by Clea Simon
“I’m not describing it well.” Becca slumped – and then perked back up. “What if I send you a photo? Maybe it’s just a stain, but maybe someone will recognize it. Can I text one to you or do you have an email? Yes, tomorrow would be fine. Thank you.”
Laying the violin back in its velvet bed, Becca grabbed a pencil and started to write. The sound of the pencil on paper, so reminiscent of tiny claws scrabbling across a wood floor, was awfully tempting. But Clara made herself focus. For the moment, the violin case was open, giving her a chance to investigate.
That velvet, its nap worn down in places to expose the silky fabric, must once have been soft and plush. Closing her eyes, she envisioned the sun-warmed grass of spring and experienced the urge to nibble on it. In one corner, a torn patch had begun to peel back up, tempting the curious kitty. Stepping gently on the edge of the case, Clara lowered her face to the curved body of the violin instead, moving from the deep-hued stain, that bare patch where the grain of the wood showed pale, and the black fingerboard last.
Opening her mouth, she took in its scent, which recalled not so much the trees she had encountered on her outings with Becca as the incense they burned at Charm and Cherish. Over it all, a scent so subtle it was more like warmth, concentrated on the surface of the fingerboard, just below the four taut strings. Clara felt as if she were sniffing the fingers of all the people who had played it. And there were many, Clara thought, without really knowing why. Very many. In fact, if she closed her eyes and pitched her whiskers forward to catch all the vibrations, she thought she caught a vaguely familiar scent–
“No, kitty.” Clara felt herself lifted by the middle, and the scent was lost as Becca lowered her to the floor. Undaunted, the agile calico leaped back up to the tabletop. This time, however, she was careful to keep her distance as Becca hovered over the instrument with her phone. If her person would only focus a little more on that phone…
It was not to be. Becca not only closed the lid, she buckled it as she turned away. “You just want your dinner, and I don’t blame you.”
“What’s going on?” Laurel landed beside her, almost with a sound.
“Dinner, I think.”
“I know that!” Laurel nodded in the direction of the kitchen, where Harriet was wrapping herself around Becca’s legs, whining softly even as she hindered her progress. “Look at our big sister. Doesn’t she realize she’s slowing her up?”
Clara knew better than to let herself be drawn into that conversation, and instead simply followed Laurel as she joined their oldest sister in the kitchen.
“What’s up with Becca?” Laurel asked again, once the three had eaten. “She should be asleep after a day like this. I can tell she’s tired, and if she expects to keep up her looks…”
“She hasn’t eaten.” Harriet joined them, licking her chops. “That can’t be good. Just because she’s seen a body is no reason not to feed oneself,” she concluded, the logic of her argument apparently obvious.
”I’m not sure,” Clara admitted, as her two sisters began their post-dinner toilette. “She is trying not to think about the body, I believe. Instead, she’s focusing on the violin, it’s very old.”
“Not as old as we are.” Laurel sniffed, and Clara’s ears pricked up. “And if you hadn’t been so resistant...”
“I’m sorry. Please tell me more.” She didn’t have to fake her eagerness. “I want to hear about grandmama especially.”
A grunt – half growl, half cough – interrupted them. Harriet, on the sofa, was staring up at her two sisters, yellow eyes glowing.
“Harriet does know more of the story.” Laurel dipped her head in acknowledgement, and Clara followed her to the table’s edge, ready to jump down. Harriet was already plumping herself up in preparation, wiggling her large behind into her pillow and fluffing her ruff with her tongue. Clearly, the eldest of the three cats was readying herself for a performance.
“Come get comfortable, sisters.” With one outstretched paw and the kind of feline smile that almost closes the eyes, the big marmalade invited Clara and Laurel to join her. “Clara, you especially will want to hear about how we came to our present responsibilities.”
