Cat of the Century

by Rita Mae Brown

  Thats why youre fat. Mrs. Murphy cast her green eyes at Pewters rotund tummy.

  I have big bones. Im not fat. Work has nothing to do with it.

  Harry knelt down and slipped an early edition of War and Peace off the bookshelf. The edges of books on the bottom shelves displayed Tuckers teething marks from when she was a puppy.

  The bookcase, which was floor to ceiling on either side of the fireplace, had been built by Harrys great-grandfather, a passionate reader, as was her mother. Many of the books they cherished remained exactly where Harrys kin had placed them. First editions of Faulkner, Steinbeck, Fitzgerald, were recent compared to the first editions of Surtees, Tennyson, and Dickens. Harry knew these books would fetch a pretty penny in New York City, but there were some things with which one did not part.

  Sandy McAdams and his wife, Donna, owned and operated Daedalus Bookshop at 123 Fourth Street NE, in the ever-expanding city of Charlottesville. Every now and then, Harry would wander in there, knowing shed kill two hours browsing, dreaming. Sandy, who had a flaming beard with streaks of gray, could be relied upon for a bracing discussion. Once shed asked him how people could part with such treasures, and hed replied that so often the love of a good book didnt pass to the next generation. When the book lover died, the family sold all the books; hence Sandys enormous inventory.

  In his raspy voice, Sandy had said, The Spanish have a saying, that when an old person dies, a library burns.

  That had stuck with Harry. Although she carried a fear of poverty, she vowed that no matter what financial blows life might deal to her, she would never sell even one book. She had also vowed to read every volume in the cases. On that, she was making slow progress. She had read War and Peace in her twenties. It was time to read it again.

  While Harry was giving in to the urge to read War and Peace instead of dusting the bookshelves or cleaning out the broom closet, Fair and Inez were driving up to Middleburg to see an injured mare who had been injected with her own stem cells. The tendon injury was healing rapidly, in only three weeks time. It was a miracle.

  The windshield wipers swept rhythmically left and right.

  What a counterpoint to the last three years of droughtlight drought, but drought nevertheless. Inez liked that Fairs truck had a separate button for heat and air-conditioning for the passenger side.

  Certainly is. They passed Madison Countys high school on the right. For a small school, they sure can put together good football teams.

  Love high school football, baseball, track and fieldyou name it. I like seeing young people discipline their bodies.

  I figure if theyre exhausted from practice, the number of teenage pregnancies will fall.

  She laughed. Dont count on it.

  He laughed, too, then changed the tone. You know, Ive been thinking about Mariah sending people messages again.

  We all have.

  Didnt you mention to me that Mariah and Flo had a spat in the hallway? I mean at Aunt Tallys centennial celebration.

  I was too far down the hall to hear it myself. It was in the doorway to the ladies room. There were a number of board members in the hallway who said they heard the whole thing.

  Hearsay.

  I didnt pay too much attention to it. She paused. Why?

  Thought there might be a clue.

  Youre starting to get like your wife. Curious. Thats a nice way to put it.

  He laughed. Youre right.

  Well, what more than one of the board members repeated was that Flo set herMariahup for a financial fall.

  Flo wasnt her broker. That would be crazy.

  No, but Mariah would occasionally ask Liz questions about stocks. Apparently Liz freely babbled her knowledge.

  Surely the DAngelos had their own broker.

  His and hers, I believe. Inez crossed her arms over her chest. Liz wants to avoid conflict. It could look like playing both ends against the middle. She sank down in the captains chair, then sat up straight. Forgive me. Im going to make a call, and feel free to listen in.

  She dialed Lizs office number. Liz.

  Inez, how are you?

  Fine. Any more messages?

  No, Liz sarcastically replied. No one has ever promised to barbecue my fingers before. Actually, the strangulation message that preceded the barbecue message was more imaginative.

  Jahnae and I were not treated to a bun. As you know, our message was Catch me if you can. But Ive been meaning to ask, how much financial advice did you give Mariah?

  A long pause followed. Too much.

  Did she have an account with you?

  Yes. Small.

  Liz, what do you call small?

