Лилиан Браун: The Cat Who Went Into The Closet

"I say they were spies from the Lockmaster Ledger;" she said. "They steal all our good ideas. Do you suppose she had a tape recorder under that big wig? I'm glad we copyrighted the script; we can sue."

Arch Riker and Mildred Hanstable were almost the last to leave. The publisher was beaming. "Great job, you two kids! Best PR stunt we could spring on this kind of community!"

"Thanks, boss," said Qwilleran. "I'll expect a raise."

"You'll be fired if you don't start writing your column again. The readers are screaming for your pellucid prose on page two. Consider your vacation over as of tomorrow."

"Vacation! I've been working like a dog on this show! And I haven't seen anything that looks like a bonus!"

This sparring between the two old friends was a perpetual game, since the Moose County Something was backed financially by the Klingenschoen Foundation, established by Qwilleran to dispose of his unwanted millions.

Riker drove Mildred home, and Qwilleran told Polly he would escort her to her carriage house in the rear. "I'll be right back," he told the Siamese, who were loitering nearby and beaming questioning looks in his direction.

"I've missed you, dear," Polly said as they walked briskly hand in hand through the chill October evening. "I thought I had lost my Most Favored Woman status. Bootsie missed you, too."

"Sure," Qwilleran replied testily. He and Polly's macho Siamese had been engaged in a cold war ever since Bootsie was a kitten.

"Would you like to come upstairs for some real food and a cup of coffee?"

Qwilleran said he wouldn't mind going up for a few minutes. When he came down two hours later, he walked slowly despite the falling temperature, reflecting that he was happier than he had ever been in his entire life-not that the pursuit of happiness had concerned him in his earlier years. What mattered then was the excitement of covering breaking news, working all night to meet a deadline, moving from city to city for new challenges, hanging out at press clubs, and not caring about money. Now he was experiencing something totally different: the contentment of living in a small town, writing for a small newspaper, loving an intelligent woman of his own age, living with two companionable cats. And, to cap it all, he was on the stage again! Not since college days, when he played Tom in "The Glass Menagerie," had he known the satisfaction of creating a character and bringing that character to life for an audience.

At the side door of the mansion he was greeted by the scolding yowls and switching tails of two indignant Siamese, whose evening repast was late.

"My apologies," he said as he gave them a crunchy snack. "The pressure is off now, and we'll get back to normal. You've been very understanding and cooperative. How would you like a read after I've turned out the lights? The electric bill is going to be astronomical."

Despite his affluence, Qwilleran was frugal about utilities. Now he went from room to room through the great house, flipping off switches. The Siamese accompanied him, pursuing their own special interests. In one of the large front bedrooms upstairs he noticed a closet door ajar and a horizontal brown tail disappearing within. Minutes later, Koko caught up with him and dropped something at his feet.

"Thank you," Qwilleran said courteously as he picked up a purple ribbon bow and dropped it in his sweater pocket. To himself he said, If Euphonia's theory is true, Koko sensed a source of energy. Cats, he had been told, are attracted to sources of energy.

The three of them gathered in the library for their read, a ritual the Siamese always enjoyed. Whether it was the sound of a human voice, or the warmth of a human lap and a table lamp, or the simple idea of propinquity, a read was one of their catly pleasures that ranked with grooming their fur and chasing each other. As for Qwilleran, he enjoyed the company of living creatures and - to be perfectly honest - the sound of his own voice.

"Would anyone care to choose a title?" he asked. In the library there were a few hundred books that Mrs. Gage had been unable to sell, plus a dozen classics that Qwilleran had brought from the barn along with his typewriter and computerized coffeemaker. Koko sniffed the bindings until his twitching nose settled on Robinson Crusoe from Qwilleran's own collection.

"Good choice," Qwilleran commented as he sank into a leather lounge chair worn to the contours of a hammock. Yum Yum leaped lightly into his lap, settling down slowly with a sigh, like a motor vehicle with hydraulic suspension, while Koko arranged himself on a nearby table under the glow of a 75-watt lamp bulb.

They were halfway through the opening paragraph when the telephone on the desk rang. "Excuse me," Qwilleran said, lifting Yum Yum gently and placing her on the seat he had vacated. He anticipated another compliment on "The Big Burning" and responded with a gracious "Good evening."

Arch Riker's voice barked with urgency. "Hate to bother you, Qwill, but I've just had a call from Junior. He's flying to Florida first thing in the morning. His grandmother was found dead in bed."

"Hmmm... curious!" Qwilleran murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"A few minutes ago Koko brought me one of her hair ribbons."

"Yeah, well... that cat is tuned in to everything. But why I'm calling - "

"And everyone at the party tonight," Qwilleran went on, "was mentioning how healthy she was."

"That's the sad part," Riker said. "The police told Junior it was suicide."

-3-

THE NEWS OF Euphonia Gage's suicide was surprising, if not incredible. "What was her motive?" Qwilleran asked Arch Riker.

"We don't know yet. We'll run a died-suddenly on the front page of tomorrow's paper and give it the full treatment Wednesday. Junior is drafting an obit on the plane and will fax it when he arrives down there and gets a few more details. Meanwhile, will you see if you can dig out some photos? Her early life, studio portraits - anything will be useful. She was the last of the Gages. Junior says she left some photo albums in the house, but he doesn't know exactly where."

As Qwilleran listened to the publisher's directive, he felt a fumbling in his pocket and reached down to grab a paw. "No!" he scolded. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing. Yum Yum was picking my pocket."

"Well, see what you can find for Wednesday. Usual deadline. Sorry to bother you tonight."

"No bother. I'll give you a ring in the morning."

Before resuming the reading of Robinson Crusoe, Qwilleran added the purple ribbon bow to what he called the Kao K'o Kung Collection in a desk drawer. It consisted of oddments retrieved by one or more cats from the gaping closets of the Gage mansion: champagne cork, matchbook, pocket comb, small sponge, pencil stub, rubber eraser, and the like. Yum Yum left her contributions scattered about the house; Koko organized his under the kitchen table, alongside their water dish and feeding station.

As the day ended, Qwilleran felt a welcome surge of relief and satisfaction; "The Big Burning" had been successfully launched and enthusiastically received. He slept soundly that night and would not have heard the early-morning summons from the library telephone if eight bony legs had not landed simultaneously on tender parts of his supine body.

Hixie Rice was on the line, as bright and breezy as ever. "Pardonnez-moi! Did I get you out of bed?" she asked when Qwilleran answered gruffly. "You sound as if you haven't had your coffee yet. Well, this will wake you up! We have two bookings for our show, if the dates are okay with you. The first is Thursday afternoon at Mooseland High School. That's a consolidated school serving the agricultural townships."

"I'm not keen about doing the show for kids," he objected.

"They're not kids. They're young adults, and they'll love it!"