Блейз Клемент - Cat Sitter Among The Pigeons

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Author Blaize Clement has
earned herself a legion of fans
with the first five books in her
pet-sitting mystery series. Now
Blaize's beloved heroine, Dixie
Hemingway, is back, and when Dixie's latest assignment turns
dangerous, it's up to her to save
the day.
Dixie, no relation to you-know-
who, is helping an injured and
cantankerous man take care of Cheddar, his orange shorthair
cat. Soon Dixie finds herself
totally smitten with the man's
adorable infant great-
granddaughter. But the baby's
naive young mother has enough knowledge about certain
powerful local big-money
honchos to send them to prison
for life, and they are willing to
do anything, even kill her baby,
to shut her up. Caught in the turmoil caused by
the grandfather's prickly pride,
the granddaughter's misguided
plans to regain her young
husband's respect by telling the
truth in court, and the ruthless determination of wealthy
villains to preserve their ill-
gotten millions, Dixie is the only
person who can rescue the
baby. And she has to do it
without letting law- enforcement people know -- not
even Lieutenant Guidry, with
whom she has a new romantic
relationship.
Does Dixie have her claws sunk
too deep to make it out of this one? Find out in book six of
Blaize Clement's splendid series.

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He and Colonel Pikeaway greeted each other rather in the manner of two reigning monarchs. Politenesses were exchanged.

Then, as Mr. Robinson accepted a cigar, Colonel Pikeaway said:

“It is very good of you to offer to help us.”

Mr. Robinson lit his cigar, savoured it appreciatively, and finally spoke.

“My dear fellow. I just thought - I hear things, you know. I know a lot of people, and they tell me things. I don't know why.”

Colonel Pikeaway did not comment on the reason why.

He said:

“I gather you've heard that Prince Ali Yusuf's plane has been found?”

“Wednesday of last week,” said Mr. Robinson. “Young Rawlinson was the pilot. A tricky flight. But the crash wasn't due to any error on Rawlinson's part. The plane had been tampered with - by a certain Achmed - senior mechanic. Completely trustworthy - or so Rawlinson thought. But he wasn't. He's got a very lucrative job with the new regime now.”

“So it was sabotage! We didn't know for sure. It's a sad story.”

“Yes. That poor young man - Ali Yusuf, I mean - was ill equipped to cope with corruption and treachery. His public school education was unwise - or at least that is my view. But we do not concern ourselves with him now, do we? He is yesterday's news. Nothing is so dead as a dead king. We are concerned, you in your way, I in mine, with what dead kings leave behind them.”

“Which is?”

Mr. Robinson shrugged his shoulders.

“A substantial bank balance in Geneva, a modest balance in London, considerable assets in his own country now taken over by the glorious new regime (and a little bad feeling as to how the spoils have been divided, or so I hear!), and finally a small personal item.”

“Small?”

“These things are relative. Anyway, small in bulk. Handy to carry upon the person.”

“They weren't on Ali Yusuf's person, as far as we know.”

“No. Because he had handed them over to young Rawlinson.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked Pikeaway sharply.

“Well, one is never sure,” said Mr. Robinson apologetically. “In a Palace there is so much gossip. It cannot all be true. But there was a very strong rumour to that effect.”

“They weren't on young Rawlinson's person, either.”

“In that case,” said Mr. Robinson, “it seems as though they must have been got out of the country by some other means.”

“What other means? Have you any idea?”

"Rawlinson went to a café in the town after he had received the jewels. He was not seen to speak to anyone or approach anyone while he was there. Then he went to the Ritz Savoy Hotel where his sister was staying. He went up to her room and was there for about twenty minutes. She herself was out. He then left the hotel and went to the Merchants Bank in Victory Square where he cashed a check. When he came out of the bank a disturbance was beginning. Students rioting about something. It was some time before the Square was cleared. Rawlinson then went straight to the airstrip where, in company with Sergeant Achmed, he went over the plane.

“Ali Yusuf drove out to see the new road construction, stopped his car at the airstrip, joined Rawlinson, and expressed a desire to take a short flight and see the dam and the new highway construction from the air. They took off and did not return.”

“And your deductions from that?”

