Cat On The Scent

41

Rick Shaw's ashtray overflowed with butts. As he absentmindedly put a live cigarette into the deep tray, the whole mess caught on fire, a miniature volcano of stale nicotine and discarded ideas.

Coop, laughing, trotted to the water cooler, filled a cup, and dumped the contents onto the smoldering ashtray. She had prudently carried a paper towel with her to clean up the mess.

“Goddammit!” He stood up, knocking his chair over backward.

“You set the place on fire, not me, grouch.”

“I didn't mean you. I meant me.”

“Boss, you take these cases too personal.”

“I liked Tommy. I like Mary Woo. Hell, I can't even find out who burned her shop down, and she's too upset to remember anything to do with her records. Or maybe too scared. Yes, I take this personal.” He parodied Cynthia's incorrect English.

“Come on, let's go home.” She pointed to the wall clock.

It was two-thirty in the morning.

“No. Not yet.”

“Your wife probably forgets what you look like.”

“Right now that's good. I look like a vampire reject. One more time.” He pointed to the map on the table. “What do these properties have in common?”

“Nothing that I can tell. They aren't connected. They aren't on major roadways or potential road expansions. They aren't in the path of the beltway that the state threatens to build but never does. Just looks like speculation.”

“Land speculation ruined Lighthorse Harry Lee.”

“And plenty more.” Like Rick, Cynthia knew her history—but most Virginians did.

Before schools became “relevant,” teachers led you to the facts. If you didn't study them willingly they simply pounded them into you. One way or the other a Virginian would learn history, multiplication tables, the Queen's English, and manners. Then a child would go home for more drilling by the family about the family, things like: “Aunt Minnie believes that God is a giant orange. Other than that she's harmless, so be respectful.”

“God, I'm tired.” Rick sighed. His mind was wandering. He sank back in his chair.

“Roger.” Cynthia rubbed her eyes.

“Let me review this again. Mrs. Murphy brought you the map. Dropped it right at your feet.”

“Yes.”

“Harry had never seen the map?”

“No. Boss, I told you exactly how it happened. Mrs. Murphy walked outside and returned with the map. She was quite deliberate about it. She didn't give it to Harry. She gave it to me.”

“If we ever go to court, what do we say? A cat gave us evidence?”

“Sure looks that way.” Cynthia smiled. She genuinely liked her boss.

“Let's keep this out of the papers. I can't bring myself to drag the pussycat into the glare of publicity. Where did she find it!”

“We've gone over this. Behind the post office? Near the house? In the bomber jacket? The map could have been dropped anywhere. But wherever it was, Mrs. Murphy found it.”

“Why would she bother to pick it up?” He threw his hands in the air.

“Because cats love paper.”

“Next you'll tell me she reads.”

“That one, I wouldn't be surprised.” She pulled the coroner's report over to her one more time and thumbed through it. “Guess you have to release this.”

“Yes. It confirms he was killed on the night he disappeared. And I guess I'll have to release the fact that he was loaded with cocaine. They'll have a field day with that one.”

“You need some sleep before facing reporters again.”

“I need a lead. A clear lead.” Rick pounded the table.

“We can start visiting these land parcels.”

“Yep.” He rose, sighed, and clicked off the bright, small desk lamp. “You're right. We both need sleep.”

They waved to the graveyard-shift dispatcher.

The cool night air, bearing a hint of moisture, smelled like fresh earth.

“Night, Rick.”

“Coop?”

“Yeah?”

“Think H. Vane is in on the drug trade?”

“We don't know if Tommy was dealing. We only know he was full of the stuff.”

“That's not what I'm asking.”

“H. Vane loves a profit.” She turned up her collar.

“H., Tommy, Blair, and Archie took flying lessons. I questioned Ridley, too, but he wasn't in the club for long. Makes sense.” He sighed. “Well, let's both get some sleep. Then we can drive over the land marked on the map.”