Eager as she was, Clara let Laurel jump first. This was no time to buck precedence. But as soon as her sealpoint sister had arranged herself along the sofa’s back, the little calico prepared to jump. First to the floor, she thought. The sofa was within reach, but if she skidded and bumped into Harriet it might be interpreted as disrespect. No, she decided, better to go for that blank spot of carpet, over by the coffee table.
Only just then she felt it. They all did, she saw as first Laurel and then finally Harriet turned toward the door, the eldest of the three with a particularly sour look on her flat Persian face.
“Not again!” Clara picked up her oldest sister’s growl and realized why that particular vibration felt familiar. Just then Becca turned too, alerted by the footsteps in the hall a split second before a soft tap sounded on the door.
“Hello?” Becca called through the door, before opening it. Although Clara had recognized the visitor, she silently applauded the measure. Becca’s friend Maddy was right. At times their person was a little too trusting. “Who’s there?” Her voice shook ever so slightly.
“It’s me.” A female voice, soft and speaking with a light lilting accent. “Ruby. Ruby Grozny. We met at Charm and Cherish.”
“Ruby! I’m so glad it’s you.” Becca quickly unlatched the door and swung it open, revealing the slight, dark-haired young woman, still wearing the duffel coat and tam. If she appeared taken aback by Becca’s exuberant greeting, she did her best to hide it, smiling shyly back. “I’m Becca. I was looking for you, you know, but you’d left.”
“The police.” Ruby’s voice dropped and her eyes darted to the side. Toward the neighboring apartment, Clara realized. “They had questions.”
“Of course they did.” Becca must have recognized her visitor’s distress, because she reached forward to usher her in, closing and latching the door behind her. “Finding him like that and having to talk to the police – that must have been upsetting.”
“Thank you.” Ruby managed a weak smile. “It was.” The pale young woman bowed her head as if bashful. Or, thought Clara, as if she were acknowledging Becca’s insight.
“I’m sorry.” The visitor spoke so softly, Clara had to tilt her ears to hear. “But did you – do you have my violin?”
“Oh, yes! Of course. What was I thinking?” At Becca’s urging, Ruby surrendered that coat and the cute hat, and let Becca lead her over into the apartment. Clara was staring at the hat – that pompom had a fascinating appeal – when she heard a quick intake of breath.
“That picture.” Ruby stood frozen, facing the bookshelf. Wordlessly, Becca stepped back and let her pass, following her over to the shelf, where the stranger picked up the silver frame with both hands, examining the old-fashioned print of a seated woman it held. Clara knew the picture well. Not only was it one of Becca’s favorites, but the cat on the woman’s lap appeared – even in the grainy reproduction – to be a calico like Clara, with one brown ear and one black, and a gaze as direct as the woman’s, staring out at the viewer.
“Do you know it?” Becca asked. “I found it online. I think – I’m not sure – but I think it may be my great-great grandmother, with her cat.”
“A wise woman.” Ruby nodded, as if in confirmation, before replacing the picture on its shelf.
For a moment, the two women stood in silence, and although Clara had the distinct impression that Becca was sizing up the other woman, she couldn’t be sure what exactly she was weighing. Hoping for an answer, she turned to Laurel, hoping her sister’s ability to read thoughts might provide some insight. “Are you getting any of this?” But the sealpoint had stalked off, most likely in protest of the interruption.
“Anyway, there’s your violin.” Becca nodded toward the table, where Laurel had once again stretched o
ut alongside the case. “I didn’t think the conservatory would be able to identify it and get in touch so fast.”
“The conservatory?” A pause and a quick puzzled glance, dark brows bunching in confusion.
“You mentioned the conservatory when we met, so I called them. You’re a student there?”
“Yes. Well, I hope to be.” The newcomer began to nod and then broke off, her pale face growing wistful. “What a pretty cat.” She reached out just as Laurel yawned, showing her fangs.
“The conservatory is why I came to Boston,” Ruby explained, with a slight stammer, as she drew her hand back. “I am still waiting to hear the result of my audition. There is a scholarship, and the panel was very encouraging. I know it is unusual to begin with the spring semester, but given my circumstances…”
“I bet you did great.” Becca pulled the sealpoint toward her, ignoring her grumbling whine.
