Catnapped!: The Further Adventures of Undercover Cat [1 ed.] 0385089015, 9780385089012

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™mjnin THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF UNDERCOVER CAT \i THE GORDONS

c.

$5.95

CATNAPPED! BY

''

THE GORDONS

Once

Damn

again

serious trouble

Cat Randall

is

in

—and he's involved

his

old nemesis, the FBI, as well as his

Unwittingly, D.C. draws his

family.

"people"

— the

Randalls

— into

frontation with an ingenious

a con-

and ruth-

less criminal.

her teen-age

Patti Randall,

and

Ingrid,

their

sister,

younger brother,

Mike, become the targets of mysterious threats from an extortionist with a bizarre

scheme for making the Randalls

accessories to a crime.

Old Mrs. MacDougall, the nosy next-door neighbor, engages in a classic

shoot-out with the criminal, Bogie,

who

thinks of himself as

Bogart. Greg, the

Humphrey

handsome young

at-

torney, finds himself forced to help

rescue

D.C, though he would

hang him from the nearest through

all

tree.

And,

wild escapade, D.C.

this

almost wrecks

like to

Patti's

FBI Agent Zeke

engagement

Kelso.

(continued on back flap)

to

rt

Wt»e * o^fe*

»»

-*TUBL1C LIBRARY

Digitized by the Internet Archive in

2012

http://archive.org/details/catnappedfurtherOOgord

CATNAPPED!

Also by the Gordons

THAT DARN CAT (reissue of UNDERCOVER CAT) THE INFORMANT THE TUMULT AND THE JOY NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING UNDERCOVER CAT PROWLS AGAIN POWER PLAY UNDERCOVER CAT MENACE OPERATION TERROR TIGER ON MY BACK CAPTIVE

THE BIG FRAME THE CASE OF THE TALKING BUG CASEFILE: FBI

CAMPAIGN TRAIN FBI STORY

MAKE HASTE TO LIVE THE LITTLE MAN WHO WASN'T THERE

CATNAPPED! The Further Adventures of Undercover Cat

by

The Gordons

Doubleday

& Company, Inc., Garden City, New York 1974

FANEUIi

Copyright All Rights

©

1974 by Mildred Gordon and Gordon Gordon Reserved

Printed in the United States of America First Edition

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Gordon, Mildred. Catnapped! Gordon, Gordon, joint author. II. Title. [PS3557.067] 8i3.5'4 ISBN O-385-089OI-5 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 74-5915 I.

PZ 3 .G6567Cav

)jlS

JifaAS

All of the characters in this book are fictitious,

any resemblance to actual persons, is

and

living or dead,

purely coincidental— with the exception of D.C.

Excerpt from

Ann Landers column,

copyrighted by

Publishers-Hall Syndicate, which appeared in the

Los Angeles Herald-Examiner August reprinted

by permission.

7,

1972,

For Lisa Drew, with love and admiration

from

all

us cats.

CATNAPPED!

Patti Randall eased her

one hundred and

five

pounds

out from behind the wheel of her four-year-old compact car,

reached back in for a sack of groceries, then

bumped

the door

shut with her hip. She turned suddenly at the sound of angry shouting. For a second she stood in shock.

Greg Baiter, armed with a torch of some kind, was chasing Darn Cat Randall across the street. He was yelling, a car's brakes shrieked, and another's horn deafened her. As D.C. shot by, she stepped into Greg's path and barely escaped being knocked down. He was livid. "Greg Baiter!" she screamed. She was eyeball to eyeball with

He lived alone across the street, an attorney one year her He had threatened repeatedly to cut D.C.'s tail off inch by He was good-looking, an excellent conversationalist, fun to

him.

senior.

inch.

be around, with a white sports car that alone was worth setting a trap

for.

He had

But he was prone

when

it

came

to

D.C.

taken exception to the cat digging in his petunia bed,

stealing his fish catch

and teasing

onds,

to violence

if

He waved an

left it

his aging

once had dated him, she shouted. "I

he

dachshund, Blitzy. Although Patti

now detested the

acetylene torch.

was burning

thing. I tried pulling

it

exposed for more than two sec-

off

the

"It's

sight of him.

not what you think," he

Bermuda

up, and putting

grass. It's taking every-

weed

killer

on

but

it,

nothing worked and—" "I fire

saw you," she broke

in.

"You were trying

to set

him on

with that flame-thrower. In another second, you'd

you'd

." .

.

.

.

.

"No, no, you got

it all

when he—" "When he what?" "He was trespassing.

wrong.

It

was a

"So for that you set him on "No, no. You

where

see,

was burning the Bermuda

up— and

grass

clear case of trespassing."

fire?"

he was up in the tree looking

Blitzy sits— and using

getting Blitzy riled

I

all

I

in the

window

kinds of horrible obscenities and

guess you

know

Blitzy's got a

bad

heart and diabetes— and he could have died right then."

speak to D.C. about

"I'll

Mr. Baiter.

it,

I'll

tell

him how

an-

noyed you are when he looks in the window at your dog." "Now, look, Patti, don't fly off the handle. You're so sensitive about that

and

Mike

I

old,

want

moth-eaten

to

.

.

I

get along with

all

the neighbors

me— Inky

and

." .

.

"They're too young to

He

.

with you. All the kids love

know

better."

forced a smile and a normal voice.

He remembered

come over and

extinguish the torch. "I've been wanting to well, let

then to .

.

.

bygones be bygones, and go dancing or bowling."

"With a flame-thrower?" She scooped up D.C. and placed him on her shoulder, where he liked to ride, and stalked off. Greg shouted after her, "Immolation's too good for that cat!" What a temper that man had. How could he be a good at-

was true the kids liked him, includBut that was because he was always giving them something. He bought them off. Probably bought the juries, too. What a horrible man. D.C. agreed. He seldom talked but now he did. He had had a

torney, like everyone said? It

ing Ingrid and Mike, the

traitors.

harrowing experience and wanted her to know lapped up the sympathy. There was nothing after a

day

ing his

humans

As

If

10

love

him and

tell

about

He

it.

home

among the weirdos, and havhim what a great guy he was.

for that scoundrel across the street, wait until tomorrow.

.

.

.

she hadn't been so tired, she could have cried. She sat on

and chin, and talking she hadn't arrived home when she had

the floor If

in the concrete jungle,

all

like getting

by D.C. rubbing

his ears

.

