Please Do Feed the Cat (7 page)

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Authors: Marian Babson

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‘I don’t care!’ Abruptly, she shrugged herself back into her normal persona. ‘I can buy more. Plenty more!’ She whirled away, snatched up her shoe and dashed up the stairs. A door slammed defiantly.
‘Macho …’ Lorinda began tentatively.
‘That woman is poison!’ Freddie was not prepared to be discreet. ‘You’ve got to get rid of her!’
‘I can’t.’ Macho would not meet their eyes. Roscoe gave a protesting squeal as Macho clutched him tighter. ‘Don’t you see? I can’t!’
He turned unseeingly and blundered into his study. The door slammed behind him, too.
A strong smell of burning greeted them as they opened the back door into Freddie’s kitchen. Had-I and But-Known trotted forward, uttering loud complaints and recriminations.
‘Oh, no – the muffins!’ Freddie caught up a pot-holder and swung the oven door open. A dark cloud eddied out and swirled around the kitchen, setting them coughing.
‘Ruined …’ Freddie mourned, backing away from the smoke and bending down for a better look. ‘They’re not actually alight, though.’
‘You’d better let everything cool down a bit,’ Lorinda warned as Freddie reached for the pan. ‘And find another pot-holder – you’re going to need both hands.’
Had-I added an observation of her own, which might have been helpful if translatable.
‘There are no two ways about it …’ Freddie abandoned the oven and turned to brewing a fresh pot of coffee. ‘No matter what Macho says, that woman has got to go!’
‘Well, you heard him. He couldn’t have been more definite that she’s staying.’ Lorinda attempted to change the subject. ‘The muffin tin isn’t ruined, too, is it? It looks a bit warped and out of shape.’
‘I don’t know what sort of hold she has over him,’ Freddie would not be diverted, ‘but we’ve got to break it!’
‘How?’
‘I’m working on that. We’ll think of something.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Lorinda noted the shifting pronoun. ‘And doesn’t Macho have any say in the matter?’
‘He’ll be relieved,’ Freddie said airily. ‘I don’t believe he even likes her any more.’
‘Then why does she still have a hold over him?’
‘Mmm, good question. Blackmail, perhaps?’
‘Macho?’ Lorinda had to laugh. ‘He’s the most law-abiding person I know. What could she blackmail him about? Now, if it were Dorian …’
‘I take your point, but don’t forget that blackout Macho claims to have had the night he and Cressie went out on the town. Something could have happened then.’
‘Claims?’ But it was just within the bounds of possibility. Either it was a genuine blackout, or something terrible had shocked him so deeply that he had blanked it out and was in denial. But Cressie remembered … perhaps had evidence …
‘You’re getting the picture.’ Freddie had been watching her face.
‘No!’ Lorinda shook her head. ‘No, I’m not going to believe that. It’s only one possible explanation.’
‘How many others can you think of?’
‘You were here at the time. Were there any media reports of scandals or sinister goings-on that they might have been involved in?’
‘Not that I noticed.’ Freddie shrugged. ‘But I wasn’t looking. Whatever it was, it happened in London. If it was just one of the usual drunken brawls, it wouldn’t even make the papers. Especially if there were no fatalities.’
‘Or it could have been hushed up if there were important people involved,’ Lorinda said thoughtfully. ‘Politicians … or royalty.’
‘Politicians, maybe,’ Freddie agreed. ‘But somehow, I can’t quite see Our Cressie hobnobbing with royalty. Much as she might like to.’
‘True, they’re not very bookish. She’d have better luck there if she were working with horses.’
‘Then there’s the editor Cressie was plotting revenge on.’ Freddie had another thought. ‘Their rocks couldn’t reach the twelfth floor, but perhaps Cressie persuaded Macho to
go back later and set fire to the building. Even if no one was hurt, the charges would be arson and criminal damage, at the least.’
‘Mmmm … and that would fit in with those hazy memories of people shouting “Let’s get out of here!” Still …’ Lorinda shook her head. ‘No, I can’t imagine Macho – even dead drunk – doing a thing like that.’
But-Known appeared to decide that a perfectly good lap was going to waste and leaped up nimbly to settle across Lorinda’s knees. Had-I continued to circle Freddie, not giving up hope that something edible might yet be forthcoming.
In the other room, the telephone began to ring.
‘Forget it!’ Freddie sent an impatient glance in that direction. ‘I’ve had enough for today. Whatever that is, I don’t want to know about it.’
With a sound like a hiccup, the phone stopped in midring as the answering machine cut in.
‘Freddie —’ if you’re there, please pick up the phone. Please. It’s urgent!’ The voice, barely recognizable, was ragged with desperation.