  About $150,000. For Tim and me, thats small. Im surprised the St. Louis police havent questioned us. Surely theyve gone through her papers by now.

  No papers. The police have found nothing. Her husband says she never shared her business news or problems with him.

  This got a reaction. What?

  Cooper, Harrys deputy friend, has been in contact with the St. Louis police. They arent too willing to share, but the detective in charge of the murder investigation said they have been unable to find personal records. They have the business records. Theyve checked the recorded watch ID numbers with the various manufacturers, confirming that they are false.

  She destroyed her papers. Lizs voice returned to a calmer tone. She had to have planned this.

  So it would appear. Inez paused. Arent you somewhat concerned for your well-being?

  Tim is. Im watchful, but why would she want to kill me? I had nothing to do with the scam being exposed.

  She doesnt know that.

  A long pause followed Inezs discomforting statement. I guess she doesnt, but I had nothing to gain by it. I had something to lose: a client. Hers was a small account, her real money was with her Kansas City broker, but it still was an account. Why would I hurt her?

  I dont know, but best not to assume shes a hundred percent rational.

  On April 10, Good Friday, Fuji Wertland and his crew at William Woods reached the last big manure pile. Patches of snow still lay on the north side of the hills, but for the past two days theyd been moving the manure piles in dump trucks. The school had an arrangement with a local nursery. William Woods delivered the manure to acres owned by the nursery out of town. The manure was turned and monitored; long thermometer probes gauged core heat. Once the manure cooked, it was ground up into a fine mixture. It could then be applied to small pastures or large gardens. If lime or calcium needed to be added, that was done at the small plant on the acres. It was quite a profitable operation.

  While Fuji and his crew used the front-end loader to fill the dump truck, Trudy Sweetwater and Jahnae went over the sum raised by Aunt Tallys centennial. A few pledges had not come in yet, but they could make a fairly accurate accounting. Including Big Mims large contribution, which pushed the sum way up, it came to $605,332.91.

  I cant believe it. Jahnae was ecstatic.

  Trudy, thrilled herself, said, God bless Tally Urquhart.

  This is just wonderful, wonderful. Does Tally know?

  I thought Id let you call her. Trudy wisely gave the credit to the president.

  Jahnae, however, much as she might like that, demurred. Trudy, you did the scut work. You call her. Im not stealing your thunder.

  Ill remember every syllable.

  Youd better. Jahnae laughed. Before she left, Tally asked me to remember how William Woods began. She requested that this money be used for scholarships for orphans, male or female. She also requested that we pay special attention to those children fathered by American servicemen but abandoned. Youre too young to remember how many children were left in Vietnam, despised by their countrymen and with no way to come over here. You know, when the French left Vietnam in 1954, the French government arranged to bring over twenty-one thousand children and Vietnamese women, but we jettisoned our Ameriasians. It was one of the most shameful things we ever did, ever. Her face reddened. Our government finall
y did try to make amends. Tally never forgot. She said to me, considering the dreadful treatment of women in Iraq and Afghanistan, surely there will be orphans. Shes pulled us right back to our founding principle.

  Trudy softly replied, Its easy to forget, isnt it? How people can be left behind?

  You dont mind if I share. Inez said if she makes it to one hundred, her request will be that any monies raised in her honor go to abandoned horses. Jahnae paused. You know, Trudy, this university really does turn out remarkable, responsible people.

  The phone rang. Jahnae picked it up, because it wouldnt be coming straight through if it werent important. Hello. Within seconds, her face changed. Good Lord! Did you call Deputy Sorenson? She paused. Good. Fuji, do what you can to keep everyone away and to keep things calm. You know the TV reporters listen in to the routing calls. Ill be there as fast as I can.

  Jahnae, face ashen, hung up the phone. Trudy asked, What?

  Jahnae exhaled. When the maintenance staff broke up the last of the manure piles, Mariahs remains were at the bottom. Fuji said her jewelry had not been stolen and she was fairly well preserved.

  Oh, my God! But I thought she recently sent you a message! Trudy felt queasy. Did Fuji say how she was killed?

  No.