.

.

to him.

Even

in the pitch dark, seventeen-year-old Ingrid

when people were

dall could tell

to conceal themselves. sister,

Patti,

about, no matter

how

She could hear them think, which her

seven years older, said was ridiculous, and her

brother, Mike, four years her junior, said proved she case. It

Ran-

they tried

was a

fact,

was a mental

though. Thinking could be heard, the kind

that stems from fear, not quiet, ordinary thinking. But when one was frightened, then that persons thinking gave off emanations which another could pick up. In slow stages, she aroused out of a sound sleep. Her mind, she discovered, was a computer gone berserk, ordering her one minute to wake up, then commanding her to sleep, nudging her sharply,

warning her something was amiss, then paralyzing her

with stupor.

She scooched herself up on the pillow, got into position on her

window with the drapes stirring The last thing she did nights was

elbows, and looked out the open in the chill

October breeze.

open the drapes. She enjoyed awakening

to a

sun-drenched room.

Full moonlight bathed the backyard, green with dichondra, still

arranged as their mother had planned

fore her death. other,

The

flower beds.

patio furniture

it

was on one

and on the

side,

The only change was Mike's worm bed

which he had "planted" when they had taken up the

Mike was

raising

and

a year or two be-

worms

to sell to fishermen.

He

iris

bulbs.

always had

something going.

Even barely awake she was conscious that D.C. was not asleep The cat must really be tying one on, she thought. He was an old maid, usually in by nine during the winter months. But in the summer he prowled until dawn, then curled up in the bathroom washbasin, which necessitated everyat the foot of her bed.

21

one using the kitchen

sink,

which resulted

in toothpaste in the

salad and soap suds in the cereal.

She wondered

if

Patti

had checked

in.

This was the night of

the big office party, a bridal shower. In three weeks Patti would

He was the had always wanted. He rapped with her. And, more important, he listened to her. He'd sit down and they'd discuss life. "I should be terribly jealous," Patti had said. "I think marry FBI agent Zeke Kelso, and Ingrid was

ecstatic.

older brother she

the guy's in love with you."

That had

femme

set

her to thinking.

If

she had played the part of a

fatale instead of the little sister, she

might have won him.

Not that she would ever do that to Patti. Besides, she had to admit, regretfully, Zeke was too ancient for her. He was quite old, all of twenty-eight, at least. And besides, she never could compete with Patti, who was something gorgeous. There was no other way to describe her. She had a slender figure that was pronouncedly feminine in the right places, but not overly exactly right to be provocative but not brazen. She

and

so, just

had

poise,

and was kind and understanding. Ingrid could go to her with problems, and Patti always had time. Still, if Patti ditched Zeke for any reason, Ingrid might just pick him up on the rebound. It was a mischievous thought. She was about to slide down into the bed when she heard the thinking. It came over very clearly. Not the words but the faint rumble of the machinery. She admitted later she might have

too,

confused

it,

intelligence,

it

with heavy breathing.

She listened again, and there was no sound. She had imagined and she lectured herself. "You're seventeen," she said, "and

you know

there's

a child, she ers,

no Wolf

Man coming

would awaken

for you." Years ago,

in the night

when

and hide under the covwould feel

trying not to breathe, fearing any second she

furry hands on her

and long teeth sinking

She wished D.C. would come. usually

came

trance.

When

in that

When

in.

the

window was

way; when closed, he used

open, he

his private en-

he was half-grown, her father had cut a small

swinging door in the lower part of the service-porch door. At the 12

time, he did not

in mind.

have a twenty-five-pound cat

opening served as D.C/s calorie counter.

When

Now

the

he rattled the

door squeezing through, he was overweight, and they would cut

down on his handouts. Man, how she loved him.

If

anything had happened to him

She organized her body for sleep but her mind thoughts sial

flitted in

resisted.

.

.

Her

a jumble, eventually landing on the controver-

subject of pierced ears.

Her

father

had taken the joking ap-

proach which he used when he was adamant but didn't want to show. "Okay, Inky,"

want

to get

through

.

he

okay with

said, "it's

me— anytime

it

you

your nose pierced at the same time and wear a bone

it."

Tomorrow she would to-father letter.

write

He was on

him a

long, appealing, daughter-

an antelope-hunting

trip in

Wyoming,

He had been suffering recently from exhaustion and needed rest. He blamed it all on D.C. "That cat," he said. "I think I've got a hair ball. Other men get ulcers, I get a

near a town called Gillette.

hair ball."

At eight she had discovered that her father was most susceptible

when he was away from home, and seldom

He would be homesick

est wish.

cluding D.C, great father,

whom

for her, for all of them,

he pretended to loathe.

and she would

him

tell

She had already picked out her

first

that dangled a couple of inches.

refused her slight-

He was

even

in-

really a

so in her best purple prose.

Mexican

earrings,

They would add

silver

ones

at least a year

to her age.

Then, right in the midst of happily contemplating the ear-

was quite pronounced, and listening intently, she pegged the location. It was coming from just beyond the window. Her heart zoomed in its beat as she slipped out of bed. Moving rings, she

again heard the thinking.

noiselessly

It

toward the window, she remembered the board that

squeaked and by-passed

it.

She remembered,

kicked her shoes and skirted that hazard. heater clanked, and she froze.

It

too,

where she had

Then the hot-water

clanked another time, and once 13

more, and was

and she took a deep breath, as she had to get the old blood moving again. She stopped a foot or two from the window to reconnoiter, and was debating her next step when she saw the man. He stood motionless as a fence post, not more than four feet away. His form merged on one side into the dark shrubbery, and on the other, stood out in profile, back-lighted by a shaft of moonlight. She couldn't be certain, it was too dark, but something about his stance indicated his gaze was aimed in another direction. He was not tall, nor short, and she could not make out his features been taught

in

silent,

gym class,

or even his approximate age.

She wanted to scream. Everything inside her yelled at her to cry out for help but even

when her

imagination pictured him

with furry face and hands and long fangs, she

still

stood para-

lyzed.

Then a loud banging and crashing came

over, explosive

and

magnified a thousand times by the tension of the moment, and the whole house seemed to shake. Racing as

Mans

if

he

felt

the

Wolf

hot breath on him, D.C. hit his private entrance, and des-

perate to get his bulging sides through, threatened to tear the

door from

its

That did

hinges.

it.

