Лилиан Браун - The Cat Who Sniffed Glue

"Anything wrong in there, Edd?"

"There's a book missing."

"Valuable?"

The bookseller nodded. "There might be more missing. I won't know till I finish checking the whole inventory."

"Could I help you? Could I read off the listings or anything like that?" Qwilleran had a great desire to see that room.

"No, I can do it better by myself. Do you like cream of chicken soup?"

Koko was now examining the far end of the room - the only wall without bookshelves. It was richly paneled, and it sealed off one end of the library under the balcony. Koko always discovered anything that was different, and this wall looked like an afterthought; it destroyed the symmetry of the room. "Start heating the soup," Qwilleran said. "I want to finish dusting this bottom shelf."

As soon as Eddington had left, he rapped the odd wall with his knuckles. This had been a bootlegger's house, and bootleggers were known to like secret rooms and subterranean passages. He studied it for irregularities or hidden latches. He pressed the individual sections, hoping to find one less stable than the others. While he was systematically examining the wall, the library door opened.

"Soup's ready!"

"Beautiful paneling!" Qwilleran said. "Just by touching it anyone could tell it's superior to the stuff they use nowadays."

He bundled Koko into the hamper, apologizing for his scent, although Eddington insisted he didn't notice anything, and the three of them went to the kitchen for lunch.

"It isn't much," the little man said, "but 'We must eat to live and live to eat.' Fielding said that."

"You are exceptionally well-read," said Qwilleran. "I suspect you do more reading than dusting when you disappear into that little room. What kind of books do you have in there?"

The bookseller's face brightened. "The Nuremberg Chronicle, 1493... a Bay psalm book in perfect condition-the first book published in the English colonies in America... a first of Foe's "Tamerlane"... the first bible printed in America; it's in an Indian language."

"What are they worth?"

"Some of them could bring a price in five or six figures!"

"If one were stolen, would it be difficult to sell? Are there fences who handle hot books?"

"I don't know. I never thought about that."

"Which book is missing?"

"An early work on anatomy - very rare."

"A family member may have borrowed it to read," Qwilleran suggested.

"I don't think so. It's in Latin."

"I'm amazed at your knowledge of books, Edd. I wish I could remember everything I've read and come up with a trenchant quote for every occasion."

Eddington looked guilty. "I haven't done much reading," he confessed. "I took Winston Churchill's advice.

He said: 'It's a good thing for an uneducated man to read books of quotations.' "

After the meagre lunch (Koko had a few bits of chicken from the soup) the party returned to the library. Eddington locked himself in the little room while Qwilleran resumed his dusting (Tennyson, Thackeray, Twain) and Koko resumed his explorations. The hush in the library was almost unnerving. Qwilleran could hear himself breathe. He could hear Koko padding across the parquet floor. He could hear... a sudden creaking of wood at the far end of the room. Koko was standing on his hind legs and resting his paws on the paneled wall that was different from the others. A section of it was moving, swinging open. Koko hopped through the aperture.

Qwilleran hurried to the spot. "Koko, get out of there!" he scolded, but the inspector general had found something new to inspect and was totally deaf. The secret door opened into a storage room - windowless, airless, stifling, and dark. Qwilleran groped for a light switch but found none. In the half-light slanting in from the library chandeliers he could see ghostly forms in the shadows: life-size figures of marble or carved wood, a huge Buddha, crude pottery ornamented with grotesque faces, a steel safe, and... a brass bugle! It was the one he would have used in the Theatre Club production if the show had not been canceled, and he resisted the impulse to Shatter the silence with a brassy blast.

In the close atmosphere Koko's unfortunate aroma was accentuated. He was prowling in and out of the shadows, and one of the items that attracted him was an attach‚ case. Qwilleran had learned not to take Koko's discoveries casually, and he grabbed the case away from the purring cat. Kneeling on the floor in a patch of dim light he snapped the latches, opened the lid eagerly, and sucked in his breath at the sight of its contents. As he did so, a shadow fell across the open case, and he looked up to see the silhouette of a man in the doorway - a man with a club.

Lunging for the bugle, Qwilleran raised it to his lips and blew a deafening blast. At the same moment the man came through the door, swinging the club. Qwilleran bellowed and struck at him with the bugle. In the semidarkness both weapons missed their mark. The club descended again, and Qwilleran ducked. He swung the bugle again with both hands, like a ballbat, but connected with nothing. The two men were flailing blindly and wildly. Qwilleran was breathing hard, and the stitch in his side felt like a knife-thrust.

Dodging behind a cigar store Indian he waited for the right moment and slashed again with all his strength. He missed the man, but he struck the club. To his amazement it crumbled! Instantly he swung the brass bugle at his assailant's head, and the man sank dizzily to the floor.

Only then did Qwilleran see his face in full light. "David!" he shouted.

Outside the door a hollow voice roared, "Stop or I'll shoot!"

Qwilleran froze and slowly raised his hands. From the corner of his eye he could see a handgun; it was pointed at the crumpled figure on the floor.

"Edd! Where'd you get that?" he gasped.

"It was in my shopping bag," said the little man, reverting to his usual shy delivery. For the first time in his life he had projected his voice.

"Keep him covered while I call the police, Edd. He might come around and start trouble again."

As he spoke, Koko emerged from the shadows and stalked the supine figure on the floor. He was purring mightily as he rubbed his head against the sprawled legs. He climbed on the man's chest and sniffed nose to nose. The man stirred and opened his eyes, saw two blue eyes staring into his own, caught a whiff of Koko's aroma, and passed out again.

-Scene Ten-

Place: Back at Qwilleran's apartment over the garage

Time: Later the same day

NO ONE TALKED on the way back to Pickax. Eddington Smith was frozen to the wheel; Qwilleran was still aghast at his recent discovery; and Koko was asleep in the hamper, which was placed at the extreme rear of the station wagon, with all the windows open.

"Thanks for the ride, Edd. Thanks for the good lunch," Qwilleran said when they arrived. "Don't forget to report that missing book to the lawyer."

"Oh, I found it! It was on the wrong shelf!"

"Well, it was an exciting afternoon, to put it mildly."

" 'Excitement is the drunkenness of the spirit,' as somebody said."

"Uh... yes. I'm glad you didn't have to use your gun."

"I am, too," said Eddington. "I didn't have any bullets."

It was then that QwiIleran noticed Francesca's car in the drive, and it reminded him that his troubles were not over. He carried the hamper into the garage. "Sorry, Koko. I've got to keep you down here until Fran leaves. You're smeIling pretty ripe."

As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, his nose told him that Yum Yum also needed another shot of deodorant spray, and his eyes notified him that something was missing in the hallway. The Mackintosh coat of arms was not leaning against the wall in its accustomed place.

"HeIlo!" he called. "Fran, are you here?"