Zeus mewed sweetly in reply. Tatania was deaf but it seemed like she could hear. Both had an appreciation for delectable sea bass. The fisherman cut some of it for the pair and put it on butcher paper. Then he gently laid it on top of a makeshift table where he’d been working. He knew Tatania really didn’t care for eating on the floor.
The fresh fish was delicious. And the memory of the woman who had tried to drown her when she was a kitten was receding, with the fear of the ocean. Jack, her human, had saved her. And Tatania knew she was exactly where she should be and doing exactly what she wanted to be doing.
It was the time of night when laughing children disappeared from Tent City’s Merry Go Round, replaced with amorous couples, women in sparkling dresses of beads, satins, sequins and stones.
Jack pulled a strand of Grace’s dark bobbed hair back from her face. “You look more beautiful everyday.”
“Or every night? Or every pint?” Grace hadn’t truly become accustomed to compliments. But she felt eager to learn.
“You’re the most beautiful detective I know,” Jack played with a strand of Grace’s dark bobbed hair.
“I’m the only female detective you know.”
“Isn’t that a relief?” He asked.
Tatania meowed again. Priorities were seriously off here. Humans focused more on each other than her.
“Tatania’s a brilliant detective,” Grace said, reaching to pet Tatania’s silky fur and reminding Tatania why she chose to accept Grace when she came to live with her and Jack. Tatania had known when she found a nice human male that it would only be a matter of time before a human female showed up and wanted to live with him too.
Grace twirled her strands of pearls. She wore a diamond and emerald green ring from Jack over black opera gloves that matched her head band.
They could hear the Tent City Band playing “Ain’t we got fun.”
Jack smiled. “Yes, and sometimes we have grammar too.”
Jack wore a tuxedo.
“You look like the cat’s meow.” Grace rubbed his arm.
“You just think I’m cute now because I’m dressed in black and white like your favorite cat, Zeus.”
They could hear radios from adjacent cottages. Their days seemed to begin and end with the sound of the radio. Will Rogers’ voice resonated that all was right with America. Babe Ruth’s winning streak seemed like it would never end.
A banner hung on the front of Hotel del Coronado announced the charity ball for WWI French orphans put on by the San Diego Stockbrokers Club. Grace and Jack attended because they supported French war orphans. Losing her inheritance to a Ponzi scheme left a bitter taste for brokers in her mouth. And Jack was a flyboy veteran who flew his own way in life. The only advice he tended to listen to was his own. And occasionally Grace if she was naked at the time.
Two men sat on white chairs outside the Hotel del Coronado, smoking cigars.
“Stock is gambling.”
“No, old chap, in gambling you can lose.” The other one replied, chortling.
They walked past Tent City’s butcher shop, with its display of hanging meat, and cottages with names like Dew Drop Inn, Barely Inn, and ingenuously enough, Jack’s Place. Most of the cottage was empty. He had two books left, a well loved collection of William Butler Yeats’ poems and The Great Gatsby.
“It may not be as popular as This Side of Paradise. It’s still the cat’s meow.” Jack waited for Tatania. Standing there, Tatania reminisced about moving in with Jack. Before Grace, and then Zeus, arrived, the two of them had been enough. Still, her new home had glorious bay windows, sunny spots with views, she saw no reason to be sentimental over this one.
She led the way to their new home, pausing to stop and look at the sea once. Olga, the Palmist came out of her cottage and stood next to the sign, that read, “Your Hand is Your Destiny”
“I’ll miss you.” Zeus and Tatania wound through her legs. Olga looked at Grace and Jack like they were moving to another continent instead of merely across the street.
“We’ll be across the street.” Grace reassured her. The lights from Olga’s cottage caught the sequins on Grace’s dress, creating sparkles like fairy dust. Grace seemed ethereal in the night, not quite feline but nearly as graceful.
“And you’ll come to our housewarming party.”
“When will that be?”
“We don’t know. But you’ll be invited.”