She screamed.

bacon to a warm platter and began breaking the eggs into the sizzling skillet. She heard the old familiar hiss, the same as yesterday and all the days before. An egg slipped out of her hand and spattered on the freshly Patti

mopped

floor,

removed the

crisp

and she muttered

in vexation.

She was a well-

adjusted and co-ordinated person, and her erratic movements this

morning upset

her.

had come, two young officers. They had been courteous but cursory. They had played their flashlights under every bush, and gone through the shoddily built Shortly after three, the police

14

garage that was packed high with valuables no one had looked at in ten years or ever would.

The

car sat nights in the driveway

collecting dust and, occasionally, fog.

On

leaving, they

They looked

hood, and that a cruise car would patrol the

The

inside

it,

too.

promised they would check out the neighbor-

older officer took Patti to one side.

street.

"Don t open

the door

tonight for anyone. Anyone, see? This guy could be someone you

know— even

a friend.

We've got

to figure he's either a burglar,

peeping Tom, or some kind of a psycho

a rapist, a

like a strangler.

We had a rape near here the other night." When

they were gone, Patti repeated the conversation to In-

and added,

grid,

"I wouldn't' ve told

you but we've both got to be

on guard." Ingrid would sleep with her until their father returned. After

some discussion, they decided against notifying him. He had not had a vacation in years. Through all of the coming and going and loud talk, Mike slept soundly. D.C. had joined him, and he, too, was fast asleep. A few minutes after the officers left, Mrs. Macdougall, the next door neighbor, hustled in. She had no figure, no beginning and no ending, but what she lacked in form she made up with a zeal for learning the neighborhood's

quarrels,

sins,

menus, diet cam-

romances, television preferences,

paigns, pregnancies, job firings

and

items that comprise the gamut of

moved day

or night that her quick,

mistakes,

transgressions,

hirings,

human little

and

the other

all

existence.

Nothing

bird eyes, aided at

times by powerful binoculars, did not follow. Only her husband,

He once told her she was a snoopy, meddling busybody who'd end up with a butt full of buck-

Wilbur, handicapped her. old,

shot.

He

garnished that verdict with a few choice blasphemies,

then proceeded to turn

off his

hearing aid.

"You poor, poor dears," she said when she heard what had "I had a cousin once— she was a second cousin come

happened.

to think of it—no, she

and the

was a

third because

Randolph was

boy—well, she was in bed and this man came window and strangled her. Left no marks at all. his

my

first

in through

Folks said

*5

likely

to

he was a piano player. Such strong

fingers.

You

got a

gun

defend yourselves?"

When

Patti shook her head, Mrs.

Macdougall pulled out a

she had been holding under her robe. "Always keep

Got another,

pillow.

"I don't

so

know," Patti

you take said.

it

under

.38

my

this/'

"We've never

"Don't matter whether you hit him.

fired a gun."

It'll

scare the living day-

Caught Wilbur coming in a back window one his key. Missed him by a good two feet. take him to the doc the next day—he couldn't quit shak-

lights outta him.

night.

Had

He'd clean forgot

to

ing."

Mike,

who had

cleaned windows for the Macdougalls,

ported the place was an arsenal.

Weapons were hidden

re-

every-

where, small hand arms in flower pots, a shotgun in an ancient

umbrella rack, and a .38 behind a rubber plant. Mrs. Macdougall

was not about

to

be taken without a gun

battle.

dropped two slices of bread into the toaster. She needed up her eyelids. Neither she nor Ingrid had slept. She must look a wreck. A cold shower, ice cubes on the eyelids followed by Murine, and a careful make-up job should do the trick. And maybe a brisk turn around the block before she reported for work at the Exclusive Shop in Beverly Hills where Patti

toothpicks to prop

she was a combination model and salesgirl.

From

the backyard

came the

filtered voices of

Mike, Ingrid,

and Zeke. She hadn't called Zeke until an hour ago since he needed his sleep. He had been working twelve and fourteen hours a day on an extortion case. He had come over at once and was running what he described as a crime-scene search. She hurried. She wanted nothing more than to be out there with him. Their moments together were so

The second she

brief.

started the can opener, a black streak penciled

ended at her feet, and rose in exclamation point. If that cat were in his grave, the sound of the can opener would resurrect him. There was no symphony quite as stirring. across the kitchen,

"No, 16

it's

not for you," she told him, pouring the orange

juice.

He

promptly hopped up on a

and from there propelled

stool

himself to the top of the refrigerator.

From

that vantage point

he could assure himself he was not missing out on any edible

Most human food was not fit for cat consumption, although at breakfast he would accept a bite or two of bacon, to be sociable. Nothing they ate, however, compared with a good, juicy food.

lizard's tail.

Mike stormed in, letting the back door slam. Between D.C. and that boy, Patti thought, they would soon need a carpenter. "That guy last night walked all over my worm garden."

Mike had been hurt

that they

had not awakened him. He

might have caught the intruder before the police arrived. proceeded

now

to

rough up D.C, who put

his ears

He

back and

clenched his boy's wrist between his teeth but didn't bear down.

Mike threw him back against the wall and D.C. almost slid off. for more but sheathed his claws as he grabbed

He came back an arm.

"Don't be so rough," Patti admonished.

'Who's rough? You old wildcat, you." D.C. liked it. Mike was the only one who would wrestle with him. Before his Uncle Willie died—Willie was a large orange-colored cat, and his idol, since Willie had protected him in his kitten days from all kinds of dangers out in the

bush country— the two had wrestled every Sometimes, though, Uncle Willie

morning, no holds barred.

would get mad and swat him one that would send him skidding across the kitchen. D.C. always recognized the swat as the final bell.

"Your old worms!" Ingrid said in disgust. She started setting the breakfast-nook table. "Who's going to

buy them?"

"They're big business in Canada," Mike said. "They've got in

vending machines and I'm going to

sell

the idea

down

them

here."

"Candy bars and worms. Yuck!" She turned to Patti. "I'm going math test. I just know I am. I'm so shook up. Zeke doesn't think it was a peeping Tom." "If any guy ever saw you nakedj' Mike said, "he'd drop dead.

to flunk that

I've seen a lot of horror films

but—" 17

"Mike Randall!"

Patti shouted.

He washed

"Okay, okay."

hands in the kitchen sink and

his

dried them on the dishtowel. "I was being objective. In business,

you got

up

to face

to the facts."

bowl

"That's enough, Mike. Sit down." She put a

kidney on the

from a can.

