Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 14 Who Wasn't There

"One dry sherry, two white grape juice," he told Mrs. Linguini, "and another of those for the gentleman." Mildred said, "Dr. Melinda wants me to lose weight, so I'm off alcohol for a while, and I'd like to ask you a personal question, Qwill, if you don't mind. When you first went on the wagon, how did you feel about going to parties?" "Well, all my partying was done at press clubs around the country--was "And Qwill was a hell-raiser when he was young," Riker interrupted.

"When I first stopped drinking, I stayed away from press clubs and felt sorry for myself. That was phase one.

In phase two, I found I could go to parties, drink club soda, and have a nice time. Not a good time, but a nice time. Now I realize that a good time depends on the company, the conversation, and the occasion--not a superficial high induced by a controlled substance." "I'll drink to that!" said Riker. There were no menu cards, and everyone in the restaurant had to eat what Mr. Linguini felt like cooking on that particular evening. Accordingly, when Mrs. Linguini brought the drinks, she also plumped down four baskets of raw vegetables and a dish of bubbling sauce kept hot over a burner.

"Bagna cauda!" she announced.

"You dip it. Verra nice." Riker, a meat-and-potatoes man, looked askance at the vegetables, but when he tasted the anchovy and garlic sauce, he ate his whole basketful and some of Mildred's.

"Zuppa di fagioli!" Mrs. Linguini said when she brought the soup course.

"Verra nice." "Looks like bean," he observed.

"And now tell me about Scotland," Mildred requested.

"Were you pleased with the tour?" "Scotland is haunting and ingratiating," Qwilleran replied, "but when a tour guide is telling me what to look at, I don't absorb the scene as much as I do when I make my own discoveries." "Hear! Hear!" said Riker.

"The four of us should go back there next year, rent a car, stay at bed-and-breakfasts, meet some Scots, and discover Scotland for ourselves. Of course, it's more work that way, and takes more time, and requires research." The soup bowls having been removed, the pasta course appeared. Mrs.

Linguini could hardly be said to serve; she delivered, banging the food on the table without ceremony.

"Tortellini quattro formaggi.

Verra nice." "Four cheeses! There goes my diet," Polly complained.

"I adore tortellini," said Mildred, "even though they're known as bellybuttons. The legend is that they were inspired by Venus's navel.

" "If you like legends," Polly told her, "you'll love Scotland! They have kelpies living in the lochs, ogres in haunted graveyards, and tiny fairies dressed in moss and seaweed who weave tartans from spiderwebs." "We didn't see any," Riker said.

"Probably went at the wrong time of year." "How do you like tonight's pasta?" Qwilleran asked.

"Verra nice!" they chorused in three-part harmony. Then Mildred wanted to know about the jewel theft, and they all pieced together the story, with Qwilleran concluding, "Scotland Yard is looking for the bus driver." "Does anyone know why it's called Scotland Yard?" No one knew, so Polly promised to look it up at the library the next day. Next they talked about the tag sale and Dr.

Hal's secret hobby. Riker said, "We're breaking the story on Monday's front page. The K Foundation is buying the whole collection for $100,000." "Wonderful!" said Mildred.

"Melinda needs the money." "I wouldn't say she's hurting. I see her $45,000 car parked on the lot at Indian Village." Qwilleran mused over his spaghetti as Mildred extolled the paintings. He wondered if the saintly Dr.

Halifax had yet another secret in his life. Perhaps his monthly payments through a Lockmaster bank had not gone to his profligate son, else why would they continue after the young man's death?

"Did either of you know the doctor's son?" he asked the two women.

"He never came into the library," Polly said.

"He wasn't in any of my classes," said Mildred, "but I know he was a problem at school and a worry to his parents." "And yet I suppose they gave him a big funeral and pulled out all the stops." "No, just a memorial service in the home for the immediate family. His mother was bedridden, you know." Skeptical as always, Qwilleran thought, Perhaps the car crash was no accident; it could have been planned. He remembered another such scandal in Pickax, involving a "good family." If such were the case, the doctor's payments were extortion money, going to a hired killer.

"Here she comes again," Riker mumbled. The entree was delivered.

"Polpettone alla bolognese! Verra nice." "It's meat loaf, " he said after tasting it.

"But delicious! I'd love to take some home to Bootsie," Polly said.