The Cat Who Went Bananas

Chapter 5

On Sunday Qwilleran was a willing guest at an impromptu dinner party, the purpose of which was to empty the Rikers' refrigerator. Mildred Riker was the food editor of the Moose County Something; her husband, Arch, was editor in chief — and a longtime friend of the `Qwill Pen' columnist. The couple had made a sudden decision to close their house at the lake and return to winter quarters in Indian Village.

When Mildred called Qwilleran with the invitation, she said, `After Labor Day the cottagers start moving out, and the shoreline gets bleak. If you don't mind helping us clear out the refrigerator . . .’

`Always glad to be of assistance,' he said quickly. 'I'm very good at emptying refrigerators. How many courses do you think you can squeeze out of the old box?'

`Five, at least. I called Polly, but she's not available. I called the Comptons, too. Lyle is out of town, but Lisa will be here. She can tell us all about the rare books they've found among the ESP donations.'

When Qwilleran arrived, the day was sunny enough and the breezes balmy enough to permit cocktails on the deck overlooking the lake. Arch was serving drinks.

He was comfortably middle-aged - and plump from too much good eating. Mildred was plump and pretty. Toulouse, the half-starved stray they had rescued, lounged on the top rail of the deck. Now he was plump, too.

'Where's your wandering husband?' Qwilleran asked Lisa.

'He had to leave this morning for a three-day seminar in Saint Paul.'

Arch said, 'I wish I had his job! He gets all these out-of-town trips, paid for by the county, and we never notice any improvement in the school system. Makes you wonder what they do in Saint Paul.'

'May I quote you?' she asked sweetly.

Qwilleran found Lisa friendly but authoritative, like a school principal on vacation. She dyed her hair. Lyle was a humorous grouch who was having a hard time saving his. When anyone asked them about their home life, Lisa would say, 'We have a lot of fun. I don't let him get away with anything.'

Qwilleran said, 'Too bad Lyle can't he here today; I had planned to honour him with a limerick.' He handed Lisa an index card with the following lines:

A school superintendent named Lyle

Runs the Moose County system with style.

He teaches teachers to teach,

And he makes a good speech

Pity his disposition is vile.

His wife screamed, 'He'll love it! He'll have it framed for his office!'

Arch complained, 'How come no one ever writes a limerick about me?'

'I tried,' Qwilleran said. 'I've been trying for years! But you're not a hiker or a biker, and the only other rhyme for Riker is piker.'

Then Qwilleran asked, 'Does anyone know the Bill Turmeric who writes witty letters to the "Vox Pop" page?'

'Lyle knows him,' Lisa said. 'He teaches English in the Sawdust City system.'

Mildred said, 'He recently maintained that "Go!" is the shortest sentence in the English language.'

Qwilleran objected. 'In our family, "No!" is equally short and to the point. The problem is, no one pays any attention.'

Then Mildred told Lisa she looked wonderful since volunteering for the ESP.

'Thank you. I'm so inspired by the challenge, I feel rejuvenated . . . especially when we find we've been given books worth as much as five thousand dollars.'

'How did you discover them?'

'The K Fund put us in touch with a rare-book dealer in Chicago, who told us what to look for, like: important author, first edition, autographed, and, of course, good condition. We sent him a list of candidates, and he appraised them. Several are worth five hundred dollars, and a few are worth much more.'

Arch said, 'You'd never get me to pay five hundred for a book!'

'But hon,' his wife protested, 'you paid that much for a rusty piece of old tin!'

'That was a primitive piece of folk art with a provenance, and it was an auction for a good cause!'

Qwilleran said, 'ESP promotes literacy, and that's a good cause.' Then he added slyly, The more people who learn to read in Moose County, the more newspapers you sell!'

`I need another drink,' Arch said. 'Who's ready?'

`Hon, I'm about to serve now,' Mildred said. 'Would you open the wine and feed Toulouse?'

Dinner began with a mysterious soup, followed by a mysterious casserole and another unidentified course called a savoury. The dessert was equally mysterious, but everything tasted good.