He

"Come

floor.

Do you want to

on,

come

chopped

of

on," she said to D.C. "It's

see the label?"

and one particular brand. Thank

liked only canned food

goodness, he thought, he wasn't like that garbage disposal three

down who wolfed

doors

Patti

emptied

was

said that

his

common

leftovers like a

water bowl and

He

ridiculous.

refilled

hadn't used

it

it.

dog. Ingrid, watching,

in months.

He

pre-

ferred to dip his tongue into flower bowls, detergent dishwater,

the

swimming pool two doors away where he had

neck a foot to lap

had been

to extend his

up, and the bathroom, just after someone

it

He would

in the tub.

rush in and wipe up the few re-

maining drops with the urgency of a

man dying

of thirst.

Or

rather, a cat. "I

hope daddy puts him

"Yeah,

maybe

"Well,

it

what

if

he'll

makes

in his will," Ingrid said.

leave

him your

share,"

Mike suggested.

sense. I got to thinking, that

something should happen to

all

man

Who'd

of us?

last night,

take care of

D.C?" "Yeah, the

Manson gang,

if

we

all

got

mowed down

or

knifed, blood all over everything."

him something than some of the relatives Uncle George. That old grump. You should leave what

"I'd rather leave

we've

got.

you've got to people

who

love you. Not because they're rela-

tives."

Patti said, "See

if

Zeke wants to come

in."

Mike yelled out the

door and reported back that Zeke had had breakfast. at least

have come

course. Zeke

was

He

in for coffee, Patti thought. It was

allergic to cats. It

could

D.C,

was mutual. D.C. was

of

allergic

to him.

Ingrid asked the blessing. She was tempted to ask give

18

Mike and

his sins.

She had once, and

all hell

God

to for-

had broken

morning she simply did not have the stamina

loose. This

for a

scene.

"You're sure

it

wasn't Greg?" Patti asked her unexpectedly.

"How

Ingrid looked at her in shock.

could you, Patti?

How

could you?"

Mike got up

to go.

He

who had paw on

could eat faster than D.C,

taken over their fathers chair and, braced by a tentative

was straining his neck Mike announced.

the table, to rain,"

"Get your elbows ter

to

check out the food.

off the table," Patti told

"It's

going

D.C. "You know bet-

than that. Not while we're in the room. Don't you remember?

You wait till we get out." D.C. removed his paw. He recognized the tone. "You know if Mrs. Macdougall had lived in Pilgrim times," Mike continued unnoticed, "they'd of burned her at the stake. Sizzz! She's weird— knows all, sees all." "Patti!" Ingrid shouted.

"What makes you "Sis!" Ingrid

think

it's

going to rain, Mike?" Patti asked.

screamed. "You say something terrible— and then

you—"

"Now

don't get into a tizzy."

That had been

their mother's

mean Greg was spying on you. But know how that woman gets any sleep-

favorite expression. "I didn't

Mrs. Macdougall— I don't said

when

she got

up

a couple of nights ago, she

ing a cat— she was sure

it

was

D.C— across

saw a man chas-

her front yard. So

thought that maybe Greg'd chased him over here, like

I

when he

him on fire, and then he'd gotten trapped. Greg, I mean. Discovered someone was watching him and he hid in the

tried to set

bushes."

"Oh, client

sis."

Ingrid was constantly defending Greg.

for her. Also, the very first

had "I

He had

a

with a movie theater and Greg frequently finagled passes

let

day she had her

he

driver's license,

her drive his sports car.

know

it's

going to rain," Mike said. "Mrs. Macdougall

putting her cans out."

Each

fall,

to save

on the water

bill,

is

she

spotted large cans around the yard to catch the winter rain.

19

"Somebody's got a barking sounded as "It's

new

if it

dog," Patti said, clearing the table.

were

in the next

The

room.

in the garage," Ingrid said with a touch of malice.

"The garage?" "You know old Mrs. Beall on the corner?" Mike French poodle. Well, twelve dollars and

she's

fifty

said. "It's

her

on Social Security, and they get

cents at the vet's to clip a poodle. Best

you can do. And I told her I'd do it for three-fifty. dog up this morning. I'm going into the business."

I

picked the

"You've got to have a city permit," Ingrid told him. "You're

going to get arrested." "I

hope

so. I

need the advertising. Think of

all

the business I'd

get!"

After the coolness and

blinded

Patti.

lanky frame.

shadow

Then she spotted

He was on

his

the

of the kitchen, the sun

rump end

of Zeke's

tall,

knees pulling shrubbery aside. "Hi,"

she said softly.

His long neck contracted as he extracted his head. gentle blue eyes,

He had

and a deeply tanned face weathered by the the Nevada wastelands where he had grown

wind and sand of up. "Everybody gone?" She nodded and squatted down by him, and their bodies touched, and a surge of longing swept her. She held the kiss until her legs began to waver. "What're you looking for?" she asked. He rose on muscles hardened by countless miles of hard riding over burning nothingness, and walked to a sagging wooden gate. "Did the police see that?" The hasp and padlock were gone. "The guy didn't have any problem with it. The wood's rotten. I thought he might have tossed it somewhere around here and

we might

get fingerprints."

Her gaze 20

drifted about the yard, to the old familiar scenes.

Years ago they had played croquet here,

when croquet was

popular, and she could hear her mother laughing as she drove

the ball through the wickets. At the far end, gradually falling apart,

mean

was the Ping-Pong table where her mother had wielded a racquet.

was a scene that frightened her. A man shrubbery and flowers only a few hours ago, a man who intended them harm. "I'm scared," she said. He took her hand and held it softly in his rough one. He laughed quietly. "Have no fear. The great FBI is here." He led her into the yard. "How was the shower?" he asked. But now

all

of this

had crept about

in the

"Fun."

Or

"Didja get any good loot? "Well, five.

we

aren't going to

And a champagne

a lot of white elephants?"

need any

ice buckets for a while.

Got

cooler big as an umbrella stand."

At that moment, the back door shook and D.C. squeezed through his trap door.

ceeded with goal

in

He

mind

glanced neither right nor to the rose

left

but pro-

garden where he started

digging with considerable energy. Yelling,

Zeke descended upon him but D.C. stood

his ground,

He had had

a savage gleam in his squinty, calculating eyes.

encounters with this monster, and never yielded. Not of his kids

other

when any

were around.