‘I knew I didn’t want to know.’ Freddie continued to pour the coffee. ‘I suppose the publishers haven’t sent the books she ordered, or sent the wrong ones. I wish she’d. learn to complain to them and not bother us.’
‘Freddie, it’s Jennifer – at the bookshop. If you’re not there at the moment, then come round to the shop whenever you get in. Please. As soon as you can. The situation is urgent! Almost out of control – No! No, please! Don’t do that —’ The connection was severed abruptly.
‘That doesn’t sound like a mis-shipment to me.’ Lorinda stood quickly, sending a loudly protesting But-Known. tumbling to the floor.
‘Oh, all right. I suppose we’d better get over there.’ Freddie was curious herself. ‘But, I warn you, I’m not up to chasing shoplifters down the High Street.’
 
 
At first, the shop looked deserted. The neat window display was undisturbed and no customers browsed inside. No Jennifer was in sight, either. They entered cautiously.
‘No bodies littering the floor, at any rate,’ Freddie declared, looking around.
‘Perhaps she’s in the back room.’ Lorinda started forward, still checking for anything that might be out of place.
The large round ball of pale grey fluff curled up beside the till certainly wasn’t. As she paused to look behind the counter, it raised its head and blinked pale blue eyes at her.
‘Hello, Misty.’ She stroked the silky fur and a friendly rumble returned her greeting. A happy contented cat, nothing had upset her recently.
‘Over here.’ Freddie spoke softly from the doorway to the back room. ‘Someone’s in here.’
‘Is it —’ Lorinda found herself tiptoeing over to the doorway to the darkened room. A darker figure could be dimly discerned slumped in an armchair in the corner, surrounded by packing cases.
‘Jennifer …?’ Freddie called softly. ‘Is that you? Are you all right?’
‘Don’t turn the light on!’ Although they were hoping to hear it, Jennifer’s voice startled them. ‘I have a raging headache.’
‘We came as soon as we could.’ Freddie pushed the door farther open so that more light filtered into the storeroom. ‘Is that all that’s wrong?’
‘No, of course not. I mean …’ Jennifer sat up, the damp cloth across her forehead falling into her lap. ‘I mean, I’m sorry I disturbed you. It … it was a false alarm.’
‘Alarm about what?’ Lorinda wasn’t going to let her off that easily. There had been a tremor of genuine fear in her voice as she pleaded for Freddie to come over quickly.
‘It was silly, really, but I panicked. I saw Gemma and her cousin coming along the street with the dogs and, for an
awful moment, I was terrified that they were going to come into the shop.’
‘Why shouldn’t they?’ Freddie asked.
‘The dogs did seem a bit boisterous today,’ Lorinda said, ‘but I don’t think they’d have bothered Misty.’
‘Nothing bothers Misty,’ Jennifer said. ‘The problem was that Adèle Desparta was already in here.’
‘Who?’ Freddie looked at her blankly.
‘Adèle Desparta …’ Lorinda frowned, something about the name seemed to ring a dim and distant bell.
‘Dorian’s guest. Haven’t you met her yet?’
‘She’s only just arrived, hasn’t she? I saw a station taxi heading towards Dorian’s just a little while ago. There hasn’t really been time to meet her.’
‘Perhaps not for you,’ Jennifer said bitterly, ‘but she was around here before she bothered to unpack. I’ll bet Dorian put her up to it. She couldn’t have known where the bookshop was. He probably drew her a map.’
‘But why?’ Freddie was still puzzled.
‘Because he’s been furious with me ever since I included his last book in the remainders sale. He wanted to make trouble.’
‘Nothing new about that,’ Lorinda observed. ‘Personally, I blame Dorian for everything that’s happened this past year.’
‘No, I mean, why don’t you want her in the shop?’ Freddie persisted.
‘I don’t mind her coming in here,’ Jennifer said wearily. ‘And I don’t mind Opal – even though she rearranged my table display to give her book more prominence. But Adèle actually knocked Opal’s pile of books off the table while my back was turned – and she tried to blame poor Misty! As though Misty would do a thing like that!’
‘Never,’ Lorinda agreed. Bookshop cats were all expert at threading their way through stacks of books and even leaping from pile to pile without disturbing a thing.
Prrreow?
Misty appeared in the doorway, drawn by the sound of her name.
‘No, I didn’t call you, darling,’ Jennifer told her. ‘I was just talking about you and what a good girl you are. Not like some humans I could mention.’
‘We’ve spoiled you, Jennifer,’ Freddie said. ‘The rest of us are so civilized we wouldn’t dream of behaving like that.’
‘Well, why should you? You have no reason to. You all write different books with your own separate characters.’
