Authors: Marian Babson

Please Do Feed the Cat (21 page)

‘I’m afraid they’ve got the measure of your mutts, Gemma,’ Dorian said.

‘What the hell!’ Jack started forward. ‘Things can’t get any worse!’

‘Prrryeeeow …’
Roscoe sailed through the open window, Had-I and But-Known following.

‘No!’ ‘Oh, no!’ With cries of consternation, Macho and Lorinda stooped to gather up their darlings.

‘You had to open your big mouth!’ Karla told Jack.

‘Here …’ They had discreetly ignored it when Professor Borley slipped into the bathroom. Now he was back, his arms loaded with wet towels. ‘Wrap these around your heads, they’ll filter the smoke – and they might give some protection when we try the window.’

‘Good thinking!’ Jack reached eagerly for a dripping bath towel.

‘Can’t we wring it out a bit first?’ Karla complained, holding hers at arm’s length.

‘Not on my carpet!’ Gemma winced.

‘Carpets are the least of our problems!’ Abby Borley was losing patience. ‘Now – while I was looking around in there, I noticed the bathroom has a transom window opening on to Coffers Passage. It’s too small and too high for our builders to bother worrying about. But – ’ He turned to Redmoor – ‘you’re small enough, young enough and, I hope, agile enough to be able to get through it. If you’re willing to try, that is?’

‘Is there a choice?’ Redmoor was already striding towards the bathroom, wrapping a navy blue towel around his head.

‘Don’t all follow,’ Dorian warned. ‘They can see in from outside and they’ll get suspicious if the room empties.’

‘We ought to turn off the lights,’ Macho said. ‘We won’t be so visible then.’

‘I’m sorry – ’ Gemma gave a little whimper. ‘I don’t think I could bear the darkness.’ Lorinda was glad that Gemma made the protest; none of them really wanted to be left in darkness.

‘We’ll turn off most of the lights then,’ Macho compromised, and did so, leaving only one lamp in the far corner still glowing.

‘He made it on the second try,’ Borley reported, returning. ‘So far, no one seems to have spotted him.’

‘They wouldn’t know him anyway, he’s never been in town before,’ Dorian said. ‘Gemma is just a one-night stand for him, so to speak.’ No one reacted, not even Gemma.

‘So now we just have to stay here and wait?’ There was a ragged edge to Cressie’s voice.

‘Unless you have a better idea,’ Freddie said.

‘I think we’ve seen enough of Cressie’s ideas,’ Dorian said. ‘If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be in this mess!’

Not quite. If Macho hadn’t brought her here . .
. Lorinda and Freddie exchanged glances, trying not to look at Macho – or Cressie.

‘Don’t worry!’ Cressie snapped. ‘I’ve had enough of all of you! As soon as we get out of here –
if
we get out of here – I’m going straight back to London!’

‘I’ll be able to leave, too,’ Adèle said. ‘And no one will be able to accuse me of running away.’

Dorian could not conceal a brief smile of satisfaction.

‘I’ll be glad to see the last of this dump!’ Cressie was not finished. ‘And you – ’ She glared at Macho. ‘You can go back to sleep – or whatever you do – with your tame harem!’

‘Harem?’ It was not until Freddie spluttered with sudden hysterical laughter that Lorinda realized Cressie meant them.

‘Harem?’ Macho looked at them both and a slow smile began to spread across his face.

‘It’s not
that
funny!’ Lorinda snapped.

‘No,’ Macho agreed, but he was still smiling. ‘Perhaps it’s not.’

‘Listen.’ Professor Borley called them back to order, one hand upraised in the call for silence.

The others stood frozen abruptly in listening attitudes. It had suddenly gone unnaturally quiet outside.

‘Do you think they’ve gone away?’ Gemma quavered hopefully.

‘Don’t bet on it.’Jack was prowling by the open window. ‘I think there’s somebody moving around out there … trying to sneak up on us … What the – ’

An unidentifiable object flew through the open window. Jack caught it and threw it back. There was a crash as the object shattered on the pavement outside and burst into flames.