The visitor glanced up with shy smile. “They gave me a private practice room already. I know they are between semesters, but I believe that must bode well.”
Becca returned her smile without comment as the musician opened the fancy case to reveal the battered instrument inside. Laurel, also looking on, kept up a low feline grumble.
“Thank you.” Relief brightened Ruby’s face, as Laurel, fed up, jumped to the ground with a grunt.
“You’re welcome. But…” Becca looked as quizzical as a cat. More quizzical, Clara thought, as she slipped by her peeved sister to watch the two humans. “Can you tell me why you ran out of the store so quickly? Does it have anything to do with the problem you started to tell me about?”
“Problem?” As Becca spoke, Ruby had been reaching for the violin’s neck, as if to lift it. As she responded, she stopped herself, so that only the tips of her fingers touched the time-darkened wood.
“You were telling me that you needed the services of a witch detective.”
“Yes, I do.” Ruby was nodding, even as, with apparent reluctance, she laid the instrument back in its case, flipping the latches shut with a sigh. “And, yes, it has to do with my violin.”
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Becca paused, searching for the words. “Is there something wrong with the violin?”
“Yes, no. I’m not sure.” Her eyes darted around the apartment. But only the cats were listening, and although Clara sat there rapt, Laurel had begun bathing. She was acting as if she didn’t care, but her baby sister could tell how irritated she was by the way she bit her toenails. “I am wondering if it is haunted.”
“And that’s why you left it with me?” Becca’s voice dropped further, causing Clara to prick up her ears. Even Laurel stopped grooming. “Is it valuable? I can tell it’s old.”
“I value it, but no.” Ruby smiled, as if at something the cats could not see. “It was my grandfather’s and his father’s before him. It’s been in my family so long...”
She looked over at the print in its silver frame. “I cannot believe I was so careless, but yesterday was such a long day. I have been traveling, and I had the audition.” She sighed. “I am so grateful you found it, and that you kept it safe.”
“Of course,” said Becca. “But I’m concerned about this feeling you had. Like, maybe you were picking up on something.” She spoke softly, as if she could make the truth less hideous. “After what happened next door… You were staying there. Weren’t you?”
A flash of distress crossed the other girl’s face. “Yes, I arrived late the night before. Everything took so much longer than I expected, and then today I had my appointment at the conservatory.” She hung her head but couldn’t hide the single tear that ran down her cheek. “That poor man…”
“You poor dear.” Becca nearly pushed her into a chair. “I’m sorry. You must be wiped out.” Another tear. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
A sniffle, as the other woman shook her head. As if on cue, the wind howled, shaking the panes of the kitchen window, and the old radiator started to clank as the heat came on.
“That’s it.” Becca said. “You’re staying here.”
“No, I can’t.” Ruby shook her head. “Really.”
The window rattled again, as if to chime in. The sky outside was already dark, but Clara could smell the clouds gathering.
“I won’t hear otherwise,” Becca insisted, as she began to gather up the sofa cushions, waking Harriet, who had settled in for a nap. “Do you have a bag? Oh, you didn’t leave anything next door, is it?”
“No, it’s in my practice space.”
“Of course.” Becca paused, thinking. “Shall we go get it?”
“I– I can do that.” That slight stammer, though this time with a hint of a shy smile. “I will have to show an ID, but they gave me a temporary card. Almost like I am already accepted.”
“I bet that’s a good sign.” Becca piled the cushions on the chair, further discomfiting Harriet, who fled the room. “And I’ll make up the couch in the meantime.”
She was rewarded by a beaming version of that smile. “Thank you.”
“I may not be doing much for you as a witch detective, but maybe I can be a friend.”
“I don’t know about this.” Clara, muttered softly, as Becca drew her a map of the T, jotting her cell number on the bottom.
“Just in case you get lost.”