"He's destroying the evidence," Zeke said, grinding to a halt.

He remembered

in time that

this little barbarian,

and

if

he was marrying

Patti,

he dared put a foot

who

loved

to him, there

might be serious repercussions. "There's a footprint there," he

added weakly. D.C. advanced a step and delivered a primeval

spit

with

all

the fury he could muster.

"Same

to you, old

"What'd you say?"

man," Zeke muttered. Patti asked in quick suspicion.

"Nothing, nothing. Just asked

him

to kindly

remove

his carcass

from the evidence." "I

wish you two'd get along/' 21

"Some men have mothers-in-law.

I've got a cat."

"Zeke Kelso!"

He

took her in his arms, knowing

full

well that Mrs.

dougall was watching from a second-story

manned with the dedication of an do like him. You know I do." She looked up. "You're a

liar

she

old Indian scout. "Honestly, I

and a hypocrite, Mr. Kelso."

"That's only hearsay. Won't hold

He had

Mac-

window which

up

in court."

tried to put aside his prejudices.

He

honestly had. It

wasn't only the fact that he was allergic to D.C., and sneezed

when he was around him, but somewhere

in his childhood

incurred an intense dislike of the entire feline tribe.

dog man, and always had been back in his boyhood, but his

pals

He

could not explain

been beholden

would have met

Patti,

As

it.

D.C.

to

If it

for a handout.

He had

a

and a collie had been went deeper than that.

since he bias

Patti pointed out,

he should have

hadn't been for the cat, he never

and there would be no wedding.

when D.C. wandered

started

he had

He was

It

had

all

into a strange apartment looking

returned

home

that night with a wrist-

by a woman bank teller held hostage by two criminals. Zeke had been assigned the case —to run surveillance on D.C. in the hope D.C. would lead the FBI to the apartment.

watch around

his

neck, put there

Eventually D.C. did— and ended up getting the credit and the

The media built him into something Walt Disney even made a film about him.

publicity.

hero.

Up

like a national

there in her eyrie, Mrs. Macdougall pulled the glass cur-

view of young love that had no shame, no shame whatsoever. "Disgusting!" she said, giv-

tains aside a covert inch to get a better

ing the

word a coughing

her navel. "In ".

.

.

my

day

we sneaked

inflection

.

off into the dark," finished

passing by, coffee in hand.

"Wilbur!"

22

produced by an upheaval of

." .

Wilbur,

"Do you remember—"

who was

They stood

arm about her. "There're four good bed outside In grid's room— and over

in the yard, his

footprints in the flower

there"— he indicated a hibiscus twenty feet struggle took place.

may

Some branches

away—"it

looks like a

He

broken, leaves scattered.

And there're a couple footprints don't know why he moved around

have slipped and fallen.

worm

Mike's

garden. I

in

so

much." "Let's

doubt

it.

be honest, Zeke.

And he

He

could have been a burglar but

wasn't a peeping

Tom

because we'd

all

been

I

in

bed a couple of hours. So what does that leave?"

He

held her tighter.

She continued, "I'm scared for Ingrid. She doesn't take seriously because she doesn't

know

fear.

this

At her age everything's

an adventure." "I'm coming over to stay tonight."

"Mrs. Macdougall

.

."

.

she began.

"So what?"

She laughed. "So what/'

Somehow

or other she found herself in the bushes that filled a

corner where two flanking walls met, and

somehow

or other in

the half dark, half light and fresh smell of greenery their bodies

melded. She

felt

the throbbing of his heart and heard the wild

beat of her own, and

somehow

or other

it

seemed

as

if

there

had

been no lurking man, no nightmarish night, and never would be.

That night Zeke

slept at the Randall

home on

a back-

yard chaise that he placed alongside the garage. Several times

he awoke with a

stiff

neck and paralyzed

legs,

and looked out

over a scene bathed in moonlight. Nothing stirred, not even the

wind.

D.C. chose to curl up between Patti and Ingrid. Usually he slept at the foot of the

bed but now he sensed that something ^3

was

amiss.

Any

little

changes in routine would tip him

off,

or

voices off their normal level, or an increase in tensions.

Shortly after breakfast, Zeke

"Don't

car.

let

down your

nothing happened

out.

Patti

walked with him

to his

guard," he said quietly, "just because

last night."

Mike rode by on he called

left.

his cycle. "Don't let

any goblins get you,"

Tonight was Hallowe'en. Zeke shouted back, "Same

to you."

D.C. jumped up on the hood and walked about with a proprietary

air.

acts excited

He

took a couple of turns across the windshield.

humans more than a

he looked up in

all

cat on a car. Patti shouted

Few and

innocence. There was one cardinal rule he

had learned in kittenhood. Never look guilty. She clapped her hands, which was a rather silly act in itself, and he slowly walked across the hood to the other side, looked down, and taking his time— to indicate he had intended all along to do just this— jumped down. Passing Zeke, he spat, and, very satisfied with himself, walked on. "D.C!" Patti reprimanded. He pretended he had not heard. Zeke had discovered long ago that all cats suffered from a peculiar medical phenomenon: periodic lapses of hearing. The degree varied from slight deafness, indicated by a flick of an ear or twitch of a tail, to total deafness in which there was no response.

Mrs. Macdougall materialized. Despite her

size,

that

woman

could pop up without warning. "Didn't sleep a wink. Not a wink.

Up

all

night watching."

Watching Zeke and me,

was good eyes darted from

Patti thought. "That

Patti told her. Mrs. Macdougall's little

of you," Patti to

Zeke and back again. They said clearly that she could put two

and two together and the answer was a ning with a big red

A off.

word begin-

horn honked nearby and she was a dirigible ready to take

"My

goodness," she said and hurried away.

Smiling broadly, Alan Webster,

"Web" 24

three-letter

S. Sin!

or "the

Web," stepped out

known among of an ancient

his peers

as

Volkswagen

waxed and groomed like an 1890 mustache. The windshield was spotless and not a speck of dust marred the replaced chrome. "Hi, Miss Randall, Mr. Kelso." He was about Ingrid's age, and hungry-looking and tall in his black boots. Unlike his car, everything about him was in studied disarray, the jeans, the flowered shirt that a hummingbird would love, and the massive belt with the massive western buckle.