They held hands and waited for the cable car to pass through the middle of the street. Tatania paused and stared at the ocean again. Then she sprinted ahead, not stopping until they were in front of their Lalique double doors. She amused herself by swiveling her ears three times, becoming invisible, and walking through on her own.
Zeus clawed a tree in front of their new house, marking it as his. Jack stopped. He put the book down on the porch swing, and picked Grace up, carrying her across the entryway.
He carried her up the circular staircase, pausing to admire the Baccarat chandelier he’d had flown in from Paris as a surprise. The light caught the chandelier, Grace’s dress and earrings, and the cats wound impatiently around Jack’s feet, chasing the light.
“It’s a way to help France rebuild after the War. We can order Baccarat.” He paused, and looked back towards the kitchen, “The house that Wentworth and Brewster built.”
“Are you happy you left Pinkerton to start an agency with me?”
“Absolutely.”
Grace smiled, kissing his neck. He smelled like the sea.
“I supported France here too,” he said walking into their bedroom where an eighteenth century marble fireplace was lit across from an art deco bed with a headboard that looked like a geometric seashell. Black and white, with a duvet the cats quickly claimed for their own.
“Bees Knees.” Grace looked out the window at glistening Glorietta Bay.
“Your dresses always look good on the floor,” he said, putting her down and unzipping her dress. He reclined back on the bed, pulling her to him.
Chapter Two
Tatania walked carefully back and forth before the jeweled Art Deco mirror in her new home. She stuck a paw out carefully, confirmed it was her reflection, then stuck another one out in front of her. Zeus, her black and white tuxedo companion, saw another cat and went bounding up to the mirror to play. Tatania blocked Zeus with her body before he hit the mirror.
Finally, they were in their own home. Not going back and forth between the female human’s room at the Hotel del Coronado and the male human’s cottage at Coronado Tent City. Now they were living in splendor with a view of Glorietta Bay and mere steps away from the mansion built by John D Spreckels.
Her human male was laughing at some gibberish the human female was saying. He’d been a lot happier since they’d met her.
Grace heard a knock at the door.
“Ignore it,” Jack said, kissing her.
The knocks grew louder.
“Let me make sure Zeus and Tatania are okay.” Grace got up. Jack followed her. The cats were both meowing.
Jack opened the door. Annie Knickerbocker, in matching ostrich feather dress and headband, stood there with a silver tray of petit fours.
“Dear, you need petit fours. I thought you hadn’t had time to pick up food for your new home. It looks beautiful.” She walked through the entryway.
“Annie, it’s the middle of the night,” Jack said.
“Dear, it’s the 1920s. Nothing interesting happens before two a.m.”
The phone rang. Grace answered it, pulling the receiver up and away from its candlestick holder.
“Wentworth and Brewster.”
She listened for a few minutes and then covered the candlestick speaker and whispered to Jack, “He’s lost his wife.”
“Does he remember where he left her?”
She threw a petit four at him.
“We can meet with you. Where are you?” Grace picked up a box of housewarming invitations they hadn’t sent out yet and wrote on it.
“He lives in Bankers Hill. Said he was working late and came home and she was gone. Wants to see us now.”
“A new case. Smashing. I’m going back to the Del.” Annie kissed Grace on both cheeks and left.
Jack didn’t move.
“Come on, Jack. Your humidor isn’t going to stock itself. And the cigar budget comes after dresses and cat food in priority.”
Tatania meowed loudly. She led the way outside and climbed in the comfy back seat of their Studebaker. Jack drove them down Orange Street, illuminated by the moon, to the ferry from Coronado Island to downtown San Diego.
Tatania enjoyed ferry rides. When they arrived at the ferry dock to San Diego, Tatania jumped out, and took the best seat, stretching out horizontally across it.
“What a beautiful cat.” A woman with an ostrich feathered headband reached to pet her.
“Can we get her some tuna? Maybe a sandwich?” She touched her husband’s shoulder.
“Please, Dear. She might be famished.”