‘And they don’t? Wait a minute …’ A distant memory was flickering at the edge of Lorinda’s consciousness. Somewhere in the depths of her unexplored souvenirs of the trip was a stack of business cards she had accumulated in her travels. ‘What name did you say?’
‘Adèle Desparta – and she’s in direct competition with Opal Duquette. They’re both doing a history-mystery series with Bess of Hardwick as their character!’
‘You’re right!’ Freddie whistled softly. ‘Competition doesn’t come any more direct than that.’
‘I knew I’d met the author of the Bess of Hardwick mysteries in New York!’ Lorinda felt vindicated. ‘I’ve even got her business card in my collection. But Gemma said I couldn’t have because Opal had never been to New York.’
‘That explains why you didn’t want them both in the shop at the same time.’ Freddie got down to practicalities. ‘But what did you think we could do about it? And how long do you think you can keep them apart? They’re bound to meet sooner or later, the village isn’t that big.’
‘I don’t know – I thought you could be a buffer zone, or something. I told you I panicked. And I don’t care where they meet, so long as it’s not here!’ Jennifer seemed to be feeling better. ‘You should hear the way they talked about each other! I wouldn’t like to see them in the butcher’s shop, either. The hatchet, the cleaver – and all those long sharp knives lying around …’ She shuddered.
‘Trust Dorian to get us into a situation like this,’ Freddie said.
‘Dorian couldn’t have known that Gemma would have
her cousin to visit at the same time.’ Lorinda defended him, although she wasn’t sure he deserved it.
‘Couldn’t he?’ Freddie quirked an eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t put it past him.’
‘Anyway …’ Neither would Lorinda. ‘He said she’ll be going all over the country doing her research. She may not be here very much.’
‘We can but hope.’ Freddie did not sound very hopeful. ‘We have enough on our hands right now. All we need is another complication.’
The rest of the week passed quietly – and without the expected summons from Dorian to any sort of soirée to introduce his guest. In fact, Dorian appeared to be lying low – and there was no further sighting of Adele Desparta, either.
‘Just as well,’ Freddie said. ‘We can use a quiet interlude before the fur starts flying.’
Prreoh?
Had-I appeared to take the comment personally.
‘No, not yours.’ Freddie offered her a small prawn and then, to preserve the peace, gave one to But-Known. She reached automatically for a third, then sighed. ‘Poor Roscoe, it’s brutal to keep him under house arrest all the time. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him recently?’
‘Not since that nasty trick Cressie played. And I haven’t seen Macho, either.’
‘I’m not wasting sympathy there, he brought it on himself.’
‘Actually, I haven’t seen anyone lately.’ Lorinda wasn’t going to go over that one again. ‘I’ve finally finished all my unpacking and I’ve been getting some work done.’
‘Good for you.’ Freddie turned to poke moodily at a saucepan on the electric ring. ‘Are there supposed to be lumps in this curry
before
I tip the prawns in?’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’ Lorinda went over to look. It was not only lumpy, it was a peculiar colour, too. And the smell … ‘Where did you find this recipe?’
‘In a very Olde Englishe cookery book. So old I didn’t even know what some of the ingredients were, so I took a
guess and improvised.’ She gave the evil-looking mixture another stir and admitted, ‘It may have lost something in the translation.’
‘Mmm …’ Lorinda hesitated, trying to find a delicate way to phrase her suggestion. ‘I, uh, think my stomach is still a bit jetlagged. Why don’t we just pop over to The Chipper and get some fish and chips?’
‘I don’t know,’ Freddie said reluctantly. ‘It seems like giving up.’ She picked up the bowl of prawns and held it over the saucepan of alleged curry.
Both cats immediately yowled a horrified protest. Lorinda caught her arm and pulled it back.
‘All right, all right, I get the message.’ Freddie set the bowl down on the floor instead and stepped back as the cats dived in. ‘I suppose you shouldn’t waste good food. And —’ she scraped the contents of the saucepan into the waste disposal unit, ‘you can’t win ’em all.’
 
 
The Chipper Haddock lurked at the bottom of a turning just off the High Street, masquerading as an Olde Worlde tavern. The spotlighted inn sign swinging above the entrance portrayed a large fish, standing upright on his tail, sporting a bow tie, holding a walking stick in one elongated fin and tipping a straw boater to the advancing customer with the other. Rumour had it that the proprietor had originally intended that the whole should be in neon lights, with the boater being tipped in animation – until the village had risen up in outraged protest. They wanted no neon signs polluting the village atmosphere. An uneasy compromise had been reached with the spotlight, and some villagers still held a grudge against the proprietor for his temerity. It didn’t stop them from patronizing the restaurant though: he fried a very good fish.
