by Adele Abbott
“Okay then, but just the one.”
“Who is Robert Hymes?” Mrs V had noticed the name on the book.
“That’s Jack’s pen name, isn’t it, darling? He’s too modest to publish under his own name. Off you go, Jack.”
Resigned to his fate, he began to recite one of Rhymes’ masterpieces. The only thing more painful than the poem was the expression on our visitors’ faces.
When he’d finished, Jack said, sheepishly, “It isn’t very good, I’m afraid.”
“Nonsense.” I clapped. “That was excellent. Why don’t you read another?”
“Actually.” Mrs V got to her feet. “We should be going.”
“Already? But you’ve only just arrived. Why don’t you listen to Jack read some more?”
“We’d love to, but I left the oven on, didn’t I, Armi?”
“I thought we were going to pick up a—”
“It’s been lovely seeing you both.” Mrs V grabbed Armi by the hand and dragged him to the door. “But we really must be going.”
Once they’d left, I dissolved into laughter. It was only when I’d managed to wipe the tears from my eyes that I realised Jack wasn’t sharing in the hilarity. He was staring at me stony-faced.
“I imagine you think that was funny?”
“Come on, Jack. Surely you can see the funny side.”
Chapter 26
“Morning, Mrs V.”
“Morning, dear. I hope you didn’t mind us barging in on you like that last night?”
“Of course not. Armi seemed very pleased to see the cuckoo clock.”
“He was. He enjoys seeing people getting pleasure out of his creations.”
“And you both seemed to enjoy Jack’s poetry reading.” As witnessed by their speedy departure.
“Err, yes, it was—err—very—err—”
“Enjoyable?”
“That’s right. Very enjoyable indeed.”
“He’s so very talented that husband of mine. I’m sure I could persuade him to read you some more of his work if you’d both like to drop by again sometime.”
“We are very busy at the moment. What with the house hunting and everything. Maybe later in the year.”
“Of course. He’s quite a slow writer, but he may have some new work for you to hear by then.”
Winky was unwrapping a long, narrow parcel.
“What have you got there?”
“My telescope of course.”
“I’d forgotten you’d ordered that. How did it get here? I didn’t see the postman.”
“By FelEx.”
“Don’t you mean FedEx?”
“I know what I mean. FelEx stands for Feline Express.” He lifted the telescope out of the box. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
“It’s very nice. What are you going to use it for?”
“I thought I might bake a cake with it.” He rolled his eye. “What do you think I’m going to use it for?”
“I know what a telescope does. I was asking what you’ll be looking at with it?”
“The sky of course.”
“Nothing else, I hope?”
“I’m not some kind of Peeping Tom if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“Can I take a look through it?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.”
“I can’t see anything. It isn’t working.”
“It might help if you removed the lens cover.”
“Oh yeah. I knew that. That’s better. It’s very powerful, isn’t it? I can see those flats across the road really clearly.”
“I told you it was good.”
“What are those two up to over there?”
“Oi! You were the one who said no spying on people.”
“I’m not spying on anyone. I just noticed those two cats on top of that building.”
“Here, let me see.” Winky nudged me to one side. “That’s Sid the Soot and Simon the Sweep.”
“Let me guess, they’re chimney sweeps?”
“Of course they’re not. Why would you think that?”
“I just—err, never mind. Why are they up on the roof?”
“They’re just drifters. They’re always moving around.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Only if they fall off.”
Thankfully, my phone rang and rescued me from that inane conversation.
“Is that Jill Maxwell?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Irene Sutherland. I promised to ring you today after I’d spoken to my brother.”
“Did you ask him who he’d rented the flat from?”
“Yes. His landlord was a company called Carmichael Properties. I asked him about the maintenance man too. Ron said that one called a couple of weeks before Carol was murdered. He remembers because he and Carol were having a shouting match at the time.”
“About what?”
“Nothing important. Just a silly squabble. Why did you want to know all of this stuff, anyway?”
“I wouldn’t want to raise your hopes, but your brother’s conviction and his wife’s murder follow a pattern that I’ve identified. My client’s case is very similar.”
“Does that mean you’ll be able to get Ron out of prison?”
“It’s way too early to be making promises. I’m not even sure I’m right about any of this.”
“Why don’t you take what you know to the police?”
“Because they wouldn’t be interested. Not without proof.”
“Ron can’t take much more of being locked up for something he didn’t do.”
“Please don’t go raising his hopes. Not yet, at least. It would do more harm than good.”
“When will you know if you’ll be able to help?”
“I can’t say for sure, but as soon as I do, I promise I’ll be in touch.”
This had all started out as a wild hunch on my part, but it was now looking as though there might actually be some mileage in it. The problem was, unless I could track down the itinerant Paul Hattersley, there was nothing I could do about it.