Web

down

the street with his widowed up at 2:30 a.m. to deliver the Los Angeles Times, and Saturdays worked as a box boy at the Westward Ho supermarket. He was inordinately proud of the fact that he supported himself and helped his mother. His two most valued possessions were his old car, named Zacharia, after no one in lived three doors

mother who was

particular,

He

ill.

got

and a battered trumpet that he played

school band.

He

loved the old horn; he took

it

in the high

everywhere, and

when waiting

for Ingrid, would practice. "The only thing worse you could' ve taken up with would have been a drummer," Patti told her.

He and

Ingrid were constantly together, at one or the other's

homes, a fact that concerned George Randall, usually a gentle, tolerant father. "It's

that all the time."

no good," he told

Patti,

And when Web gave

"being together like

Ingrid a promise ring,

had to restrain him. She more than going steady but not as much as being engaged. She's not going to run off and marry him, if that's what you're thinking." Her father was not so sure. "How do you know?" he asked, and Patti said flatly, "I know. I was her age once myself, remember?" Ingrid came running from the house, and Web hurried around to open the door, which balked. Mike, riding away, shouted back, "Get a Can opener." Web yanked some more and, with much screeching, the door yielded. Then he couldn't get it shut, and Ingrid had to hold it closed. "Happens every time," she said, George Randall blew

his stack,

and

explained, "The ring

means a

little

Patti

laughing.

After considerable use of the starter, the innards groaned and

shuddered, and the car took

off in

slow motion. Patti turned to

25

make

Zeke. "They're not going to last half

Seldom

it.

do. They'll

walk the

mile to school."

his car's motor, and she leaned in the window to him good-bye. This was the way, she thought, it would soon be every morning. She would walk to the car with him and they would kiss good-bye. What a glorious way to begin a day.

Zeke started

kiss

En

route

home

that evening, she planned the night.

taking Ingrid to a enterprise.

The

frighten them.

Haunted House

When

she was

little,

days to

these

Patti recalled, she got her

down

Hallowe'en kicks from shuddering and shivering street

was

Culver City, a commercial

in

paid professionals

teen-agers

Web

a dark

with amateur ghouls and ghosts ready to pounce. In the

era before that,

it

was daring each other

walk through a ceme-

to

tery.

She would get

Web

to stay close to Ingrid.

and was going

aside, explain the situation,

Mike would be bound

as a pirate, taking

and ask him

for a private party,

an old Samurai sword their

had brought back from Japan after World War II. She dreaded to think what could happen if Mike were set upon.

father

Since Zeke doubted

be

if

he would arrive before

ten, she

would

alone to answer the door for the trick-and-treaters. Zeke

left

had admonished her not

answer but she could not disappoint

to

would ask Mrs. Macdougall over, them. Mrs. Macdougall was certain to

the neighborhood kids. She

and heaven help both of bring a shotgun.

He was whom he

D.C. raced to meet her at the door.

When

a door opened, he didn't care

getting through. She

zipping

it

went

to

to Ingrid.

change into a housecoat. She was

up when she heard

mirror at her hair, flounced

When

there

no gentleman. knocked down

it,

Ingrid's voice.

and, going

She glanced in the

down

the hall, called

was no answer, she raised her

voice, then

hearing a commotion close-by in the backyard, stopped and tensed.

Dogs somewhere— in the garage, she thought—yelped

wildly. Hurrying, she called again to Ingrid.

In the dining room, she stood at the picture

26

window

overlook-

ing the yard. Nothing stirred in the darkness and the strange noise that she could not

peg was no more. She glanced through

the other rooms, and lingered a

moment

crimson graphic on one wall of a

under

"Let

it:

me

in Ingrid's.

girl riding into

A

today do something that will take a

ness from this world."

A

brilliant

the sunset, and little

sad-

photograph of a rock singer over the

and a Ringling Brothers circus poster. A bulletin board with school mementos, theater and concert tickets, and a slogan: "Love your enemies. It drives them nuts." And beyond the locked window, the hibiscus where the prowler had hidden. She definitely had heard Ingrid. She could not be mistaken and she was not losing her mind. Once again she was cold with the fear of two nights before. She thought of calling Zeke or the police, but what would she tell them? Only that she had heard a voice? That sounded ridiculous. But many sane people did hear voices. Ghost voices. They came out of nowhere and never could be explained. By now the dogs had quieted and she rationalized that Ingrid had probably dashed into the house for some reason, dresser

then gone

off

with Web.

In the kitchen she expected to find D.C. waiting for his tuna sit up on his haunches. He was a very He prayed twice a day in front of the refrigerator.

dinner, ready to cat.

religious

But there was no D.C. waiting. At the back door, she whistled and called his name. Always on Halloween, they shut him in a bedroom. Too many tricksters picked up black cats. She got the silent whistle that hung alongside the car keys on a kitchen wall. She

felt silly

blowing that whistle, which a human

could not hear. Tonight, though,

She blew and blew, and

it

called,

was her lifeline

to D.C.

but he did not come.

6 Mrs. Macdougall did

come over and did bring

a shot-

gun, an old automatic that was a collectors item. She sat on the sofa facing the outside door, the

gun

across her lap, her lips set

determinedly.

27

A ties.

Mike and Ingrid had left for their parhad not been home earlier. Patti was posi-

half hour before,

Ingrid swore she

tive. "I

heard your voice.

"When you

get older

I couldn't've .

.

."

imagined

it."

Ingrid said blithely, and Patti took

a swat at her.

The

came and went in droves. They were of all ages, from toddlers brought by their parents to high school students who by now should have quit the racket. The arrival of every contingent was announced by the yelp-yelp of the dogs. As Patti nervously handed out candy bars, she was more fearful of trick-and-treaters

being shot in the back than of the few adults

who

the background watching their offspring. D.C.

still

lingered in

had not

re-

turned but that could be explained by the excitement of Hal-

He was

lowe'en.

a law-and-order

doctrine of a stable society.

Still,

man who

believed in Plato's

small fears scampered mice-like

over her.

At

ten, after

Mrs. Macdougall had left—when

it

was apparent

would be no more customers—the FBI switchboard operwould be unable to keep his appointment with Miss Randall. He was "involved." That meant the extortion case had broken. Mike burst in then. He had his Samurai sword unsheathed and came lunging for her. She dodged, and shouted, "Quit that, there

ator called. Mr. Kelso, she said cryptically,

Mike! You almost knocked over mother s flower vase. ther gets

He those

home

When

fa-

." .