  Jahnae quickly pulled on her boots and a heavy coat. She blasted out of the building. She drove her car to the stables, cleverly blocking the stable road with it. That would keep the TV stations minivans back a bit. The reporters would walk around the car, but as far as she was concerned, every minute counted. She hoped the ambulance could remove the body, but she knew the sheriff wouldnt allow that until he felt his men had thoroughly investigated the site.

  A bad wreck just west of Fulton on I-70 involving a pinned-down tractor trailer had occupied the only mobile news unit. This worked in Jahnaes favor. As the local TV station was small, they could afford only one unit. It would be some time before the reporters descended upon her. Even if the station pulled them off I-70, it would take a half hour to reach Fulton.

  By the time the TV van did reach the stables, Mariah had been zipped up in a body bag and taken to the morgue.

  Jahnae was pretty tough, but she didnt like seeing a corpse. She made a brief statement to a TV reporter, then walked back to her car.

  Once back in the office, the first call she made was to Inez.

  Inez, calm, collected, said, Do you want me to call the alumnae board? You have a great deal to do.

  Inez, yes. Thank you. A pause followed. Although campuses are safer than most environments, they still reflect our society, and we are a violent society. I never thought Mariah would turn up here.

  You can take comfort in the fact that this involves no students and that perhaps, in some way, Mariah brought it on herself.

  Oh, Inez. Selling bogus watches isnt worth murder. Surely not.

  Youre right. Inez sighed deeply. Im so very sorry for what you are about to endure. Ill help in any way I can.

  I know you will, and I thank you in advance.

  Inez first called Aunt Tally, who was stunned, then she informed Harry and Fair.

  What can we do for you? Fairs deep voice and his tone brought the animals into the kitchen, where Inez had been using her computer on the kitchen table.

  Bring me hot tea. Ive got to call the board members, and some of those calls will go on. She rubbed her temples. I dont understand any of this.

  I told you! Tucker sat right up.

  Tucker, you said you smelled blood in the manure pile, but how could it have been Mariahs? Shes been emailing people. Dont jump to conclusions. Mrs. Murphy, rational as always, rubbed her head on the dogs chest.

  Missouri is a long way away. This has nothing to do with our people or Inez. Pewter, on her haunches, wrapped her tail around her body.

  Better stay a long way away, Erno growled. Anyone tries to hurt Mommy, and Ill rip their throat out.

  Inez now had Liz on the phone, who was gasping in shock. Liz, Liz, are you there?

  Sorry, Im just I dont know. Its unbelievable. She swallowed audibly, then spoke. Im both horrified and relieved.

  I can well understand, Inez sympathized.

  What next? Tuckers pink tongue hung out.

  I dont know. Im a cat, not a clairvoyant, Mrs. Murphy replied crossly, for she hated not knowing things.

  The humans were upset. The animals, whose senses were much sharper, their minds not cluttered with ideologies that screened or blunted reality, often knew things before the humans did. But they knew nothing, except for Tucker, who did truly smell blood in the manure pile. Whose blood was it?

  A velvet black sky, clear; the moon, close to total fullness, cast its silver spell at three in the morning on April 11. Mrs. Murphy paid careful attention to the moon phases. Full moons brought out many night animals. There was more activity than usual. This was true for humans, toohence the word lunacy, since luna meant moon in Latin. For thousands of years, sentient creatures understood that the full moon, the pull of the tides, affected minds.

  Passover was this week. Mrs. Murphy knew about human benchmarks, mostly because she heard about them from her humans, but she thought cat holidays or major events should be on the calendar, as well. What about the cats that guarded grain supplies throughout history? Surely cats assisted in feeding the allied armies huddled before Waterloo, just to name one cataclysmic event. And what about the cats that kept Mark Twain, along with so many other great writers, thinkers, artists, and statesmen, company when they wrote? Then she considered the feline solace and advice given to kings and queens throughout history. It was true: Cats moved history.

  She was having this discussion tonight with Simon the possum, up in the hayloft. A frost was already on the ground when Harry had put out molasses icicles before retiring at 10:00 P.M. Harry was usually in bed by then, but the terrible news about the discovery of Mariah had kept her restless.

