Лилиан Браун - The Cat Who Knew A Cardinal

Hixie said, "I'll brief you and then leave you while I marshal the contestants in the lodge hall across the street." She produced two stacks of snapshots. "These are the finalists in both categories, a total of fifty. Run through them while you're having your drinks and choose the likeliest candidates, based on markings. Later, when you judge them live, your final selection will be based on the sweetest and funniest... See you shortly. The crowd is already lining up on the sidewalk, and the doors don't open for another hour." She bounced out of the dining room with the supreme confidence that was her trademark.

"I'm having another drink," Compton announced, bestowing his grouchy grimace on the other two judges.

Mildred said, "I'm not sure I approve of a duplicate prize based on a forgery. What kind of values are we presenting to our young people?"

Qwilleran said, "No one ever told me what the prize is going to be."

"Don't you read your own newspaper?" she scolded. "It's a case of catfood, fifty pounds of kitty gravel, and an all- expense weekend for two in Minneapolis."

"Let's go through this bunch of fakes first," said the superintendent, picking up the black-booted entries. He was accustomed to taking charge of a meeting. "The definitive marking, as we all know, is the so-called hat - the black patch over one ear and eye. That'll eliminate most of them."

Qwilleran said, "I see black collars, black earmuffs, black moustaches, black sunglasses, black epaulets, and black cummerbunds, but no hats."

Mildred spotted a hat with a chin- strap.

"Hang onto it. You may have a winner," said Compton.

"Are all these finalists going to be present in person?" Qwilleran asked.

"That's the idea. With fifty live cats in one room, there won't be much sweetness of expression," the superintendent predicted.

The white-footed entries were in the minority, and there were only three with hats, as opposed to seven hatted contestants in the other category.

"Having any luck?" asked Hixie when she breezed back into the dining room.

"Here's the best we can do." Mildred spread the ten snapshots on the table.

"Good! Turn them over, and you'll see a code number on the back: W-2, B-6, B- 12, and so forth. Okay? When the cats parade in front of you, each will be accompanied by a chaperon wearing the assigned code number. When you spot the ten preselected numbers, direct them to the runner-up platform. Then put your heads together and make the final decision. Take your time. Delay will add to the suspense... Now, is everything clear? I'll be back to get you in an hour. Enjoy your dinner. Be sure to have the bread pudding for dessert; it's super!... And wait till you see the enthusiastic crowd! This is the greatest thing that ever happened to Kennebeck! By the way, we have sweeter-and-funnier T- shirts for you if you care to wear them."

"Are you kidding?" Mildred asked.

The judges watched Hixie stride from the dining room. Every time the restaurant door opened, the hubbub across the street could be heard, and Compton said, "Sounds more like a riot to me!" They ordered steaks, and he turned to Qwilleran. "My wife says your barn tour was a big success."

"So I hear. I was glad to be out of town."

"It's true," said Mildred. "The visitors loved it, and they were simply floored by the apple tree tapestry. They objected to the zoological prints, though. Why do people have such an antipathy to bats? They're such cute little things, and they eat tons of mosquitoes."

"They're disgusting," Compton said.

"Not so!" Mildred was always ready to defend the underdog. "When I was in the second grade at Black Creek Elementary, our teacher had a bat in a cage, and we fed him bits of our lunch on the point of a pencil."

"They're filthy little monsters."

She flashed an indignant rebuttal at her boss. "We called him Boppo. He was very clean - always washing himself like a cat. I remember his bright eyes and perky ears, and he had a little pink mouth with sharp little teeth - "

" - which can start a rabies epidemic."

Mildred ignored the remark. "He'd hang upside down from his little hooks, and then he'd walk on his elbows. Such a clown! And I'm sure that both of you educated gentlemen know that a bat's wing structure is a lesson in aerodynamic design."

"I only know," Compton said with a scowl, "that there are other topics I'd rather discuss with my steak."

They talked about the steeplechase, the questionable merits of tourism, the success of Henry VIII, and the VanBrook case. After coffee, when Mildred excused herself briefly, the superintendent hunched his shoulders and leaned across the table toward Qwilleran.

"While she's out of hearing," he said, "I have something confidential to report. You questioned Hilary's credentials the other day, so I did a little checking on the three colleges that supposedly granted his degrees. One institution doesn't exist and never did, and the other two have no record of the guy - by either of his names."

Qwilleran said in a low voice, "There's evidence that he was deceitful in petty ways, so I'm not surprised."

"This is off the record, of course. I see no need of announcing it, now that he's gone. He did a helluva good job for us, even though he was a miserable tyrant."

"The amazing thing is that he had such a fund of erudition, or so it seemed: Did you check Equity?"

"Yes, and I drew another blank - no evidence that he'd ever been a professional actor. But he wasn't all bad." Compton glanced around. "Here she comes. There's more to the story. I'll tell you later."

Mildred announced, "The crowd is fighting to get into the lodge hall. I hope they can control them during the judging."

At that moment Hixie arrived, flushed and breathless. "We have more people than we expected," she said. "A troop of Cub Scouts came just to see the show, and the first three rows are filled with seniors from the retirement village. Every cat has from five to a dozen supporters. We didn't count on that. The fire department may stop people from entering the building. All the chairs are taken, and yet most of those outside are contestants. We can't start until they're all in the hall, and we can't throw the first-comers out."

"Turn on the fire hose," Compton grumbled.

"Is there anything we can do?" Mildred asked.

"Just put on your judges' badges and take your places on the platform. I'll take you in the back door."

"Do I have to wear a badge?" Qwilleran asked. "I'd rather be anonymous when the shooting starts."

Hixie smuggled them into the lodge hall, and their appearance on the platform was greeted by cheers and whistles. They seated themselves at a long table covered with black felt, on which was a bushel basket of catnip toys thoughtfully provided by the promoters - one toy for each contestant whether a winner or not.

The rows of folding chairs were already filled, and an overflow crowd was standing in the aisles. At the rear of the hall, members of the chamber of commerce, wearing sweeter-and-funnier T- shirts, were trying to reason with the horde that demanded admittance. Those carrying feline finalists were loudly vocal in their indignation. Overpowering the official attendants, they pressed into the hall, and soon the room was filled with squabbling families and caterwauling cats. Some were in arms and some were in carrying coops, but all were black-and-white and all were unhappy.

"Something tells me," Compton said drily, "that this whole thing is not going to work."

In an effort to restore order and explain the unexpected situation, the president of the chamber of commerce appeared on the platform. He was greeted by a round of booing and catcalls. Raising his hand and shouting into the microphone, he tried to get the attention of the noisy audience, but the public address system was useless. Nothing could be heard above the din, and the feedback added ear-shattering electronic screeches to the pandemonium. Cat chaperons were shaking their fists at the stage. Mothers shrieked that their children were being trampled. Two black-and-white cats-in- arms flew at each other and engaged in a bloody battle. At the height of the confusion, a giant black-and-white tomcat broke away from his chaperon and bounded to the platform and the basket of catnip toys. Instantly, every cat who could break loose followed the leader, leaping across the white heads of screaming seniors in the front rows, until the judges' table was alive with fighting animals and the air was thick with flying fur. The judges ducked under the table just as the police appeared on the platform with bullhorns and, mysteriously, the sprinkler system went into operation.