.

gave her the kid-brother grin that infuriated her. "And

dogs—how many have you got out there

"Only

in the garage?"

three."

"Get rid of them tomorrow. We're not running a kennel."

She collapsed into a

chair.

She was emotionally spent. Mrs.

Macdougall with her shotgun, the ghouls and monsters coming

and going, the dogs barking, the ing, the

night,

call

possibility of the

prowler return-

mforming her Zeke would not be coming

and D.C. gone— all had taken a

When 28

phone

to-

toll.

she told Mike that D.C. was missing, he asked for the

He would

flashlight.

go under the house. D.C. might be sick or

hurt.

Suddenly the front door burst open, and Ingrid stood there, mouth, her head a bloody mess, and her clown

foaming

at the

suit torn

and

Web was

immediately behind her.

dirty.

and rushed

Parti screamed,

and

Web

joined

She staggered in and leaned against a wall. to her. Ingrid burst out laughing,

in.

Patti stared in shock

"Get out of here.

and

disbelief

ever want to

I don't

and then shrieked at her. see you again. Never. You

hear? Don't ever, ever come back." Ingrid controlled her laughter.

been threatening fore she

me

"Remember

with some kind of

had been elected

I told

initiation."

you they'd

The week

be-

senior class president.

Web nodded gleefully.

"They shot shaving cream over her face, then poured ketchup on her hair and sprinkled corn flakes over her. Looks like her brains were spilling out, doesn't it? I risked

my life trying to protect

"You did

her."

not!"

"Well, I wasn't going to die for you. I'm too young."

"Very juvenile," Mike said in disgust. "D.C.'s missing. I'm going

under the house."

They waited while he squirmed under.

Patti,

who was seldom

angry, gave Ingrid the silent treatment, and Ingrid

the quick. Patti

was more than a

sister;

was cut

to

she was her best friend in

whom she could confide her most sacred thoughts. "He's not here," flashlight in hand,

Mike

called back.

With Mike leading the way,

they checked other favorite spots—under an

where it was cool on a hot day, a depression under a hedge that was his lookout for dogs and other savage beasts roaming the street, and a tree crotch where he could look out arborvitae

over his domain. After Ingrid rubbed off the ketchup with an old towel, they

roamed up and down the street, Ingrid calling, Patti blowing the silent whistle, Mike playing the flashlight under bushes, and Web getting in the way. Ingrid

and Mike even invaded Greg

Baiter's

29

Once before, when D.C. failed to check in, it developed Greg had caught him pillaging the garage, and locked him "to teach him a lesson."

yard. that in,

About midnight they gave up the

search.

Web

then, failing to get his car started, decided he

push

it.

late ice

He

good

said

night,

was too weak

to

hadn't had his after-dinner snack of a quart of choco-

cream and

pizza.

So he walked the hundred yards to

his

home. In the house, Mike, armed with his sword, looked in closets and under beds. Patti, her spirits dragging, locked the doors and windows. They assured each other a youngster had shut

D.C. up, and he would be back as soon as he was freed the next day. But their protestations were without the backing of any true

coin of belief.

Ingrid

When

washed her

hair,

and the bowl ran red with ketchup.

she joined Patti, she was near tears. "I'm sorry,

sis.

I

shouldn't have done that to you."

The iceberg between them melted. It took only a few words. "I did the same at seventeen," Patti confessed. "With ketchup?" "Kids have been doing

it

ever since ketchup was invented."

She smiled, remembering. "We'd turn out the

lights

and run the

poor character through the whole bloody murder routine—peeled grapes for the corpse's eyes, a mess of spaghetti for his brains, a

hunk

of cow's liver—it

rubber glove

filled

was cheap once, honestly— for

with ice water for a hand

Exhausted, Ingrid

fell

his liver, a

." .

.

asleep but Patti listened to the night

sounds, the creaking of arthritic joints in the old house, the

rumble of

tires,

the whackety-whack of a police helicopter flying

low, the plaintive hoot of the sad owl high in the evergreen tree,

the sough of leaves as a light breeze puffed in through a mountain pass from the ocean, and once a man's trudging footsteps on the

sidewalk that stirred a primitive fear until they faded.

She was dozing when the dogs barked. Their high-pitched, frantic yelps shattered the stillness. It was a sound from out of 30

the books of her childhood— and

still

terrifying— of the hounds of

the Baskervilles loose on the moors of old England.

Someone had to be stirring. Slowly she rose, careful not to awaken Ingrid. At the window, she pulled the curtains ever so slowly apart, and smiled. A tawny, yellow cat was crossing the yard. This was a cat D.C. never bothered. He came and went as he pleased. Their father had said he must have a permanent easement over the property.

Her gaze switched quickly arated their lot

hedge that sepfrom the Macdougalls. Something crouching was to a five-foot-tall

Through small gaps in the hedge she could discern a figure but not clearly enough to determine the sex. The object was headed toward the street. It paused, and this time seemed to peer through the hedge toward Patti, who instinctively backed away. The figure pulled the hedge apart and stepped through, and Patti, heart beating hard, was about to reach for the nightstand phone when she recognized one of those little identifying movements peculiar to every individual. The object was Mrs. Macdougall. She was in that old beaten robe that dated to World War II, and no doubt had a gun secreted inside its fold. She was out scouting for the prowler. Patti wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to shout at her to go home and stop scaring people. Instead, she slipped back under the covers, and shortly afterward the dogs quit giving the old medieval castle alarm, and she tried to sleep. She desperately needed it. The next day she would be modeling clothes at a women's luncheon, and who wanted a haggard, bloodshot-eyed model dragging around? Her thoughts kept going to D.C, little scenes that the memory moving along

there.

encased through a fogged the

SPCA

for

two

dollars,

lens.

The time they

first

got

him from

and how he hid in a closet for three and terrified of this new world. The

days, grieving for his mother

time he discovered the backyard, and a plane flew low, and he stood his ground and spat at

it.

Later, he

ing forth cautiously into shrubs and trails.

