No Cooperation from the Cat (28 page)

There was a sharp
ping,
as of a spring giving way under the accumulated weight on the other sofa. Perhaps one of the harpies had shifted as a prelude to rushing to Banquo’s aid. If so, the look on Mick’s face would have changed her mind. It was not the moment for anyone to draw attention to themselves.

Curiosity killed the cat
. Oh, no, no, not that! Drawn by the atmosphere in the room, and perhaps the smell of blood, Cho-Cho had crept out from under the sofa to come and see what was going on.

She was directly behind Mick now, sniffing at his heels
. My only consolation was the thought that he couldn’t shoot her without shooting himself in the foot. And he wasn’t quite that crazy. I hoped.
But he was crazy—
and now bloodlust had set in. He stared at the blood running down Banquo’s face as though mesmerised. A cold vicious smile curved his lips.

“Yes…” He aimed the gun at Banquo. “Yes…” He had reached the point where he was hyped-up enough to begin shooting. He took a step backwards for a better shot.

“MRREEOW!”
He’d stepped on Cho-Cho and stumbled. Furious at this treatment, she wrapped herself around one ankle, digging in claws and teeth. I watched transfixed as my cuddly little geisha cat turned into a battling Samurai warrior.

On one leg and trying to shake her off the other, Mick swayed, perilously. The gun, already cocked, let off a fusillade of shots.

Deafened by the gun, I barely heard the crash of breaking glass. Banquo dived to the floor and began crawling towards the door.

Between the recoil from the gun and the attacking Cho-Cho, Mick had tumbled to the ground, still trying to escape those deadly little teeth and claws. They turned into the least of his troubles when the Avenging Furies swept down on him. Try to kill their precious Banquo, would he?

Valeria sent a vicious kick to his head, Isolde jumped on his stomach.

“Are you all right, dear?” Edytha ran to Banquo, still on his hands and knees, halfway to the door. “You weren’t shot?” She inspected him closely. “The flying glass didn’t cut you? Speak to me—”

“I was just going to get help.” He mumbled his alibi feebly.

“Don’t bother,” Evangeline said. “I’ve got Ron on speed dial—”

She pulled the cell phone from her pocket. “We’ve been broadcasting since Mick pulled the gun—”

“That was why you were shouting so.” Now it made sense.

“He should be here any minute,” she said smugly.

“Let me up…” Mick groaned. “Get these nuts off me…”

“Nuts…” Valeria moved to kick him again, this time in the spot he had carelessly reminded her about.

He howled and doubled up—as much as he was able to with Isolde kneeling on his stomach.

Click—click
 …
click
 … Tom’s camera was going to be red-hot at this pace.

“Wait! Wait!” Banquo scrambled to his feet and rushed over to elbow Valeria aside.

“Get this, Tom!” he shouted, placing one foot on Mick’s head and adopting the traditional Great White Hunter pose.

“The blood—all that blood—” Edytha protested, trying to mop at it. “You must look your best.”

“Leave it!” He pushed her away. “Get down, Isolde. Out of camera shot!” She obligingly flattened herself across Mick’s body, keeping him pinned down.

Click
 …
click
 …
click
. “Great!” Tom called enthusiastically. “Now look down at him—”
Click
. “Now, chin up and look at me—”
Click.
“Smile—just a little—job well done, smile—”
Click
.

They were all mad. Outside, a police siren wailed closer, then stopped abruptly, as though someone had realised that the sound might set off the massacre they were trying to prevent.

“Got enough?” Banquo asked. Mick was beginning to stir, moving his head too much under the not-so-firm foot.

“I think so, but I need to reload. You can relax in a minute. We’ve got some great stuff.”

“Yes.” Banquo was complacent. “I thought so. It should make a great frontispiece. Probably the cover.” He looked to Jocasta. “What do you think?”

Jocasta turned away in revulsion, clinging to Nigel and burrowing her head into his shoulder. Nigel’s arms tightened around her and across his face spread the amazed and gratified look of a man who has achieved his greatest ambition against all the odds.

“Urrgg…” A deep groan from Mick signalled that he was regaining consciousness. “Take them away … make them leave me alone … I want to get up…”

“You stay where you are.” Evangeline looked at him coldly.

“So we were wrong to think Frella might have killed Teddy because she came back to the scene of the crime,” I said.

“Unlikely as it seems, the woman has a sentimental streak,” Evangeline said. “She was just saying good-bye to him.”

I shivered, not just in sympathy. I was cold. In fact, we were all cold—and increasingly damp. I looked across to the few shards of glass still clinging in the window frames, no impediment to the wind and rain at all.

“Oh, heavens—Jasper!” I gasped.

“I hope his insurance is up to date,” Evangeline said.

“He’s going to be furious, anyway.” I stated the obvious.

“So he is.” We gazed at each other thoughtfully. “You know, Trixie, I think we owe ourselves a little vacation after all this. Get away for a bit while the repairs are being done. Warmth, sun, blue skies … I have some business I really should see to in California—”

“I’m not sure I want to go that far—” I began. California was another world, another life, away from everything I cherished now. Cho-Cho finished cleaning and grooming herself and strolled over to reclaim her place in my arms.

“Mother, there was something I wanted to tell you before all this—” Martha cast a disparaging gaze over the confusion as Ron and his colleagues began hammering at the door. Jocasta fled to answer it, Nigel so close they might have been glued together. My mind began turning towards wedding presents …

“Mother, are you listening?” Martha called me to order. “This is important. They’re going to close the children’s school for two weeks. So many teachers are down with the flu that it’s easier to close than to try to carry on. I’ve booked a holiday for them in Croatia, where the au pair comes from, but I’m afraid she may have too many distractions in her hometown to look after the children properly. And I can’t get away right now—”

“I’d love to!” I could see where she was heading and I cut to the chase. “It sounds wonderful. Wouldn’t you rather come along, Evangeline, than go to California?”

