Лилиан Браун - The Cat Who Knew A Cardinal

"It was, and I've had about fifteen minutes' sleep."

"Sorry I woke you, Qwill. Go back to sleep. I'm going to call some of the others now."

Qwilleran looked at his bedside clock. In five minutes WPKX would feature the Orchard Incident on the eight o'clock newscast. He steeled himself for another misleading bulletin, WPKX style, with inflated prepositions and pretentious pauses:

"Hilary VanBrook, principal of Pickax High School, was found dead early this morning IN... a parked... car. Police say VanBrook was shot in the head AFTER... an all-night party held AT... a barn... occupied BY... James Qwilleran. Suicide has been ruled out, and robbery was apparently not the motive according TO... Police Chief... Andrew... Brodie. No further details are available AT... this... hour."

Qwilleran muttered, "I could punch that announcer IN... the teeth!" The reference to "a parked car" and "all- night party" would have tongues wagging allover the county, he predicted. It was Sunday. He could imagine the buzzing among church goers. Telephone lines would be jammed; restaurants would be crowded with folks who never dined out as a rule; neighbors who disliked yard-work would be raking leaves and spreading rumors across back fences. Immediately Qwilleran's own phone started to ring.

Larry Lanspeak was the first to call. "Heard any thing more, Qwill?"

"Not a word."

"Okay if I drop in for a few minutes before church?"

"Sure. Come along."

"Carol's on the altar committee, so I'll have to drop her off at ten o'clock with a trunkful of mums."

"Come through the theatre parking lot," Qwilleran instructed him. "The lane's blockaded."

Next Eddington Smith called, speaking in the same trembling voice that had made him inaudible as Cardinal Campeius. "Do you think they'll suspect me?" he asked. "I've got a handgun in my workshop. Do you think I should get rid of it?"

"Has it been fired recently?" Qwilleran asked, knowing that Edd had never bought any ammunition.

"No, but it has my fingerprints. Maybe I should wipe them off."

"Don't do anything, Edd, and don't worry. The police wouldn't suspect you in a million years."

Shortly afterward, Susan Exbridge telephoned, opening with the brazen banter that she had affected since her divorce. "Qwill, darling, why don't you confess? With those sexy eyelid~ and that sinister moustache you look exactly like a killer."

In contrast, the next caller was frantically serious. It was Wally Toddwhistle's mother. "Oh, Mr. Q, I'm worried sick," she cried. "Do you think they'll suspect Wally?"

"Is there any reason why they should?"

"Well, he got into trouble in his last year of high school, and Horseface gave him a rotten deal. Don't you know about it?"

"No. What happened?"

"It was only a prank that the kids dreamed up. It wasn't even Wally's idea, but he took the blame and wouldn't tell on the others, and that damned principal expelled him a few weeks before graduation! I went to school and raised hell, but it didn't do any good. Wally never got his diploma. His dad was ill during all this trouble, and I think that's what killed him."

"Did you or Wally make any threats at that time?"

"Wally wouldn't threaten a fly! I guess I said a few things I shouldn't've, though. I speak my mind, but Wally is a sweet boy. He takes after his dad."

"When did this happen?"

"Two years ago last May."

"If you were going to shoot Mr. VanBrook, Mrs. Toddwhistle, you would have done it before this. Put your mind at ease."

She wanted to talk longer, but Larry Lanspeak arrived, and Qwilleran asked to be excused.

Larry, looking immaculate in his custom-tailored suit and highly polished wingtips, said, "Don't let me stay more than twenty minutes. I'm ushering today." The Lanspeaks attended the Old Stone Church across the park from the Klingenschoen Theatre - the largest, oldest, wealthiest congregation in town. He dropped into a chair in an attitude of dejection, saying, "I worry about this situation."

"Did Hilary attend your church?" Qwilleran asked as he poured coffee.

"I don't think he had church affiliations anywhere, but he seemed to be knowledgeable about Eastern religions."

"From what I observed, he seemed to be knowledgeable about everything."

"You can say that again! I remember seeing his r‚sum‚ when we hired him. He'd spent quite some time in Asia and claimed to read and write Chinese - as well as Japanese, which he claimed to speak fluently. His housekeeper told our housekeeper that he had a lot of Oriental stuff around the house... But that's not all! According to the r‚sum‚, he had studied architecture and horticulture; he had been an Equity actor in New York; and he had assorted degrees in education. I suppose you can do all that if you're not tied down with a family and don't spend any time socializing. He never attended athletic events or any other school function, which is a faux pas in a small community. In fact, he was conspicuously invisible on Saturdays and Sundays, although a couple of persons reported seeing him driving south on Friday nights - toward Lockmaster, you know."

"Where he spent the weekend smoking opium and reading Chinese poetry, no doubt," Qwilleran quipped.

"He was shot in the head, according to the radio," Larry said. "Doesn't that sound like a Chinese execution?"

"Or someone was hiding in the backseat, waiting for him to get behind the wheel. That's how they do it in the movies."

"Don't take this too lightly, Qwill. It certainly looks as if the shooter was one of us."

"Or someone who wanted to make it look like one of us."

"I'll tell you one thing - straight. I've never seen a rehearsal period with so much antagonism... On the other hand, could it be some kind of drug connection?"

"I thought Moose County was free of influences from Down Below," Qwilleran said. "There are no fast-food chains. Not even garage sales!"

"But they're going to creep in," Larry predicted, "now that we've started promoting tourism."

Qwilleran refilled the coffee cups. "Were you able to reach the superintendent?"

"Yes, I woke Lyle around four o'clock this morning and broke the news."

"What was his reaction?"

"Well, you know Lyle Compton! He never minces words! He said he'd often felt like braining Hilary himself. That'll be the general reaction around town, believe me! We'll have enough collective guilt in Pickax to sink a battleship."

Qwilleran said, "I just heard that VanBrook expelled Wally Toddwhistle a few weeks short of graduation because of some schoolboy escapade."

"True. And it was a crime on Hilary's part. Wally is a nice quiet kid, and he was a pretty good student. As for the nature of the prank, most people around town got a kick out of it."

"What was the offense?"

"Well, it was like this. Wally's father was a taxidermist, you know, and Wally brought a stuffed skunk to school. Somehow it turned up on the principal's chair. Wally looked like the obvious culprit, although he swore he didn't do it. The whole school board went to bat for him, but VanBrook threw him out. He told the board he'd run the school his way or tear up his contract. Lyle was afraid to cross him."

"It seems like draconian punishment."

"Wally didn't really suffer, though. He'd been working with his father ever since he was a kid, so he just took over the taxidermy shop, and he's doing okay without a diploma. He's simply talented. Hunters allover the Midwest send him their skins."

"More coffee, Larry?"

"No, thanks. This is potent stuff. I'll be waltzing up the center aisle and spilling the offering plate." He looked at his watch. "I hear church bells. I'll talk to you later." On the way out he stopped to say, "Wait till Lockmaster hears about this! The people down there think we're barbarians, and this will confirm their opinion."