  Simon lived for sweetsmolasses icicles in winter and fat white marshmallows in summer. Harry also put out Jolly Ranchers for him. He had to peel off the cellophane. Harry would watch him and giggle. Sometimes the possum would look up at her as if to say, Why dont you take the cellophane off?

  Harry inspired confidence in animals; she had the gift. That wasnt to say that wild ones would come up to her, but they didnt usually run right away. Foxes would stop to stare, perhaps exchange a few words, which Harry couldnt understand. Birds, especially hawks, shadowed her, and Flatface, the owl, would often call out a friendly hoo hoo on sight.

  At this moment, Mrs. Murphy was telling Simon about the blood of the lamb and the Angel of Death and how the firstborn in the house without the mark died. She was trying to explain Passover.

  Oh, the poor lamb, Simon commented.

  Doesnt get much credit. Mrs. Murphy snuggled in the hay.

  On a night like tonight, when the thermometer read twenty-nine degrees, it was cold, but with a little hay around her, Mrs. Murphys thick fur and undercoat kept her warm enough.

  Pewter, on the other hand, hated being cold. Currently the gray cat was sprawled full length on the sofa, the huge heavy logs Fair had put in the fireplace before going upstairs burning slowly. The fireplaces and the wood-burning stove in the basement went a long way toward reducing heating bills. They tried to keep the electric bills down by turning the lights on in only the room they were occupying. Harrys mother had drummed that into her head, and during her first year of marriage to Fair, Harry trailed behind him, switching off lights. When he saw the difference in the bill those eighteen years ago, he got the message. Today, the savings were much greater.

  Mrs. Murphy, not born when Harry and Fair were first married, had heard about it nonetheless. Given the excellent state of her eyes, she didnt need much electric light, but that was when she realized that, while humans enjoyed good vision, their night vision was dreadful. No wonder they got scared, and no wonder their conception of evil always involved darkness. Didnt they call the devil the Prince of Darkness?

  Then
what happened? Simon gnawed on the molasses.

  Pharaoh set them free, and they made it to the Red Sea. But Ramses repented of his generosity, so he came after them with his army.

  Went back on his word. Thats a bad thing. Simon, a Southern possum, knew that your word was your bond.

  Well, Moses arrived at the Red Sea, so he had water in front of him and Pharaoh barreling down on him from behind. I guess Ramses would have killed all of them or maybe just killed some and enslaved the others again. Anyway, it was not an appetizing prospect. So Moses threw open his arms, and the Red Sea parted.

  Huh? Simons jaw hung slack.

  The sea opened, and the Jews hurried along the path. Well, Pharaoh rode right in after them, and he was halfway through the open path when the last of the former slaves set foot on dry ground and the sea closed.

  Simons eyes grew moist. Those poor horses. Then he whispered, I hope they didnt hear. He nodded to indicate the sleeping horses below.

  Shortro, the gray Saddlebred who had just turned four, flopped on his side, snoring at full throttle.

  How can you sleep with that racket? Mrs. Murphy peered over the side to see the horses.

  You get used to it. Hes good company, Shortro.

  Im going home. I didnt hunt much this evening. Lost the impulse. Huntings good when the moon waxes.

  Tomorrow nightSimon meant the night of April 12it will be one big party. Feels like rain, though. That will keep most everyone holed up.

  Mrs. Murphy backed down the ladder to the hayloft, then took a moment to hop on one of the large tack trunks containing extra horse blankets outside Shortros stall. There he was, on his side, eyes closed, lips moving with each gargantuan snore. The young gelding had a clear conscience, for he could sleep at the drop of a hat.

  The sleek cat slipped through the animal door into the tack room, where the mice were carrying sweet-feed grains behind the old small tack trunk there.

  Clean this up, she warned.

  Will came the reply, and the fat fellow disappeared behind the trunk, his long tail staying in sight for an extra moment.

  Just to be sure, Mrs. Murphy walked outside and checked the feed room. Harry rarely forgot to close the lid on the zinc-lined feed containers, which were big enough for a person to stand in. But, as always, some grain was scattered on the floor as well as under the buckets in the stalls. Sweet feed smelled delicious.