They paused outside the divided entrance for a brief debate as to whether they wished to turn left for the counter service and order a takeaway to bring home, or to
turn right into the low-beamed, dark-panelled dining room and take their meal there.
‘Aaah, well met by moonlight, dear ladies!’ a voice boomed from behind them. ‘Or it would be, if there were any moonlight. How delightful to see you again. Since we obviously have the same aim in mind, may I join you?’
‘Please do.’ As one and without a consulting glance, they turned right and preceded Professor Borley into the dining room. It was a lot easier to leave a restaurant when one chose, than to try to dislodge a dinner guest at home who was able to ignore any number of hints.
‘This is most fortuitous,’ Professor Borley said, after they had settled themselves at their table and ordered. ‘I had intended to get in touch with you in the next few days, if our paths hadn’t crossed before then.’ He was looking straight at Lorinda.
‘Mmm …’ she said absently. No doubt about it, this village was too small. Even if it succeeded in expanding into full Town size, it would still be too constricted for its inhabitants to avoid each other.
‘Damn!’ Freddie said under her breath. Lorinda followed the direction of her gaze to find that Cressie had appeared in the entrance and was looking around, thus proving her point. She averted her gaze hastily, but it was too late. Cressie had spotted them.
‘I haven’t seen you lately …’ She came over and hovered pointedly behind the remaining chair. ‘Are you expecting anyone else?’
‘No, no, please join us.’ Professor Borley responded to the hint. ‘Is Macho with you? We can always pull up another —’
‘He won’t be coming.’ Cressie’s face was grim as she sat down. ‘He’s too busy working – or so he says!’
‘We’re all working,’ Lorinda said smoothly. ‘We have a lot of catching up to do.’
‘That’s because you’ve been away’ Cressie said. ‘He doesn’t have any such excuse.’
‘Perhaps he just likes to meet his deadlines.’ Freddie’s
voice was innocent, but everyone knew that there had been rumours about the length of time it had taken before Cressie’s last book had been published.
‘What are you doing here?’ Cressie counter-attacked. ‘I thought you did all your own cooking.’
‘Every cook is allowed a night off,’ Lorinda said, before Freddie had to confess that tonight’s recipe had been a disaster.
The waitress appeared, distracting Cressie’s attention. While she was ordering, the door opened again and two more customers came into the restaurant.
‘We should have eaten the curry,’ Freddie muttered. ‘Or at least scrambled a couple of eggs.’
‘Lorinda! Freddie!’ Dorian greeted them with such enthusiasm that it was apparent that he had been having a difficult time with his house guest. ‘And a vacant table for two right beside yours! We
are
in luck!’
Actually, there was a vacant table for two on each side of their table for four. Dorian took the one on the farther side.
‘We don’t want to sit right next to the door,’ he said. ‘It keeps opening and the night air is getting a bit chill. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.’
‘You’re right, I have far too much to do in the next few weeks to risk a cold,’ Adèle Desparta agreed. She smiled vaguely at the others, then frowned. ‘Don’t I know you? Forgive me, but I meet so many fans.’
‘We met at a Mystery Writers of America meeting in New York,’ Lorinda said.
‘You two may know each other, but the others have not yet had the pleasure.’ Dorian performed the introductions, adding, ‘Adèle does the popular series starring Bess of Hardwick Hall.’
‘But that’s —’ Cressie broke off, with the sharp intake of breath and the widened eyes of the suddenly-kicked. Freddie smiled innocently.
‘An honour and a pleasure, ma’am.’ Professor Borley
bowed, unaware of sudden undercurrents. Obviously, he had not yet encountered Gemma’s Cousin Opal.
They had reached the restaurant just in time: the dining room was filling up and, beyond the mullioned window panes, Lorinda could see a queue forming for the takeaway. Yes, The Chipper Haddock was a small goldmine, flashing neon sign or not.
‘I believe the Specials of the Day are chalked on the blackboard.’ As Dorian twisted round in his chair to read them, he had a clear view of the doorway.
Fascinated, Lorinda watched the colour drain out of his face before she, too, turned to see what he was looking at.
Gemma and Opal Duquette had just entered and were peering about for a table. The only vacant table for two was right beside theirs. Raising her hand in happy greeting, Gemma led the way to it.
‘Isn’t this nice?’ She took the seat against the wall and Opal sat with her back to the room, but facing Adèle Desparta if she looked beyond Professor Borley and Cressie. Neither of them had noticed the other yet.
‘Why didn’t we take the wall seats?’ Freddie mourned. ‘Then our backs would be protected when the knives start flying.’