***
It was time to pay a visit to Cat City.
“Hi, I’m looking for Felix.”
“That’s me. Felix Le Chat at your service.”
“Le Chat? Isn’t that French for the cat?”
“Is it? I had no idea.” He laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Yes, it is but my real name is Felix Mouser.”
“Really?”
“No. I’m still messing with you. It’s actually Homer Schloemer.”
“I’m Kitty Sears. I rang yesterday.”
“I remember. So, Kitty, you said that you’re planning to open a cat café?”
“That’s right. In a few months’ time, if everything goes according to plan. I understand that you can provide cats specially trained for cat cafés?”
“Absolutely. That’s one of the things we do. How many were you thinking of?”
“I’m not sure. I was hoping you might give me some advice on that subject.”
“Assuming the café is a standard size—not too large—then ten cats is usually enough. You can always get more later if necessary.”
“I don’t suppose you have any cats here now that I could see, do you?”
“Absolutely. We actually have a dummy cat café set up at the rear of this building. We use it so that our cats are comfortable in that kind of environment. Follow me.”
He led the way into what did indeed look like a cat café—minus the customers. The room was huge and full of cats of all shapes and sizes.
“What do you think?” Felix spread his arms.
“It’s very impressive, but what about people? There are no customers in here, so won’t the cats freak out when they go into a real café?”
“We have that covered too. Although this isn’t a commercial café, it does open its doors once a day just for an hour, during which time we serve drinks and cakes at cost price. That ensures the cats get used to being around people.” He
checked his watch. “It’s due to open in about an hour, at midday. You’re welcome to drop by again then if you wish.”
“I might do that. What about the cost? How much do you charge per cat?”
“It varies according to the breed. Provided you don’t want a pedigree, then you can work on an average of two-hundred pounds per cat. Obviously, the pedigrees are considerably more.”
“Wow! I wasn’t expecting them to be so expensive.”
“You have to factor in that you’d be paying for cats that have experience of living in exactly the type of environment that you’ll be offering your customers. If you were to put any old cat in there, the results would be disastrous.”
“I guess so. Okay, thanks for showing me around. I might pop back later when the café is open.”
“I look forward to seeing you then.”
***
To pass the time until Cat City opened the doors to its cat café, I decided to call in at Aunt Lucy’s. I wanted to check she’d got over the shock of discovering the truth about her now ex-neighbours.
“I still keep getting flashbacks, Jill. What if I hadn’t woken and stopped Lester before he went next door? Who knows what might have happened to him?”
“But you did wake up, and he’s fine.”
“They seemed such nice young women too. It just goes to show you never can tell.”
“I guess the house will be back on the market again.”
“Yes, it’s a pity Jack isn’t a sup. You and he could move in.”
“No offence, but there’s no way I’d want to live that close to Grandma. Incidentally, Kathy has just bought herself a new house. It’s beautiful and much larger than where they’re living at present. I’ve been trying to persuade Jack that we should move house too, but he says we can’t afford it.”
“Maybe he’ll see things differently when you get around to having kids?”
“Maybe.”
The sound of paws on the stairs was followed by Barry crashing through the door.
“Are you here to give me my first lesson, Jill?”
“Sorry?”
“You promised you’d teach him to dance,” Aunt Lucy reminded me.
“I—err—I don’t really have much time at the moment.”
“Didn’t you just say you had an hour to kill before you went back to that cat place?” Aunt Lucy grinned.
“Please, Jill!” Barry pleaded with those big, sad eyes of his.
“Okay then. What about music?”
“I gave him a CD player,” Aunt Lucy said. “He wants to learn disco.”
“It just so happens I was quite the disco dancer in my day. I have all the moves.”
I followed the excited dog upstairs into the spare bedroom where he switched on the CD player.
“Okay, Barry, watch and learn.”
The track was a seventies disco classic, and I had soon lost myself in dance. Barry was staring at me open-mouthed, no doubt in awe of my moves.
“What’s that supposed to be?” The laughter knocked me out of my stride.
I paused the music and turned around to find Rhymes in hysterics.
“Is something amusing you?”
“I’m sorry, Jill.” He wiped the tears from his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything quite as bad as that.”
What a cheek! And after all I’d done for him. “I suppose you could do better?”
“I happen to be the reigning Tortoise Disco Dancing Champion.”
“Of course you are. Go on, then.” I restarted the music. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Much as it pains me to admit it, the tortoise certainly had the moves, but no one likes a show-off.
“Thank you, but we’ve seen enough.” I paused the music again. “If you don’t mind, I was in the middle of giving Barry a lesson.”
“I think I’d like Rhymes to teach me instead,” Barry said.
“A tortoise? You’re going to take dancing lessons from a tortoise rather than from me?”
“As long as you don’t mind. I don’t want to upset you.”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind. I’m very busy anyway.”