He got up and went to the snack bar and ordered a sandwich. Tatania was sitting in his wife’s lap when he returned.
With Tatania delicately sniffing the wax paper wrapped sandwich, he pulled it apart and pulled tuna out with a finger. Tatania accepted a bite. She nuzzled his hand to say thank you. She needed to keep her strength up when she worked cases. She never passed up an opportunity for tuna, salmon, or sea bass.
Chapter Three
The President was predicting a final triumph over poverty in America and she was looking at a bare cupboard. Her teeth hurt. He had whacked her across the jaw this morning. Even if he’d left her any food, or money for it, it would have hurt to chew it.
The kitten was crying. She kept looking through the cupboards. He’d emptied the cereal boxes and poured gasoline over the cereal. She felt the cereal, hoping she could find something uncontaminated. She wouldn’t take the chance on feeding any of it to the kitten. Her stomach rumbled. She ignored it.
She picked up her wrist purse and found a saltine cracker on the bottom that he hadn’t noticed when he took her money. He hadn’t even left her change. “You won’t be able to earn your own money. You’re modeling days are over. You’re twenty-five.”
She put some fresh water in the bowl and mashed the cracker, picking up the kitten, spoon feeding her. The radio played “Nothing but Blue Skies From Now On.” She held the kitten closer.
When the kitten fell asleep, she put her down gently on the bed and began packing. She could only fit a few things in her bag. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself with a suitcase.
She stared at the radio still spewing forth nothing but positive predictions. Maybe the radio was right. The first stop to eradicating her poverty was to take it to the pawnshop. But ladies didn’t go to pawnshops. The image of the empty cupboard propelled her forward.
Her kitten wasn’t going to go hungry. And he was never going to touch her kitten or her again. Or maybe she’d pawn his gun. The one he liked to wave around in front of her to intimidate her.
She didn’t know what she would do for a place to stay. She couldn’t stand her mother. And even if she wanted to stay with her, she didn’t have the fare back to Connecticut. The kitten meowed.
“You’re right,” Cecile said, looking at the cat, “Meow or never. Lets blow this joint.”
She picked the kitten up and put him in the large shopping bag with papers she would carry out with only a few clothes and a gun. If things got too heavy, she’d get rid of the spare clothes. Just keep the cat and the gun.
Scents of warm, fresh bread wafting out from the bakery downhill, made her hunger more acute. The kitten purred in his sleep, certain and secure that she’d figure out what to do. The purr soothed, vanquished anxiety.
She had only a little time before he’d notice she was gone. Lately, she’d wanted to upchuck whenever she heard his voice. The image of being crushed beneath his boot came back to her. She grabbed the bag and envisioned herself rolling away, and walked out the door.
Chapter Four
Bankers Hill met the inherent need of those who made money to move uphill and look down on everyone else. Chester’s house offered a view of downtown San Diego. Balboa Park, adjacent to it, and boasting architecture built for the 1915 Panama California Exposition, might be free, but looking down on it came only with wealth.
A manservant opened the door. Chester towered over him in the entryway.
“My wife’s missing,” he said to Grace and Jack, by way of greeting, twisting the wedding ring around his finger. He looked down as if he thought she’d appear, rising from the ground.
He smiled at Grace. She felt uncomfortable. He stared too long.
Tatania rubbed her cheek against Grace’s Mary Jane pumps. The cat had been uncharacteristically clingy since they entered his home.
“Maybe she’s still out shopping. Some of the shops stay open late now.” Jack suggested.
“No. She wouldn’t spend money without my permission.”
“Anything missing?”
“My gun. I think someone may have taken my wife at gunpoint.” He kept wiggling his wedding ring.
“Have you called the police?”
“Yes. They think it’s too early to act. I’ve heard you’re efficient and discreet. The cops think my wife may have just left. Impossible, I’m very happy. I mean, we’re very happy.
You’re the best detectives in town. That’s what I’ve heard in speakeasies,” he said.
“We’re not arguing with you,” Jack replied.