‘Jeez!’ Jack said. ‘That was a Molotov cocktail!’

‘Do they have any more?’ Karla wanted to know.

‘We’re gonna find out, I’m afraid.’ Jack flexed his muscles. ‘Get me something I can bat them with – ’

‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’

The sudden indignant bellow spoiled the thrower’s aim. The next missile hit the outer frame of the window and sent a river of fire down the side.

‘WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY? I’m not paying you to go out and moonlight on someone else’s building site all day and then play with fireworks all night!’

‘It’s Hilda,’ Gemma said. ‘I was going to tell you I invited her to drop over for a drink later. I thought we’d be finished by about now …’

‘We almost were,’ Freddie muttered.

‘COME BACK WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU! What’s going on here? If you think – ’

A siren sounded in the distance, approaching rapidly.

‘Jeffrey has made it!’ Gemma exulted. ‘The dear boy has
brought help! I hope it’s the fire brigade … although the police …’

‘At this point, I’d welcome the Boy Scouts,’ Dorian said. ‘We’re in no position to be choosy.’

‘Cressie was true to her word,’ Macho said, a trifle smugly. ‘I understand she barely paused in London long enough to pack and she must be in New York by now. With any luck, she’ll stay there.’

‘Don’t you think she’ll come back for the trial?’ Lorinda pondered. The police in the next county had caught the fleeing builders, initially for speeding, compounded by resisting arrest and driving an unroadworthy vehicle while banned from driving at all. There had been plenty to hold them on before the additional charges of homicide, arson and attempted murder came through.

‘Not if she can help it,’ Macho said. ‘They won’t bother about her, her evidence isn’t necessary. Gemma is the main witness.’

‘It’s so nice of Professor Borley to take both Gemma and Betty to Cornwall for a fortnight’s holiday,’ Lorinda said. ‘They were badly in need of it – and I don’t think they could have afforded it by themselves.’

‘I wonder who’s chaperoning whom in that little trio?’ Freddie mused.

‘All the same, it’s not a bad idea.’ Macho looked from one to the other. ‘You know, my bank balance is in a pretty healthy state at the moment – even if it is thanks to Cressie. Why don’t I treat the three of us to a little holiday of our own? Perhaps Spain, or Italy, or one of those cruises Dorian is always going on about?’

There was a long considering silence, broken only by the purring of the three cats, each settled comfortably on a lap.

‘Just the three of us,’ Freddie teased. ‘You and your harem?’

‘That’s what they’ll be saying, won’t they?’ Lorinda said thoughtfully. ‘After the way Cressie accused us – ’

‘Borley and
his
harem are in no position to talk,’ Macho said. ‘And, as for Dorian – ’

‘Do we care?’ Freddie grinned conspiratorially at them both. ‘Let them talk. Everything will sort itself out eventually.’

‘That’s right.’ Macho stretched, disturbing a Roscoe who had gone from gaunt to sleek and was now on his way back to plump. Roscoe complained briefly, then settled down again, leading the chorus of purrs from Had-I and But-Known, his own harem – such as it was.

‘We’ve got our own peaceful life back again.’ Macho spoke for everyone. ‘And that’s all I care about.’

ALSO LOOK FOR THESE MYSTERIES BY MARIAN BABSON

Tourists Are for Trapping

Murder at the Cat Show

Cover-Up Story

The Cat Next Door

To Catch a Cat

The Company of Cats

Canapés for the Kitties

In the Teeth of Adversity

The Cat Who Wasn’t a Dog

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PLEASE DO FEED THE CAT

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

First published in Great Britain by Constable, an imprint of Constable & Robinson Ltd., under the title
Retreat from Murder.

St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

eISBN 9781429901369

First eBook Edition : December 2011

EAN: 9780312-93867-3

St. Martin’s Press hardcover edition / November 2004
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / January 2006