Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 14 Who Wasn't There

Cup of coffee?" She served it in a mug stenciled with the letter Q, a mischievous reference to his habitual freeloading.

"I'm glad you dropped in, Qwill. I've found something that you simply must have! It's you!" "I should know the free coffee is never free," he said.

"What is it?" She opened a flat box with exaggerated care.

"This is an acid-free box, and this is acid-free tissue," she explained, as she unwrapped a drab fragment of cloth.

"What the devil is that?" "It's a Scottish relic--a fragment of a Mackintosh kilt that was worn by a Jacobite rebel at the Battle of Culloden in 1746!" "How do you know it is? It looks like a reject from a trash can." "It's documented. It belonged to an old family in Lockmaster, who came here from Canada. Their ancestors were exiled to the New World during the Scottish Clearances." "And what am I supposed to do with this faded rag? It wouldn't even be good enough to wash the car!" "We'd preserve it in a protective frame for you, as they do in museums, and you could put it on display. Of course, we'd have to pick a location without much daylight or artificial light." "That limits us to the broom closet and the cats' bathroom," he said.

"How much is it worth?" "It's expensive, but you can afford it, considering all the money you save on coffee and phone calls." "I'll kick it around." "Do that," Fran said, refilling his coffee mug.

"So you're going to Scotland with my boss! I hear they're having trouble filling all the seats. Is that because Amanda is one of the passengers? Or because Irma Hasselrich is the tour director?" "Doesn't Irma have much of a fan club?" Qwilleran asked.

"I'm afraid people think she's snobbish and bossy, and her perfect grooming frightens some of the casual types around town. Amanda says she looks like a peeled egg... One thing I'd like to know: Why did Irma schedule the tour to overlap our rehearsals of Macbeth? Our three most important people are taking the trip: the two leads and the director!" "Is Melinda playing Lady Macbeth?" Fran nodded with disapproval.

"Several women read for it, and Carol was my choice, but Dwight Somers wanted Melinda. He's sort of goggle-eyed about Melinda. She's probably the reason he signed up for the Scottish tour." Qwilleran thought, Good! I hope he monopolizes her and keeps her out of my hair.

One evening shortly after that, when he and Polly were dining at Tipsy's Tavern in North Kennebeck, Melinda was seated at a table in the same room. He avoided looking in her direction but was aware that her escort was a man with a neat beard.

Polly said it was Dwight Somers.

"They're both going on the Bonnie Scots Tour. Melinda is a longtime friend of Irma, you know." "Is that so?" Qwilleran remarked inanely, wincing at the prick of his vanity; he thought that he himself was Melinda's reason for signing up.

Polly was saying, "I had a physical at her office today. I remember her fifteen years ago when she brought her high school assignments to the library, and it's difficult to relate to her as a doctor, but Irma says we women must be supportive. My sister-in-law works in the office at the Goodwinter clinic, and I've learned that Dr. Hal's male patients are transferring their records to a man in Lockmaster, an internist and urologist." Qwilleran said, "If you want my guess, it's their wives who don't want them going to a young woman doctor." He was going to say "young attractive woman doctor" but edited his own dialogue. As if on cue, Melinda passed their table on the way to the restroom.

"Hi, lover," she said breezily, pausing for a moment that seemed too long. Qwilleran rose from his chair and said something trite.

"Dr. Goodwinter, I presume.

" He rose courteously, but he kept one hand on the back of his chair and stood in a semi crouch ready to sit down again when she moved on, which he hoped would be soon.

"Are you all excited about our trip together?" she asked with a sly glance, addressing him directly.

"Polly and I are both looking forward to it." He nodded graciously to his guest.

"Then I'll see you on the bonnie banks of Loch Lomond, lover," Melinda said as she sauntered away, drawing a manicured hand suggestively across their tabletop. The whiff of fragrance that she left behind was the same she had worn three years before.

"Indeed!" Polly said with raised eyebrows.