored him and approached Sissy and Mr. Fitzgerald. “Sir, you have my leave. For now,” he said. “But I may have questions for you later.”

Mr. Fitzgerald hopped to it. He waved to the Poes as he made for the street. “Goodbye all! Goodbye!” He slapped Johnson’s shoulder on his way out. “Have a good afternoon!”

I stood and switched my tail. Eddy and Sissy had not solved the wall puzzle in time. Fiddlesticks. If Constable Harkness left, Mr. Arnold would never pay for his crimes. I contemplated which head I should pounce upon, Mr. Arnold’s or Constable Harkness’s. I settled on the constable’s. In the interest of solving the bigger crime, he would likely reserve punishment for my much smaller one. Besides which, Mr. Arnold scared me furless.

“You can’t,” Sissy said to the constable. She clasped her hands together. “Please. We haven’t found our cat yet.”

Eddy returned to his wife and held her close. “With or without Mr. Arnold’s blessing, we will stay and look for Cattarina. Do not fret, my dear.”

I crouched, calculating my angle.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Poe, but I must depart for home. Matilda is waiting. If you wish, I can leave Johnson,” he said. The man eyed a large crack in the brickwork near his feet. “I’m surprised the hovel didn’t collapse during our visit.”

I wiggled my rear, preparing for the jump.

“Hovel?” Mr. Arnold said. “I’ll have you know, this is a very well-constructed house.” He rapped against the brick wall with his knuckles.

“Meeeeoooowwwrrrrrr!”

Surprised by the howl—it had not come from me—I almost slipped from the beam. The room fell silent. The blood drained from Mr. Arnold’s face, turning him chalky.

“Meeeeoooowwwrrrrrr!” Midnight said again. The blow upon the bricks must have stirred him.

“That sound, it’s…it’s inhuman,” Eddy said, “and it’s coming from behind the wall! I knew the masonry looked recent.”

“Quicklime,” Sissy said under her breath. “Of course.”

“Johnson! Come here!” Constable Harkness clapped his hands. “Tear it down!”

“No!” Mr. Arnold protested.

Yes! Demolish the wall and reveal the evil deed! I leapt to another joist for a better view.

Eddy grabbed the cobbler by the shoulder and held him back while Johnson broke through the bricks with the watchman’s pole. As the mortar had not set, the structure fell with ease, revealing the body of Tabitha Arnold. She lay crumpled against the alcove’s interior and stared back at us with eyes much farther apart than nature intended. She had her husband to thank for this new look, as he’d split her skull nearly in half. The axe cleave ran from the top of her pate, along the bridge of her nose, and down to her chin, parting the hemispheres of her head. Perched on top of the woman’s corpse was Midnight. Infection had swollen his eye shut, giving him a rather hellish appearance. His tail bristled, and he spit fire at the man who’d killed his companion.

Sissy swooned. Constable Harkness caught her in time. “Poe,” he said, “you’ve got a murderer in your hands. Hold him tight.” He helped Sissy to her feet and lent her his arm.

“It’s Pluto, b-back from the dead.” Mr. Arnold strained to reach Midnight. “I walled the monster up within the tomb!” Eddy struggled to keep him still while Watchman Johnson looked on, dazed by Tabitha Arnold’s bloody corpse.

“Johnson! Drop your pole and help Mr. Poe,” the constable said. “Place Mr. Arnold under arrest.”

Watchman Johnson blinked.

“Never! I will not go to jail for something I didn’t do!” Mr. Arnold said. He twisted from Eddy’s grasp and pulled a knife from his pocket—the same pocketknife I’d seen at his house on Green Street. Before Watchman Johnson or Constable Harkness could stop him, Mr. Arnold unlocked the blade and dove for Eddy.

I unlocked my own and sprang from the joist.

I did not believe in hell, but if it existed, Abner and I would go together. I landed, claws first, and opened his scalp like a mouse belly. He dropped his knife and tried to swat me from his head, but I persisted. Unable to see with my back claws digging into his face, he staggered toward Eddy, and Eddy tripped him. The cobbler stumbled to the floor and stayed there. At last I had felled my quarry! I jumped to safety, settling near my companion’s feet without so much as a bent whisker.

“Don’t forget, Mr. Arnold,” Eddy said to him. “You can’t trust the Irish. Or their cats.”

Mr. Arnold stared at me, his eyes round and unblinking. “Release me from your power, you demon!” he shrieked. His eyes flickered with recognition. His memory had returned. “You are the cat in the fire!” he said to me. “You are the cat that haunts me! You are the c-cat…” He rolled to his side and drew up his knees. “It is coming back to me! It’s all coming back! The drink addled my brain. I have blacked out before, but never…never…” He slapped the flagstone floor in anger. “No, no, no!”

“What is coming back?” Sissy asked.

“Speak, man,” Eddy said.

“I killed Tabitha! I am the villain!”

***

Eddy wanted nothing more to do with Abner Arnold or his dreadful cellar. Despite his wishes to the contrary, Sissy demanded to stay and minister to the sick . This involved feeding Midnight a saucer of milk and wiping his ruined eye with a damp cloth. She completed these tasks in the Arnold’s kitchen after giving her husband a kiss on the cheek and a promise to return home soonest . At their parting, I divined that Eddy knew Sissy had secrets, and Sissy knew Eddy had secrets, and they each resolved to let the other keep them. My intuition aided more than just the hunt.

Sissy set Midnight on the kitchen table and examined him all over. “You poor thing,” she said to him. “A hot meal and a warm bed are what you need. I know just the home for you.”

I supervised from the floor. The murmured voices of the watchmen floated up from the cellar through the planks. They’d been with Mrs. Arnold for the duration and would probably remain with her long after Sissy, Midnight, and I left. As for Mr. Arnold, Constable Harkness put him in a wagon that I hoped was bound for Eastern State Penitentiary.

“Your mistress is kind,” Midnight said to me. “I like her.”

“She is not my mistress,” I said. “That implies inequality. However, we can agree on her kindness. You will not find a more caring human, besides my Eddy, of course.”

Sissy left us to wash her hands in the basin.

Midnight looked at me with his one good eye. “We did it, Cattarina. We avenged Snip. Though at the cost of a woman’s life.”

“Your companion’s life.”

“Yes. That pains me. Deeply.” He settled into a kitty loaf and tucked his front paws under his chest. “Now that I know true companionship, Cattarina, I can’t go back to Sarah.”