“Okay, thanks.” He switched on the music, and the two of them got down to the beat.
“How did that go?” Aunt Lucy asked when I got back downstairs.
“Really well. So well, in fact, that Barry said he won’t need any more lessons from me.”
***
When I’d told Felix Le Chat that I would be returning to check out Cat City’s cat café, I hadn’t been lying. What I hadn’t told him was that I wouldn’t be returning as Kitty Sears, or even as Jill Maxwell. Instead, I planned to return as my feline alter ego, Fluffykins.
What? I was more of a Fluffykins than Bruiser would ever be.
And like any experienced undercover cat, I had availed myself of a tiny surveillance camera, which was cleverly hidden under a fur patch. I had Winky to thank for introducing me to that particular invention.
After a quick check to ensure the camera was angled correctly, I slipped quietly into the cat café. I hadn’t been inside for more than a couple of minutes before—
“Hello, darling. I’ve not seen you in here before.” The black and white moggy gave me a wink.
“I’m new here.”
“I’m Roger. What’s your name, sweetlips?”
“Fluffykins.”
“What a lovely name. Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful whiskers?”
“Oh you! You’re just saying that.”
“I didn’t realise they were taking on more staff.”
“They just had the one slot free. I was lucky to get it.”
“Luck doesn’t come into it. I bet they took one look at you and offered you the gig on the spot.”
“What’s it like, working here?”
“Spot on. Best job I’ve ever had, and the money is amazing.”
“They did explain it in the interview, but to be honest, I’m still not sure exactly how all of this works.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. I’ll be only too pleased to talk you through it, and then maybe you and I can go for a drink later?”
“Maybe.”
***
An hour later, having reverted from Fluffykins back to Jill Maxwell, I paid another visit to Cat City.
“Hello again.” Felix greeted me with a huge smile and pound signs in his eyes. “Couldn’t you make it to the cat café?”
“Yes, I was there.”
“Oh? I kept a lookout, but I didn’t see you.”
“I have a couple more questions about the cats if that’s okay?”
“Of course. Fire away.”
“I realise this is just hypothetical, but what would happen if, just for argument’s sake, some of the cats got out of my café and made their way back here?”
“Back here?” He laughed, nervously. “That would never happen.”
“But if it did?”
“In the unlikely event that it should happen, we’d return the cat to you of course.”
“Would you charge me again?”
“For the same cat? No, why would we do that?”
“Then why did you charge my cousins again when their cats ran back here?”
“Sorry? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My cousins Amber and Pearl run Cuppy C. You recently supplied them with cats. Twice now in fact.”
“I thought you said you were—”
“Thinking of opening a cat café? Yeah, I kind of lied about that.”
“I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for this.”
“Maybe you’ll have more time to talk to the police.”
“Why would they want to talk to me? I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“I beg to differ. Take a look at this.”
I took out my phone and played the video I’d recorded earlier.
“Okay, Fluffykins,” Roger said. “This is how it works. We earn a basic hourly rate, which to
be honest isn’t all that great. But then we get a bonus every time we make a break for it and come back here.”
“Hang on.” Fluffykins’ voice could be heard off-camera. “Are you saying that we’re supposed to run away from whichever café we’re placed in?”
“That’s right. That’s where the real money is.”
“Sweet.”
“Exactly. Now, about that drink.”
“I don’t understand.” Felix looked suitably stunned.
“I think you do. That was one of your cats explaining how your little scam works.”
“Who was he talking to?”
“To me, obviously.”
“You were Fluffykins?”
“None other.”
“Have you called the police already?”
“Not yet, and I won’t provided that you agree to my terms.”
“What do you want?”
“First, you’re going to refund all the money that the twins have paid to you, and you’re going to do it today.”
“I don’t have that kind of money on me.”
“You’d better get yourself off to the bank, then.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll get their money.”
“And next, you’re going to shut down this scam.”
“But this is my livelihood; I’m good at training cats.”
“You can continue to supply cats, but you can’t incentivise them to run away. Once you’ve sold a cat, that’s it. And if one does make its way back here, you are to return it to its new rightful owner.”
“That’ll cut my profits in half.”
“Would you prefer to go to prison?”
“Okay. I agree. You’re a hard woman.”
Chapter 27
Getting to the bottom of the Cat City scam had got me thinking.
Lovely, Bruiser and at least two other cats had recently gone missing, and the disappearances had all occurred since the opening of Washbridge’s very own cat café. What if something equally sinister was going on right on my own doorstep? What if the owners of the Washbridge cat café had decided to cut costs by stealing cats?
I was on my way to pay them a visit when my phone rang.
“This is James Hattersley. You left a message on my voicemail. Something about my brother?”
“Thanks for calling. Do you know where I can find Paul?”