“My dear fellow, the same as yours. Why did Bob Rawlinson spend twenty minutes in his sister's room when she was out and he had been told that she was not likely to return until evening? He left her a note which would have taken him at most three minutes to scribble. What did he do for the rest of the time?”

“You are suggesting that he concealed the jewels in some appropriate place among his sister's belongings?”

“It seems indicated, does it not? Mrs. Sutcliffe was evacuated that same day with other British subjects. She was flown to Aden with her daughter. She arrives at Tilbury, I believe, tomorrow.”

Pikeaway nodded.

“Look after her,” said Mr. Robinson.

“We're going to look after her,” said Pikeaway. “That's all arranged.”

“If she has the jewels, she will be in danger.” He closed his eyes. “I so much dislike violence.”

“You think there is likely to be violence?”

“There are people interested. Various undesirable people - if you understand me.”

“I understand you,” said Pikeaway grimly.

“And they will, of course, all double-cross each other.” Mr. Robinson shook his head. “So confusing.”

Colonel Pikeaway asked delicately: “Have you yourself any - er - special interest in the matter?”

“I represent a certain group of interests,” said Mr. Robinson. His voice was faintly reproachful. “Some of the stones in question were supplied by my syndicate to his late Highness - at a very fair and reasonable price. The group of people I represent who are interested in the recovery of the stones would, I may venture to say, have had the approval of the late owner. I shouldn't like to say more. These matters are so delicate.”

“But you are definitely on the side of the angels,” Colonel Pikeaway smiled.

“Ah, angels! Angels - yes.” He paused. “Do you happen to know who occupied the rooms in the Ritz Savoy Hotel on either side of the room occupied by Mrs. Sutcliffe and her daughter?”

Colonel Pikeaway looked vague.

“Let me see now - I believe I do. On the left-hand side was Seсora Angelica da Toredo - a Spanish - er- dancer appearing at the local cabaret. Perhaps nor strictly Spanish and perhaps not a very good dancer. But popular with the clientele. On the other side was one of a group of school teachers, I understand.”

Mr. Robinson beamed approvingly.

“You are always the same. I come to tell you things, but nearly always you know them already.”

“No, no.” Colonel Pikeaway made a polite disclaimer.

“Between us,” said Mr. Robinson, “we know a good deal.”

Their eyes met.

“I hope,” Mr. Robinson said, rising, “that we know enough.”

Cat Among the Pigeons

Chapter 4

RETURN OF A TRAVELLER

“Really!” said Mrs. Sutcliffe, in an annoyed voice, as she looked out of her hotel window, “I don't see why it always has to rain when one comes back to England. It makes it all seem so depressing.”

“I think it's lovely to be back,” said Jennifer. “Hearing everyone talk English in the streets! And we'll be able to have a really good tea presently. Bread and butter and jam and proper cakes.”

“I wish you weren't so insular, darling,” said Mrs. Sutcliffe. “What's the good of my taking you abroad all the way to the Persian Gulf if you're going to say you'd rather have stayed at home?”

“I don't mind going abroad just for a month or two,” said Jennifer. “All I said was I'm glad to be back.”

“Now do get out of the way, dear, and let me make sure that they've brought up all the luggage. Really, I do feel - I've felt ever since the war that people have got very dishonest nowadays. I'm sure if I hadn't kept an eye on things that man would have gone off with my green zip bag at Tilbury. And there was another man hanging about near the luggage. I saw him afterward on the train. I believe, you know, that these sneak-thieves meet the boats and if the people are flustered or seasick they go off with some of the suitcases.”

“Oh, you're always thinking things like that, Mother,” said Jennifer. “You think everybody you meet's dishonest.”

“Most of them are,” said Mrs. Sutcliffe grimly.

“Not English people,” said the loyal Jennifer.

“That's worse,” said her mother. “One doesn't expect anything else from Arabs and foreigners, but in England one's off one's guard and that makes it easier for dishonest people. Now do let me count. That's the big green suitcase and the black one, and the two small brown and the zip bag and the golf clubs and the racquets and the hold-all and the canvas suitcase - and where's the green bag? Oh, there it is. And that local tin trunk we bought to put the extra things in - yes, one, two, three, four, five, six - yes, that's right. All fourteen things are here.”

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