Лилиан Браун - The Cat Who Tailed A Thief

Arriving at their destination, they were greeted at the door by a committee of three: the beaming host in a red wool shirt, the plump and pretty hostess in a chef's apron, and their cat in his usual tuxedo with white shirt-front and spats. Toulouse looked slyly satisfied with his lot, like an alley-smart stray who has found a home with the food writer of a newspaper. The two women hugged, and each told the other she looked wonderful. The men, friends since childhood, had only to make eye contact to express all that needed to be said.

There was a Scotch pine tree in the living room, trimmed like the one at their wedding the previous Christmas: White pearlescent ornaments, white doves, white streamers. The festively wrapped packages under the tree included those sent over by Polly and Qwilleran. The aromas were those of pine boughs, roasting turkey, and hot mulled cider.

Mildred removed her apron and joined the others around a low party table loaded with hot and cold hor d'oeuvres.

Polly said, "I always feel so secure when I come to dinner here. Mildred doesn't fuss in the kitchen; she doesn't expect anyone to help; and everything turns out perfectly: the hot foods hot and the cold foods cold."

"Hear! Hear!" Qwilleran said.

As the four busied themselves with the hors d'oeuvres, conversation came in short bites:

About the theft: "An inside job! An outsider could have stolen it only if an insider talked on the outside."

About Lynette: "Suddenly she's looking ten years younger! Is she in love?... She was jilted twenty years ago and hasn't dated since... Maybe it's Wetherby Goode. She thinks he's cute."

About George Breze: "What's he doing in Indian Village?... His house on Sandpit Road is up for sale... His wife left him. Why did she stay as long as she did?"

About the Carmichaels: "Big difference in their ages... He's an asset to the community, but she's a misfit... Someone should talk to her about her wardrobe."

Polly said, "She has such a pouty mouth! Is it natural?"

"It's what they call a fish-mouth," Mildred said. "You can have it done."

"My wife is so worldly," said Arch.

Toulouse walked into the room with a solemn tread and rubbed against the cook's ankles as a reminder that the turkey was ready. Mildred served it with a brown-rice-and-walnut stuffing, twice- baked sweet potatoes with orange glaze, sesame-sauced broccoli, and two kinds of cranberry relish.

"I feel compelled to serve two kinds," she said, "or the turkey will be dry and the stuffing will be soggy. It's just a superstition."

"It's absurd," said her husband, "but I don't fight it."

Qwilleran claimed he had never been superstitious. "As a kid, I deliberately walked under ladders and stepped on cracks in the sidewalk."

"And look how he turned out!" Riker said. "Luckiest guy in the northeast central United States."

In pioneer days, Mildred related, it was unlucky to whistle in the mines, kill a woodpecker in a lumber camp, or drop a knife on the deck of a fishing boat.

"Today," Polly said, "we observe superstitions half in fun and half hopefully. Lynette always wears her grandmother's ring to play bridge, and she almost always wins."

"Anything will work if you think it will, Qwilleran said. "With the ring on her finger, she expects to win - a positive attitude that enables her to think clearly and make the right moves."

"The right bids," Arch corrected him. "You're thinking of chess."

With a wink at the others, Mildred said, "Arch always puts on his right shoe before the left."

"It has nothing to do with superstition. It has everything to do with efficiency," he explained. "It's the result of a lifelong time-and-motion study."

"You never told me that," she said innocently. "But if you accidentally put on the left shoe first, you take it off and start over."

"Who needs Big Brother? I've got Big Wife monitoring my behavior."

"Ooh! I'm going on a diet after the holidays," Mildred said.

"Isn't it strange," Polly remarked, "how many superstitions have to do with the feet, like putting a penny in your shoe for luck or wearing mismatched socks to take an exam? Bootsie gives his paw three licks - no more, no less - before starting to eat."

"Will someone explain to me," Qwilleran asked, "why Koko always eats with his rear end pointed north? No matter where he's being fed, he knows which way is north. And Yum Yum always approaches her food from the left. If something`s in way and she has to do otherwise, she throws up."

Arch groaned. "This conversation is getting too deep for me. Let's have dessert."

After the plum pudding had been served and after the coffee had been poured, the presents were opened - not in a mad scramble but one at a time, with everyone sharing the suspense.

The first - to Qwilleran from the Rikers - was an odd-shaped package about four feet long. "A short stepladder," he guessed. "A croquet set." It proved to be a pair of snowshoes. "Great!" he said. "There are snow trails all around here! It's just what I need to get some exercise this winter!" And he meant it.

Polly was thrilled with her suede suit and silk blouse, and the Rikers whooped in unison over the Majolica coffeepot. Then Arch unwrapped his baseball tie and exploded with laughter, while Mildred screamed in glee.

Qwilleran said, "It was supposed to be a joke, but I didn't know it was that funny!" He understood their reaction when, a few minutes later, he opened a long, narrow giftbox from Arch. It was a baseball tie.

The largest box under the tree - Qwilleran from Polly - was a set of leather-bound books by Herman Melville, a 1924 printing in mint condition. Included were novels that Qwilleran, a Melville buff, had never been able to find. He dug into the box excitedly, announcing title after title, and reading aloud some of the opening lines.

"Okay," Arch said, "you've got all winter to read those books. Let's open some more presents."

Also for Qwilleran was an opera recording from Polly: Adriana Levouvreur with Renata Tebaldi... Toulouse gave Koko and Yum Yum a gift certificate good at Toodle's fish counter... Arch gave Mildred a three-strand necklace of onyx beads accented with a cartouche of gold- veined lapis lazuli.

The last gift under the tree was tagged to Qwilleran from Bootsie. "It's a package bomb," he guessed. After unwrapping it with exaggerated care, he exclaimed, "I can only quote the bard: I am amazed and know not what to say! It's a sporran!"

"You could have fooled me," said Arch. "I thought it was something for cleaning the windshield."

"A sporran, for your information, Arch, is a fur ouch worn with a kilt by men in the Scottish Highlands. It's used to carry, money, car keys, driver's license, cigarettes, lighter, credit cards, sunglasses, and possibly a sandwich." He turned to Polly. "How did Bootsie find out I'd bought a kilt?"

"Everyone in town knows it, dear. There are no secrets in Pickax."

"Well, we're now a two-sporran family. Yum Yum has a cat-size sporran attached to her underside. It flaps from side to side when she trots, but hers is real fur. I think this one can be machine-washed and tumble-dried."

When dusk fell and the gaslights on River Lane began to glow, it was snowing, so Arch drove Polly and Qwilleran home with their loot and foil-wrapped packs of turkey for their cats. Qwilleran minced some before going to Polly's for mint tea and a recap of the afternoon:

"Carol gets the credit for selecting your suit, Polly."

"Mildred made your sporran, Qwill."

"The snowshoes are good-looking enough to hang on the wall when I'm not using them."

"Did you know Adriana was the last role Tebaldi sang before she retired?"

"Eddington Smith searched a whole year for a Melville collection. This one turned up on Boston."