During the meal they discussed the new play, the two actors from Lockmaster who were so good, and the possibility that the show might run for three weekends - a local record.

Then Qwilleran asked, 'Has anyone heard that Alden Wade is taking a condo in Indian Village?'

`I doubt it,' said Lisa. 'He's been living at the Hibbard Guest House and is enthusiastic about it. Violet Hibbard is on the ESP board of directors, you know.'

Mildred said, 'I knew her in grade school. She was always serious, being an only child and accustomed to being with adults. She was an all-A student and made the rest of us look bad, so we were glad when she was sent to a private school in the East.'

`She's still serious,' Lisa said, 'but she's developed a kind of warm feeling for people. Maggie Sprenkle, her only longtime friend, says that Violet taught at an American university in Italy for a while, early in her career, and when she came home, she was a different person.'

`It's those Italian men!' Arch said.

`Oh, hon!' his wife protested.

Qwilleran asked, 'Did she never marry?'

No, and she's the last of the Hibbards,' Lisa said. 'They were never a large family, and the flu epidemic of 1918 wiped out almost a whole generation, according to Maggie.

`This is off the record, of course, but she donated most of the books that turned out to be rare.'

Arch asked, 'Can she take her donations as a tax deduction?'

`I believe so.'

`Do you have a record of who gave what?'

`Yes. The information is in the computer but not for publication.'

Mildred said, 'This is all so interesting!'

Lisa went on, 'Faulkner, Hemingway, Virginia Woolf, T. S. Eliot, Raymond Chandler, and Dr Seuss are among the valuable books we have . . . Strange to say, the Dr Seuss books seldom show up in the rare-book market. Is that because they don't survive family wear and tear? But we have The Cat in the Hat that didn't get chewed by a dog.'

`I'll take it!' Qwilleran said. 'Koko will sit on it to keep it warm. He knows a significant book when he smells one.'

Arch said, 'I hope all these valuable books are going to be kept in a safe.'

`We'll keep them under lock and key,' Lisa said, 'and show potential customers an inventory of what's available. And that brings up another thing: Violet spotted a wonderful antique jelly cupboard at Susan Exbridge's shop. It's priced at three thousand, but she'll give it to us for half price.'

Arch asked, 'What does a jelly cupboard have to do with books? If it isn't too dumb a question.'

Lisa explained, 'Families used to keep their home-canned goods locked in a cabinet. Don't ask me why. Susan's so-called jelly cupboard is big enough to hold over a hundred books in upper and lower sections. Both sections have locks.'

Mildred said, 'I've seen that in her shop! It's a handsome pine piece - elegant in its simplicity.'

`Exactly!' Lisa said. 'It would be the focal point of the ESP shop.'

Arch said, 'How come she's selling it for half price? She should give it to you for nothing. If you're afraid to ask her for it, send Qwill to twist her arm!'

`I second the motion,' Lisa said.

`I make it unanimous!' Mildred cried. 'He's good at twisting arms.'

Qwilleran huffed into his moustache. 'How soon do you need it?'

Not later than Wednesday,' Lisa said. 'One of our volunteers has a van, and he'll pick it up.'

Arch asked, 'Who's for an after-dinner drink?'

Qwilleran said he had to go home and feed the cats before they started chewing the rugs. Lisa wanted to get home before dark. The Compton beach house was a quarter mile down the shore, and she had walked over.

Qwilleran was only too happy to drive her home; he had a question to ask: 'Have you met Alden Wade? He has a strong presence onstage; what is he like as a person?'

`He's charming!' she said. 'And so helpful! Although he's hired to do specific things for the bookstore, he comes downstairs to ask if he can do anything for the ESP. And that's not all! A couple of weeks ago he brought me a long-stemmed red rose in a bud vase and told me to watch it open day by day. He said it's inspirational! . . . Then I found out that he gave Polly one! And also Violet, his landlady! I think that was very sweet of him, and it makes me think he's lonely.'

