Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 17 Who Blew The Whistle

Carrying a bunch of fresh daisies, Qwilleran went to the hospital and found Polly sitting in a chair, looking remarkably serene. She was feeling fine, she said. She was looking forward to the catheterization; it might be an adventure. The hospital food was better than she expected. Dr. Diane was a dear young woman. The cardiologist from Lockmaster was most encouraging.

There was a sparkle in Polly's eyes that Qwilleran had not seen for several weeks, and finally she said, "I have a subject to broach to you, dear. I hope you won't be offended."

"You know I'm offense-proof where you're concerned, Polly."

"Well, I believe that this little setback of mine is a message from the fates that I should not build a house; Bootsie and I should move into the Duncan homestead with Lynette. That is, if you think I can dispose of my two acres and a half-finished house."

"No problem," he said with a sigh of relief.

-17-

It was mid-September, and in Moose County the vicissitudes of summer were simmering down. Most vacationers had left; children were back in school; and the new college reported excellent enrollment for its first semester.

Polly Duncan, who had been flown to Minneapolis for coronary bypass surgery, was convalescing at the Duncan homestead. She claimed to feel better than she had in years! Bootsie was enjoying his new diet, running up and down stairs, and losing weight.

The Pickax Arts Council hoped to move into its new gallery and studios by Thanksgiving. Thanks to the generosity of the Klingenschoen Foundation, they had taken over the unfinished house on Trevelyan Road. References to the legendary curse were avoided.

Celia Robinson received a postcard from Switzerland: Florrie was improving, and Tish had met an interesting ski instructor.

Word was circulating on the Pickax grapevine that Mr. Q had been seen in Scottie's Men's Store, being measured for a kilt.

As for the Lumbertown scandal, the body of Floyd Trevelyan, buried under concrete, had been disinterred, and Nella Hooper replaced him on the wanted list. It seemed odd to Qwilleran that the law enforcement agencies, with all their technology and expertise, had failed to find this spectacularly good-looking woman. Earlier they had found her and let her go after questioning. Now they had the video of the Party Train, in which she appeared several times. And yet... It was Arch Riker's theory that the lawmen weren't trying hard enough, and he wrote an editorial to that effect. Anything that happens 400 miles north of everywhere, he argued, is of lesser importance to the establishment Down Below.

Then, quite by accident, Qwilleran uncovered a new clue. Following the final matinee of A Midsummer Night's Dream, theatre club members were invited to an afterglow at the apple barn. Among those present were Fran Brodie, the Lanspeaks, Junior Goodwinter, Derek Cuttlebrink, Elizabeth Hart, and Jennifer Olsen, who was becoming the club's leading ingenue. The Lanspeaks inquired about Polly's health. Derek demonstrated his exuberance by climbing the loft ladder straight up to the third balcony. Fran reminded Qwilleran that he had promised to read her playscript and give an opinion. He apologized for overlooking it.

Derek, having brought his guitar, also volunteered to sing a new folksong, titled The Wreck of Old No.9:

There was once a famous hoghead On the old SC&L. His name was Ozzie Penn, And he could drive a hog through hell! But he had to give up drivin' 'Cause they said he was too old. They retired him with a dinner And a watch of solid gold. "You've survived your share of train wrecks "In fifty years," they said. "Now go home and join the lucky ones "That get to die in bed."

Chorus: "No, I want to go out whittlin'," Said good old Ozzie Penn. But they said his dreams were over, And he'd never drive again. He hung around the switchyard And told hair-raisin' tales: How he made the fastest runs And kept the hog upon the rails. Then one day he saw a vision That made his old eyes shine. On a siding east of Mudville Sat old Engine No. 9 The great steam locomotive, A mighty 4-6-2, Had a tender full o' coal And - by Crikey! - looked like new.

Chorus: "I want to go out whittlin'," Said the famous engineer. There was nobody to see him Wipe away an old man's tear. He rounded up his buddies And said, "Let's have some fun! "Let's take the whole dang consist "Por one last whittlin' run! "You fellas gotta jump "Before we hit the final curve. "So don't sign on with Ozzie "If you haven't got the nerve." With a crew of three old-timers And fifty deadheads, too, They left the yard at Mudville To make Ozzie's dream come true.