Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 17 Who Blew The Whistle

"There may be. Meanwhile, I've been reading the play aloud, and Koko gets excited whenever I mention Hermia. He also knocked Androcles and the Lion off the shelf - not one of Shaw's best, but I enjoyed reading it again. I played the lion when I was in college. It was a good role; no lines to learn."

"What else have you been reading?"

"A mind-boggling book on the engineering of the Panama Canal. Do you realize the Big Ditch took ten years to complete? It's forty miles long, and they dug out 240 million cubic yards of earth!"

She listened in a daze, and Qwilleran knew she was wondering how many cubic yards of earth would be necessary to build a berm on her property.

He rattled on, doubting that she was really listening. "The book was written by Colonel Goethals, the engineer in charge. It was published in 1916. The flyleaf of my copy was inscribed by Euphonia Gage to her father-in-law. It was a Christmas present. He would be Junior Goodwinter's great-grandfather. I'll give the book to Junior when I've finished reading it."

"That will be nice," Polly mused. When it was time to order from the menu, Qwilleran had no problem in making a choice: she - crab soup, an appetizer of mushrooms stuffed with spinach and goat cheese, a Caesar salad, and sea scallops with sun-dried tomatoes, basil, and saffron cream on angel hair pasta. Polly ordered grouper with no soup, no appetizer, and no salad.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked anxiously. She tended to keep her ailments a secret.

"Well, I've been plagued with indigestion lately," she confessed, as if it were a character flaw. "I have an appointment with Dr. Diane this week."

He thought, She's getting ulcers over that damned house!

Polly seemed to enjoy her spartan dinner and seemed to be having a good time. And yet, Qwilleran sensed a curtain between them. She was really thinking about her house, and he, to tell the truth, was really thinking about the briefing of his secret agent.

Celia arrived at the barn Sunday evening in a flurry of smiles and youthful exuberance. "I had a wonderful weekend!" she cried. "I attended service at the little Stone Church and met the pastor during the coffee hour in the basement. The choir leader said she could use another voice, and everyone was so friendly! Then Virginia took me to Black Creek to meet her folks, and we had a lovely brunch. I know I'm going to like it here, Chief."

"Good!" he said. "Make yourself comfortable while I concoct an exotic drink."

While he opened cans of pineapple juice and grapefruit juice, Celia found the wooden whistle on the coffee table and blew a few toots. "This takes me back!" she said. "When I was little and living on a farm, I could hear train whistles blowing all the time. That was to warn people to get off the tracks. Anybody who didn't have a car or a truck used to walk the rails to get to the next town." She sipped her drink. "My! This is good! What did you put in it?"

"I never reveal my culinary secrets," Qwilleran replied pompously.

"In the newspaper the police say they're investigating the scandal. Aren't they getting anywhere?"

"They do things their way, Celia, and we do things our way. We're searching for answers to questions, not hard evidence, which is what they have to have. That's why any scraps of information you pick up at The Roundhouse will help solve the puzzle."

"Something's bothering me, Chief. I feel guilty because I'm sort of... spying on Tish and Florrie."

"No need to feel that way. You're giving them something they desperately need: friendship, warmth, and sympathy, and at the same time helping to bring a criminal to justice. Just remember not to sound like an interrogator; keep the conversation chatty. Talk about your grandson, and ask Tish about her grandparents. Talk about your brothers, and inquire about hers."

Celia laughed at this. "I'll never go to heaven, Chief, after telling so many lies for you. I only had sisters."

"St. Peter will understand this ignoble means to a noble end. You must also bear in mind, Celia, that Tish may be lying to you; she may be part of the scam."

"Oh, my! That's hard to believe!"

"Nevertheless, keep your wits about you. It would be interesting to know what they're doing for money. Tish is laid off; all credit union deposits are frozen; her father has disappeared; that house must be costly to maintain, to say nothing of the cost of nursing care and medication. Did Floyd provide for the family before decamping? Did he keep a safe in the house? Is that where he kept his ill-gotten gains? Or did he have millions stashed in a suitcase under the bed?"

Celia laughed uproariously. "Now you're really kidding, Chief. How could I find out stuff like that?"