‘Be thankful it’s a traditional fish restaurant,’ Lorinda murmured back. ‘Fish knives are too blunt to do much damage.’
‘Want to bet? They’d manage to scoop each other’s hearts out with a soup spoon, if they got the chance.’
‘Just one big happy family,’ Professor Borley declared to Gemma in happy obliviousness. ‘That’s the best part of living in a small place like this, we’re all friends and neighbours.’
Cressie looked from one face to another. Freddie shot her a warning glance and, for a wonder, she recognized it and kept her mouth shut. Her eyes were avid, though.
The waitress bustled about with menus and order pad. Everyone smiled vaguely and politely at each other.
Dorian engaged Adele in conversation. Gemma pointed out antiques scattered around the dining room to Opal. Professor Borley ordered more wine and saw that everyone was served. Cressie remained watchful but, thankfully, silent.
‘I can’t stand it,’ Freddie muttered. ‘It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.’
‘The first one hasn’t dropped yet,’ Lorinda said. ‘Do you suppose …’ The idea was coming to her gradually. ‘Is it possible they don’t recognize each other?’
‘Could be …’ Freddie risked a look at both unconcerned faces. ‘If they’ve never met before. And you know what authors are for using twenty-year-old photos on their jackets.’
‘And lots of paperbacks don’t have the author’s photo at all,’ Lorinda said. ‘So, if no one introduces them …’
‘Thank God the English are so bad at introductions. We may just get away with it.’
‘Oh, good!’ The waitress had reappeared with a large tray and began dealing out the heaped plates of fish and chips. ‘I suggest we eat and run.’
‘Especially run!’ Freddie squeezed her quarter of a lemon with force. ‘Oops, sorry!’ Juice had squirted across the table at Cressie.
‘
Quite
all right!’ Cressie’s eyes narrowed as she wiped them. Clearly, she did not believe it was an accident. Freddie would pay for this later.
Just one big happy family. Dorian was simultaneously bolting his food and trying to keep Adele too engaged in conversation to speak to anyone at adjoining tables. He’d have indigestion tonight – and serve him right!
‘Oh, no!’ She’d be lucky if she didn’t have indigestion herself! Jennifer Lane had just walked in and was heading towards their tables.
Lorinda tried to catch her eye, making little shooing-away gestures. Unfortunately, Jennifer mistook them for a welcoming wave.
‘Room for one more?’ she asked cheerfully before she
looked at the end tables and her smile faded. ‘No, perhaps not.’ She began backing away.
Too late. ‘Plenty of room!’ Professor Borley assured her happily. ‘Pull up a chair at the end. In fact, we ought to push these tables together and make things more sociable.’
‘That does it!’ Freddie said. ‘I’m leaving!’ But it was too late for her, too.
‘Yes,
do
join us,’ Gemma cooed. ‘If I move over, there may even be enough room on the settee.’
‘Come over here, Jennifer!’ Adèle ordered. ‘Dorian, get her a chair!’
‘No, really, it will be much too crowded,’ Jennifer protested. ‘I’ll just go next door to the takeaway. I was planning to, anyway, only I saw you through the window … some of you …’ She was floundering. ‘That is, I saw Lorinda and Freddie … and Dorian …’ She darted nervous glances at the rivals, who had been sitting with their backs to the windows. She hadn’t seen them.
‘I don’t see any chairs.’ Dorian had not turned round to look. ‘In any case, I have to get home, I’m expecting an overseas call. She can have my chair.’
‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ Freddie murmured.
‘Nonsense!’ Adèle wasn’t going to let Dorian get away. ‘They can call back. I’m not ready to leave yet. I want to have a nice chat with Jennifer. I’ve thought of several things she can do to improve her shop.’
‘I don’t think – ’ Jennifer began.
‘That’s quite obvious,’ Adele cut in. ‘Your layout is much too cluttered. It looks as though you just dumped the books in a pile wherever they happened to be when you unpacked them. Furthermore, you’ve given far too much display space to general fiction. With so many mystery writers in this area, you should devote more space to them.’
‘I’ve enlarged that section three times since everyone began moving here,’ Jennifer defended. ‘And —’
‘And you’re wasting a great deal of space with that non-fiction
section. If people want to read non-fiction, they can go to a library’
‘It’s a very popular category —’ Jennifer began.
‘Don’t just stand there and take it!’ Freddie lost patience. ‘Start telling her what’s wrong with her books and how she should be writing them.’
‘There is nothing wrong with my books!’ Adèle turned to face this unexpected attacker, training her guns on Freddie. ‘I might, however, be able to tell you what’s wrong with yours – if I had ever heard of you!’

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