Or he's covering all the bases, Qwilleran thought. Then he wondered why Polly had not mentioned the rose during one of their nightly phone chats. And he speculated about the rumour that Alden Wade was buying Unit Two. Perhaps he had looked at it just to please Polly. Perhaps she had suggested it!

`Well, thanks for the lift, Qwill,' Lisa said, 'and while you're here, let me give you a copy of our rare-book list. Tell me if you want to buy the Dr Seuss for Koko.'

He drove home and found two hungry cats looking aggrieved because their dinner was late.

`Sorry!' he said. 'But wait till you see what Mildred has sent you!'

The square plastic box contained not only the leftover casserole for the Siamese but a few items for human consumption: cookies, dinner rolls, apples, and two bananas past their prime.

Qwilleran divided the mysterious casserole between the two dishes under the kitchen table and stood by to observe their rapturous gobbling. Instead, they sniffed their plates and walked away, flicking their tails in irritation.

`Please!' Qwilleran protested. 'You're entitled to your opinion, but this is going too far!'

He knew they would gobble Mildred's delicacies as soon as his back was turned.

Later that evening Qwilleran sprawled in his favourite thinking chair and considered Susan Exbridge, the individual whose arm he was expected to twist.

He jerked to attention for a moment as he heard Koko's gut-wrenching howl that had come to be known as his 'death howl'. More likely, he decided, it was evidence of catly indigestion following the mysterious casserole.

Susan Exbridge was a character, no doubt about it! She amused him with her pretensions and affectations, and he enjoyed teasing her and scolding her occasionally. He could get away with it because of his connection with the K Fund.

Susan had a great respect for money. In Pickax she was considered a snob. She received a goodly amount of alimony, bought her clothes in Chicago, and drove a status car. Her shop, Exbridge & Cobb Fine Antiques, was so high-toned that locals were afraid to enter - except to hurry to the annex, where the primitives were kept, huddled together like poor relations. They were the collection of the late Iris Cobb, who had left them to her partner. Mrs Cobb's extensive library of books on antiques now filled the shelves in Susan's office, although Polly said Mrs Exbridge had never read a book in her life. There was a slight clash of personalities here, no doubt exacerbated by Susan's custom of greeting Qwilleran with an effusive 'dahling'.

Now he had to convince her to donate the jelly cupboard to a good cause. The K Fund could contribute it easily, but the idea was to teach Susan a lesson in community involvement.

The easy way would be to storm into her shop and say, 'Susan! I hear you're selling Mrs Cobb's jelly cupboard to the ESP! Isn't that rather shoddy business? After all, it was Mrs Cobb's, and you didn't pay a penny for it! Your rich friends are donating five-thousand-dollar books! Surely you could manage a three-thousand-dollar jelly cupboard . . . You know, you can take it as a tax deduction.'

A confrontation would be easy and effective but too obvious. He would prefer something more subtle, even devious.

Then he thought of the Moose County method of making things happen: spread the rumour and, before anyone knows, it's a fact.

He phoned Polly Duncan. First he listened patiently to the details of organizing her winter wardrobe. Then he described the impromptu dinner she had missed, adding, 'And by the way, I heard some surprising news! Susan Exbridge is donating a three-thousand-dollar cabinet to the ESP!'

`I can't believe it!' Polly cried. 'She never gives anything away! And she always referred to Eddington as "that dreadful little man". How do you explain it, Qwill?'

`Hard to say. You might check it out with some of your sources. It's certainly good news - if it's true.'

'I'll make a few calls right away. Hang up, dear! Thanks for letting me know . . . A bientôt!

A bientôt.

Qwilleran hung up with satisfaction. In the morning he would visit Susan's shop and congratulate her.

Having plotted the jelly cupboard strategy to his satisfaction, he tuned in WPKX and heard a bulletin that snapped him to attention: a fatal car accident at the Black Creek bridge at eight-fifteen P.M. That was the precise moment that Koko had uttered his ominous howl. It had nothing to do with feline indigestion: it was Koko's death howl. Qwilleran had heard it many times before. It always signified wrongful death. The victim's name was not released in the bulletin.