Evangeline sniffed and went to greet Ron as he entered with his team, all looking around uneasily.

“It’s all right,” Evangeline told them. “We have the situation under control now.”

“So I see.” Ron surveyed the scene glumly. “Can’t you ever control a situation without resorting to mayhem?” He stared at Mick’s bloodied face.

“It wasn’t us, Ron,” Evangeline protested. “It was them.” She swept out a hand indicating the Graces. “I swear it was.”

“I believe you.” He leaped suddenly to pry Valeria’s fingers from Mick’s throat, where her thumbs were digging into his windpipe with deadly intent.

“Please, Madam.” He lifted her to her feet. “Not in front of us. We’d have to charge you with grievous bodily harm.”

“He was going to kill us—all of us!” Valeria blustered “It’s self-defence!”

“He’s in no condition to harm anyone right now.” Ron nodded to one of his men, who advanced to handcuff the semi-conscious Mick. “Get him to the station and have the medics ready to check him out.”

“Where are the press?” Banquo demanded, striding over to us. “That man killed my wife! He admitted it. I want to make a statement to the media!”

“We’re not the army. We don’t have journalists embedded in our units.” Ron’s assessing gaze correctly pinpointed Banquo as a first-class publicity hound. “No doubt they’ll be along … eventually.”

“Eventually!” That wasn’t good enough for Banquo. “But I’m ready now!”

“In that case, we’ll take your statement now … sir.” Ron nodded to his team again and another man moved forward, notebook in hand.

“I have nothing to say to
you
.” Banquo drew himself up stiffly. “I speak to the
world
!”

“Banquo, dear—” Edytha advanced on him, scarves fluttering in the icy wind blowing in through the broken window. “You’re overwrought. Traumatised. This has been such an ordeal. To discover such treachery, such disloyalty—and in people you trusted with your life.” Her glance swept from the doorway through which Mick had been assisted to encompass Jocasta, obviously including her among the traitors.

“We must take you home, where you can rest properly.” Edytha patted his arm consolingly. “We can call a press conference for tomorrow.”

“Yes … yes,” Banquo murmured, taking his cue. “Then I can tell them how I single-handedly rescued my friends and family from the clutches of a crazed gunman and avenged my precious wife.”

With a long-suffering look, Ron blocked their path as they started for the door.

“I wouldn’t advise telling anyone that nonsense,” Evangeline said crisply. “Try it and we’ll hold a press conference of our own and tell the ‘world’ what really happened.”

“Never mind the world,” Ron said. “Suppose you start with me.”

“You know what happened,” Isolde said. “Banquo just told you.” The three Graces had surrounded Banquo, protecting him, imprisoning him. “Now let us pass.”

“People tell me a lot of things,” Ron said wearily. “But I haven’t heard from everyone yet.”

“You can’t expect to hear any truth from
them!
” Valeria sneered at us. “They hate poor Banquo.”

“No,” Jocasta corrected her. “We just despise him.”

“Oh!” Edytha clutched at her heart. “How can you, of all people, say such a dreadful thing.”

“She speaks for all of us,” Martha said. “And Tom was busy with his camera all through this nightmare. So we have a photographic record to prove what actually happened.”

“No!” Isolde screamed in denial.

“Sneak!” Valeria exploded at Tom. “They’re all sneaks! Not one of them can be trusted!”

“Monstrous!” Edytha was clutching at her heart even more dramatically. She was going to find bruises in the morning.

A piercing whistle cut through the uproar—Ron was calling us to order.

“Right!” he said. “We’re all going back to the station. You will be kept apart and interviewed one at a time.”

The Graces burst into a torrent of protests.

“Sounds all right to me,” Evangeline said cheerfully.

“At last we’ll be warm again.” I held Cho-Cho closer. “And those pictures will give Cho-Cho the proper credit for distracting Mick at the crucial time.”

“Come along…” Ron’s team were herding the others into line.

Chillingly, I saw that they were automatically lining up in the order Mick had assigned to them. His influence had been stronger than anyone had realised.

Click.
And, even now, Tom was still recording everything. He deserved the success that was waiting for him.

ALSO BY MARIAN BABSON

Only the Cat Knows

The Diamond Cat

Nine Lives to Murder

Death Swap

A Fool for Murder

Death Warmed Up

Dangerous to Know

The Lord Mayor of Death

Cover-Up Story

Please Do Feed the Cat

To Catch a Cat

Tourists Are for Trapping

Paws for Alarm

Murder at the Cat Show

In the Teeth of Adversity

The Company of Cats

The Cat Who Wasn’t a Dog

The Cat Next Door

Canapés for the Kitties

Whiskers and Smoke

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

NO COOPERATION FROM THE CAT
. Copyright © 2012 by Marian Babson. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.minotaurbooks.com

The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

Babson, Marian.

No cooperation from the cat : a mystery / Marian Babson.—1st ed.

       p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-312-33240-2 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-250-01317-0 (e-book)

1.  Dolan, Trixie (Fictitious character)—Fiction.   2.  Sinclair, Evangeline (Fictitious character)—Fiction.   3.  Cats—Fiction.   4.  London (England)—Fiction.   I.  Title.

PS3552.A25N6 2012

813'.54—dc23

2011040884

e-ISBN 9781250013170

First Edition: March 2012