“Relax.” Laurel came up beside her. “She’s like a kitten. I can tell.”
Clara wasn’t convinced, and she felt the fur along her back rise as Becca helped Ruby into her coat and hat.
“One thing,” Ruby pulled the beret down to cover the tips of her ears. “Could I leave my violin here again, while I go for my bag?”
“Of course,” said Becca. “I think my cats are growing fond of it.”
Chapter 10.
“Becca, have you lost it?” Maddy wasn’t so understanding. “You’re letting a complete stranger stay with you – a stranger who’s been involved in a murder?”
“She wasn’t involved.” Becca emphasized the last word, once her friend had stopped yelling. “Not the way you mean, anyway. If anything, the fact that she was there means she deserves more of our sympathy. Can you imagine opening the door to the apartment where you think you’re staying and finding your host … like that?”
“I’m imagining finding you like that!” Maddy had apparently only paused to catch her breath. “I mean, do you know anything about her?”
“She’s a student at the conservatory.” Becca was speaking with her calming voice, the one she used when she Laurel was climbing the drapes or any of them had to go to the vet. “That’s how she found me again. And she trusted me, remember? She left her violin with me at the shop.”
“That could have been a plant.” Maddy couldn’t see the confusion on Becca’s face, but she must have heard her own words. “I mean a setup, Becca. Something to draw you in. To get you involved.”
“I am involved.” Becca took the phone over to the table and let the fingers of her free hand run over the violin case. “She came to me even before that – before any of this happened.”
“Well, you’re not facing this alone. I’m coming over. You’re not spending the night alone with her.”
“But Maddy–”
“No ‘buts.’ I was thinking I’d come over anyway, and this settles it. ’ll sleep on the floor if I have to – that is, if I sleep at all.”
True to her word, Becca’s friend showed up twenty minutes later, holding a gym bag that was suspiciously lumpy.
“Where is she?” Maddy scanned the room, her normally kind round face tight with suspicion. For once, she ignored the three cats who had gathered to greet the large woman.
“She’s not back yet.” Becca reached for the bag, but Maddy held tight. “Okay, what do you have in there?”
“My toothbrush.” Her friend continued to eye the room, as if the stranger might be lurking in one of the corners. “And a few odds and ends, just in case
.”
“You don’t have any groceries tucked in there, do you?” Becca laughed. “Look at the way Harriet is sniffing your bag.”
“No, hey girl.” Maddy bent over to give the marmalade a belated greeting, even as Clara rubbed against her leggings in welcome. “I mean, I grabbed some rice cakes but that’s all. You want rice cakes?” This was to Laurel, who stood on her hind legs to shove her head into Maddy’s hand.
“They’ve already had dinner. But what with one thing and another, I didn’t get to shop – and now I don’t want to go out in case Ruby comes by.”
“Ruby? That’s her name?” Maddy paused, looking up at her host. “Ruby what?”
“I’m sure she told me – Grozny, maybe?” Becca’s tone was faintly scolding. “There’s been so much going on. Hey, why don’t we call Zoe’s Chinese. They deliver.”
“You’re not going to make me feel better about this with some moo shi, you know.” Maddy reached down to rub Laurel’s ears and then began to unbutton her coat. “But, yeah, I could go for some.”
“I’ll order extra, for when Ruby gets here. Once you talk with her, you’ll see, she’s just a normal student. A little lost is all.”
Maddy clearly wanted to respond, but Becca had handed her the takeout menu. “Here,” she said. “Choose a couple of dishes, and I’ll make the call.”
Once the order had been placed, Maddy got down to business, settling herself onto the sofa next to Harriet. “So, tell me everything you know. I mean for real, Becca. Not just that you have a feeling about this girl.”
“I do, though.” Becca paused before continuing. “There’s something going on with her, but I don’t get any sense of danger from her. More than that, my cats are very calm – they were fine with her and they’re fine with the violin.”
“Wait, what?” Maddy did a double take, startling the cat by her side. “It’s still here?”