Моника Шонесси - The Tell-Tail Heart

"Go," she said. "I insist."

He kissed her on the cheek. "I do not deserve a wife as fair-minded as you, sweet Virginia."

She smiled wanly. "I will agree with you, but only because I am too tired to argue."

Whatever she said must have convinced him to go, for we made straightaway for the city, leaving behind the last of my uncertainty.

Two Makes a Pair

Two majestic townhomes sandwiched Mr. Lorbin's spectacle shop in the neighborhood of Logan Square, a fact confirming all roads did, indeed, lead to the blue-eyed bandit. Eddie and I stepped from our hired coach and approached the building with mutual urgency. This time, however, I minded my step. At the start of our journey, I'd neglected to match Eddie's stride and accidentally tripped him as we left the neighborhood. He admonished me for following him—he looked genuinely surprised that I had—but I overcame these protestations with a gentle trill, and we were on our way.

Once we reached busy Coates Street, Eddie hired a public carriage and told the driver to "seek out Ezekiel Lorbin's office, full chisel." We bounced through the cobblestone streets, my bones rattling like a sack of Mr. Coffin's nails. For my own amusement, I sharpened my claws on the tufted velvet cushion and sniffed the horsehair that spilled from the rips. Paradise on four wheels! From now on, I would stop running about like a madcat and use human transportation for all my future endeavors. Eddie ignored me and stared out the window, his brow furrowed. So I followed suit, observing the city from the back window of the closed coach. The faster we flew, the blurrier the people grew until I became almost dizzy.

Near the park, a group of nannies stopped their baby carriages and waved, signaling me out to their charges. The squeal of children seemed to shake Eddie from his preoccupation, and he began to talk again, first about the warm weather streak, then about his books. "We sold four copies of Tamerlane in an hour, Catters. Four ," he said. He unbuttoned his overcoat and pulled the window shade, cutting the sun. "They'd been in storage for years—oh, how young and naïve the author!—and now they are in the hands of readers. If I solve this mystery, what might it do for my public profile? I could raise money for The Penn in no time."

The Home for Broken Humans appeared in the carriage window. As we passed, I stared back at the building and chirped with anticipation. When we traveled this way again, I would create a ruckus and force Eddie to stop the carriage. While I longed to hunt in Rittenhouse, a meeting with Caroline would have to suffice until I could detour our investigation. Between Josef's mention of her name in the bar and Mr. Uppity's receipt of her note, the young woman knew something of the crimes. I switched my tail and wondered if the hospital door would swing open for our arrival, because it would take this degree of precision to carry out my plan.

Our driver pulled curbside, and we departed for the optician's shop. What a funny word, optician . Why didn't they just say spectacle? I didn't know who this Lorbin fellow was, but I questioned his usefulness. To our mutual agreement, I waited for Eddie outside on the stoop and surveyed the street for any sign of the dappled mare and gig. Mostly residential, this sedate piece of Philadelphia held little activity, save for a group of mourners in the cemetery across the way. I recognized it as the burial ground I'd passed before my confrontation with Claw. I watched as the humans lowered a coffin into the ground with ropes, their grip unsteady and faltering. The wailing that accompanied the event pricked my ears. For all its certainty, death's timing is decidedly uncertain. This I feared most. One day, one very unexpected day, I would wake up beneath Sissy's cold, grey arm. But I would not wail as these humans did. I would become very, very still—

A bespectacled Mr. Lorbin opened the door, pushing me from the step, and, mercifully, from my morbid obsessions. The glasses magnified his eyes to an alarming size. I could've watched the twin brown fish swim in their bowls all afternoon. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help, Mr. Poe. Try the Wills Hospital. They should be able to help with your inquiry."

"Thank you, Mr. Lorbin. You've been most helpful." Eddie leapt to the sidewalk with excitement. "If you are to follow me, Cattarina, you must be quick. I am a man in search of answers."

I scurried down the street after him, working to keep pace. Imagine my surprise when we turned up the walkway toward the Home for Broken Humans. Great Cat Above, I hadn't expected this! A comely woman with slender hands and narrow shoulders greeted Eddie and invited him into the entry hall. The smell of boiled chicken permeated the air, giving it a gelatinous feel.

"Good afternoon, sir," she said to Eddie. "Welcome to the Wills Hospital. Are you here to see a patient?"

"No, I'm here to see Dr. Burton." He reached to take his hat off. When he realized he'd left it at home, he clasped his hands behind his back instead. "On the recommendation of Ezekiel Lorbin."

Not wanting the "shoo" again, I stationed myself behind the usual potted plant and waited.

"Dr. Burton is occupied. A patient died rather suddenly this morning, and he's been attending to the details." Her bottom lip quivered. "Terrible tragedy the way Mr. Sullivan passed. The police are being summoned—" She inhaled sharply and covered her mouth with her fingertips. "You must forgive me. I talk far too much."

"On the contrary." The corner of Eddie's mustache lifted. "I find it helps during trials of fortitude. Madame, I stand before you, eager to share in your burden. Now then, how did Mr. Sullivan die?"

"I cannot speak it."

"Then show me."

She motioned to her throat, drawing her finger across it in a line. "Who would be heartless enough to kill a man with one leg? And then steal his artificial one?" She laid her hands along her cheeks. "He'd just gotten it, too. Brand new steel contraption with springs at the knee."

I slunk from my hiding place and crawled around the room, scuttling the baseboards like a cockroach.

Eddie's eyes shone in the sunlight cascading through the window. "Tell me more about this leg."

I left them mid exchange and entered the long room where I'd found Caroline and Josef yesterday. Most patients sat upright against their pillows, eating the boiled chicken from metal plates. Not all had the strength to lift a fork, however, and had to be fed by nurses—including Caroline. I ducked under the tunnel of bedframes to arrive at hers, making sure to stay out of view of anyone in a white pinafore. Once the nurse left with Caroline's empty dishes, I jumped onto the young woman's lap.

"Hello," Caroline said. "What's this?"

I froze beneath her pale blue gaze.

"I like pussycats," she said to me in a whisper. "I can't see you, but your fur feels exquisite."

I put my paws on her chest and examined her eyes. To my horror, they were identical to the one I found at Shakey House and altogether unnatural looking, giving her the appearance of a china doll. I hadn't seen them on my last visit because she'd kept her back to me. At least now I understood her involvement in the murders. She'd been the recipient Mr. Uppity's ill-gotten pearls.

Caroline stroked my head. "Who let you in here, Miss Puss?"

I glanced at Eddie in the entry hall, still deep in conversation with our greeter. Desperate to draw his notice and draw it now, I yowled with all my being. The patients pointed and laughed at me with riotous enthusiasm, as if I'd provided post-luncheon entertainment. Fiddlesticks. Their ruckus drew the attention of both Eddie and the nurses. The women rushed us, causing me to ponder—ah, the burden of verbosity!—what a group of them might be called. After all, geese had gaggles, dogs had packs, crows had murders. I settled on stern of nurses and ran like the devil.