Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 17 Who Blew The Whistle

"No, but it must have been a lot. Eddie's money was tied up. They argued. Benno shot his dog for spite. Then, one night in a bar, the lights went out. Benno pulled a knife. Eddie tried to get it away from him. He didn't mean to kill him - "

"Oh, Tish, I feel so sorry for you! I wish I could do something to help. What can I do?"

"Nothing. It just helps to have someone to talk to. You've been so good to us, Celia."

"Are you going to do anything about Eddie's confession?"

"I don't know. I can't think straight."

"But Nella should be arrested, if she plotted the murder and stole the money. Where did they bury the body?"

"Eddie tried to tell me, but he couldn't get it out. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he was gone." (Convulsive crying.)

"There must be something I can do to help you, dear."

"I don't know. I just want to get on that plane and never come back."

"Could I handle the funeral arrangements for you?"

"Would you? I'd be so thankful."

"Do you need me at the house this afternoon?"

"No, I'll be there, getting Mother ready for the trip. She's never been on a plane. I haven't either. Wouldn't it be ironic if it crashed in the Atlantic?"

"Oh, Tish! Don't say that!"

"The Trevelyan curse!" (Wild laughter.)

As the tape ended, Qwilleran realized the meaning of Koko's eccentric behavior in recent weeks. The first hint of something wrong was the cat's unusual vigil at the front window; he sensed impending evil!

The day after Audit Sunday, Qwilleran recalled, Koko performed his ominous death dance on the coffee table - specifically circling the scandal headline on the front page of the paper. After that, he became a cat possessed. While Yum Yum pursued wads of crumpled paper and collected paper clips, Koko was infatuated with black pens, duck decoys, the wooden whistle, the brass paperweight, and other significant items. The three-headed dog may have been symbolic of the three felons involved in the Lumbertown fraud and its bloody aftermath. (On the other hand, Koko may have found the sharp edges of the paperweight useful, Qwilleran had to admit.)

Then the question arose: Were Eddie's deathbed accusations only hallucinations? Did Nella really mastermind the plot? Dwight Somers had seen "scruffy characters" knocking on her door; both Eddie and Benno fitted that description. Did Nella urge Eddie to move to Indian Village and into her own building for devious reasons? She was nothing less than gorgeous, everyone agreed, and the unkempt high school dropout from Sawdust City could easily have fallen under her spell.

Qwilleran's eye fell on the wooden whistle that someone had knocked off the coffee table for the twentieth time. Perhaps Nella herself tipped off the auditors; that would account for the neat timing of the scheme. She juggled the books; she plotted the murder; she blew the whistle and collaborated with the auditors; she made the phone call that lured Floyd to the fork in the road, where he parked his car and met a pickup truck with two carpenters, one with a hammer and one with a shovel. His disappearance was intended to confirm his guilt, and it fooled everyone - except Koko.

Qwilleran looked at his watch. It was late, but not too late to call the police chief at home. "What are you doing tomorrow morning, Andy?" he asked, after some teasing about late-night X-rated TV movies.

"Taking the wife shopping" was the gruff reply.

"How about driving over to the apple barn first, for half an hour?"

"Business or social?"

"Business, but I'll have coffee waiting for you."

"Oh, no, you won't! I'm not ready to have my hair fall out. I'll bring a nontoxic take-out from Lois's."

"What time?"

"Nine o'clock."

On Saturday morning Koko knew something was afoot. While eating his breakfast, he kept looking over his shoulder and listening. When Brodie arrived, he was not in uniform, and Yum Yum kept staring at him.

"What's the matter with her?" Brodie asked.

"She's looking for your badge."

Qwilleran had been wondering how to report his information to the police chief without naming his collaborators: a pleasant gray-haired grandmother and an intuitive cat. He began by enlisting Andy's sympathy. "Polly's in the hospital," he said morosely. "Heart attack."

"How bad?"

"I phoned this morning, and she's out of danger. It was a shock, although I should have seen it coming. Too much stress and not enough exercise."

"You've gotta look after that lady, Qwill. She's an asset to the community. Why don't you and Polly - "

"Never mind," Qwilleran said. "You can go and play your bagpipe at someone else's wedding."

The two men sat at the breakfast bar with their coffee and some doughnuts from Lois's.

"How's the Lumbertown investigation coming along?" Qwilleran asked.

"To tell the truth, I think they've run out of places to look for that guy."

"It's my opinion that he's right here in Moose County - underground."

"You mean - hiding out?"

"No. Buried."

Brodie swallowed a gulp of coffee too fast and coughed. "What makes you think so? Have you been conversing with your psychic cat?"