Tatania swivelled her ears three times and became invisible. She went to a bedroom and picked up the scent of a kitten. The scent of a human, different from the male, and a kitten. She smelled fear.
“We’ll require payment in advance,” Jack said.
“Money’s no object. Just get my wife back here quickly.”
“Can you describe the gun?” Jack asked.
Grace thought he was going to say wife not gun. Grace looked up at the framed picture of a striking blonde with long hair. Grace felt surprised. She’d become accustomed to seeing women in bobbed hair.
“It’s a beauty. Colt and Wesson. My first gun.” He blinked.
He pulled out a large leather checkbook from a Biederman desk. With a hand shaking slightly, he wrote a check and handed it to Jack.
“I’ll give you a picture of Cecile. He dismantled the frame and glass and with a slight flick of his wrist, flung the picture of the striking blonde towards Jack. He caught it.
“I have experience catching good looking girls,” Jack said.
Tatania inspected Cecile’s closet. Ostrich feather headbands lay on the top shelf. In one leap, Tatania landed on the top shelf. She sniffed it carefully. She needed to memorize Cecile’s scent for tracking. Zeus followed her inside and climbed up a satin dress.
“Did you leave claw marks in that?”
He looked away.
“Have you checked with her family?” Jack asked Chester.
He shook his head. “We’re not on the greatest terms. Her Mom was the only in her family who wanted us to get married. We eloped to Maryland. I don’t know if she still speaks with them.”
“When did you elope?”
“Eight months ago.”
“When did you get to San Diego?”
“When I got tired of shoveling snow.”
“And she wanted to move with you?”
He looked offended. Zeus returned, jumped up on his lap, extending a paw, and distracting him. Grace hoped he wouldn’t notice that Tatania was missing. She was certain Tatania was off investigating.
Tatania swivelled her ears three times, became visible, and nonchalantly strolled back in the room. She stopped and checked the ticker tape.
“Is your cat buying stock?”
“I wish she could tell us what to buy. Do you work from home?”
“Sometimes. I got a ticker tape for the house because the stock market rises earlier than me.”
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“Like a cat,” Grace said.
“I’m rough around the edges. Grace is a Finishing School Dame.” Jack explained as he drank from a flask. Grace sipped tea from a delicate cup the manservant brought to her.
“Your wife has lovely taste.” Grace admired their Wedgewood China.
“Did you honeymoon in Europe?”
“No. Cecile is terrified of boats. She’s afraid of drowning. Lost a cousin on the Titanic. I offered her a honeymoon in Europe. She didn’t want it. I give her everything.” He twisted his wedding ring nervously round his finger again.
Tatania, usually friendly, and fond of antiques, kept a distance from him. She brushed up against Jack’s legs. When Jack moved, she meowed. He picked her up.
“Most detectives don’t look like you,” Chester looked at Grace.
“It’s the pearls.” Grace laughed, twirling her strands of Chanel pearls. She walked quickly to the door ahead of Jack with Tatania leading the way.
Chester’s manservant opened it.
“So now we’re getting referrals from drunks? He heard about us in a speakeasy?” Grace whispered when the door shut.
“Don’t knock my friends and family,” Jack whispered back.
“Chester gave me the jitters. I don’t like him. He kept staring at me.”
“I would stare at you.” Jack opened the door of his Studebaker for Tatania and Grace.
Tatania climbed on Grace’s lap and meowed. Grace looked in the same direction as Tatania. He was watching them from his window.
Grace waved. Chester didn’t wave back.
“She left him. There’s something off about him,” Grace whispered to Jack.
“Dames leave guys with that much money?”
“Sometimes. And the guys find it unacceptable. Like losing at the track.”
“We’ll go to our favorite speakeasies. We can at least buy a few drinks to say thank you for the referral.”
“Bees Knees. Jack, he doesn’t give her anything. He controls the money. He was a little too vociferous about being generous with money. Actions speak louder than words,” Grace said when they were out on the street again.
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