He

was the explorer ventur-

down

swatted at flying insects, tracked

well-worn, old, cat

down

bugs, played

31

with lizards and chased grasshoppers, but when he found a Jerusalem beetle in

what

to

make

of

then pulling

it

he

its

let it

not

go

made

all

He

it.

ghastly nakedness, he didn't

its

circled

it,

know

tentatively reaching out a

paw,

back quickly, advancing and retreating. Eventually way. Some moving things, he had learned, were

Once he had discovered the outdoors, Patti him in. He never failed to answer her whistle, but he would sometimes come close and

for play.

found

it difficult

call or

the silent

to get

mew softly, a child asking if he could stay out a little longer. At

she

last

fell into

how much

idea

later

the deep sleep of exhaustion. She had no it

was when the phone

rang. It sounded

almost in her ear since her head rested high on a pillow crushed against the nightstand. Instantly she

had programed her

for such

was awake,

as

her mind

if

an eventuality. Scrambling for the

it and a glass of water to the floor. She was on the carpet at once, fumbling for the receiver. I should turn on a light, she thought. Stupid, turn on a light! But she continued frantically moving her hands until she located the phone.

phone, she knocked both

"Hello," she said, breathless.

"What took you never heard

it

so long?" It

was a man s rough

voice.

She had

before.

She reacted as she did with peremptory people. Her back and tone stiffened. "Who's this?"

"None

of your

damned

business but I got something to

tell

you— about your cat— and you'd better get it the first time because I'm not going to repeat it. You got that, kid?" Her voice shot up. "You got our cat?" "I got him— and I'm holding him for ransom. Three hundred thousand dollars in twenties and fifties. You got that? In twenties and

fifties.

he's

dead

your

I'm going to strangle him, squeeze his if

sister. I

I

don't get it— and then I'm

got this

strangle someone,

damn

coming

thing building

some gorgeous broad

little

up

like you.

neck

for

until

you and

in me. I got to

But

if I

get the

up tell and night tomorrow you but I'll call you back, kid. I'll call you where to bring the money. You get it tomorrow— and if you three hundred thou I won't hurt you or the cat. I'm hanging

32

run to the police or the FBI your sisters dead.

And

not quick

dead, you're dead, your

cat's

like. I

get

my

kicks out of seeing

people die slow. You know, gasping for breath, eyes popping, turning purple.

I'll

you watch your be a preview, so you know how

get you or your sister and let

cat squirm around

and

you're going to get

it.

die.

Okay,

It'll

that's all."

The connection broke with a finality that rocked her. "Sis, sis, what is it? Who was that?" Ingrid switched on the light. The man had talked so loudly she had heard a good part of the conversation.

She couldn't get her

Patti sat stunned, deafened, sweating.

body

in motion, couldn't pick

returned gether.

it

to the nightstand.

Who's going

to kill us?

up the phone. Ingrid did and

"Come

on,

pull yourself to-

What'd he say?"

Slowly Patti rose, took a deep gulp of he's

sis,

"He's got D.C. and

air.

holding him for ransom. Three hundred thousand dollars.

Didja ever hear anything so wild? Where's he think we're going to get the

money? He talked

like

a psycho. He's go* to be a

psycho" She remembered then. "He's going to get

kill

D.C.

if

he doesn't

it."

Ingrid began crying. "He's dead, Patti

dropped

isn't

to the bed, put the

started dialing. "No, hon, he's all right.

Suddenly she hung up. "He

may be

he?

I

know he's

dead."

phone alongside Hell be

her,

and

all right."

outside listening.

He may

have the phone bugged."

Bogie emerged from the lighted telephone booth outside the closed supermarket six blocks from the Randall home, took a

He felt good. He had really put the whammy on that broad. He could still hear the gasp when he told her he had the cat. Pump enough fear into them and they'd deep breath, and grinned.

do anything, Auntie had told him repeatedly, and she was

right.

33

Dead

right.

windpipe a

You worked on them little

squeezing the old

slowly,

tighter each time. It

was a marvelous kind

of

strangulation of the mind.

Swiftly he cased the deserted parking

ghostly in the night

lot,

shadows, and the quiet street where his car was parked. 1968 dark blue Chevrolet. Must be a million of them road.

He wished he owned

a

little

still

a

on the

red Datsun sport job, but job.

Fade

Dead

right.

imagine collecting a $300,000 ransom in a red sport into the background, Auntie said,

He had

and she was

right.

Look anonymous, act stupid, drive old cars. One thing she had told him when he was a kid, it's what youve got upstairs, boy, that counts. And he had plenty upstairs. He was always one jump ahead of everybody, including Auntie, who was no slouch, except her gears did not mesh as fast as they once had. He took his time lighting a cigarette and noted he needed a manicure.

He

enjoyed

little

luxuries like that. Tonight

contemporary expensive-bum

a

patched

jeans.

He

look,

exhaled and stretched.

a

he sported

patched jacket and

He

stretched often.

He

stood only five feet six in his elevator shoes.

He

pulled the car out slow and easy from the curb. His

name

was Bogart but he wanted his friends to call him Bogie. When Auntie had picked him up off the streets when he was ten, he told her he had no other name, just Bogie. But later he had had to add a first name— Harry. It was the nearest he dared come to Humphrey. He had seen every Humphrey Bogart movie, and some many times. He patterned his talk and actions after the actor. He never told Auntie about this, and since she had never seen a Bogart film, she had no way of knowing what he was doing.

The

last picture

silent version,

and she

she had seen was King of Kings, the

still

talked about

person, although she seldom said,

went

it.

to church.

She was a religious She wanted

to,

she

but attendance invariably brought on a migraine head-

ache.

He had talent.

treated

34

never loved her, although he admired her for her

But now, to

him

as she

tell

the truth, she got on his nerves. She

had when he was twelve.

It

was "boy"

this

and "boy"

that.

But he needed

her.

He had

to

she would never squeal. She wouldn't dare. her to put her

away

until the

have someone and

He had enough on

Second Coming.

Slowly he cruised by the Randall home. Not a light burned

and no one

stirred. Strange.

There should have been something

They had probably phoned the older sister's FBI boy friend, and he would be showing up. Bogie had hoped one of them, thinking the phone was tapped—everyone thought his phone was tapped these days— might leave the house. Someone still might come out. If it were the younger sister well, he might have a little fun with her. He had threatened the older one but he really went for the teen-agers. doing, a

.

.

little

excitement.

.

Parking a half block away, he wriggled

down

in the front seat

knew he come straight home after you make the call, you hear me, boy? You wait to get a girl until we get our money. You promise, boy?" She had rattled on but he only half heard. He was shuffling cards at the time. His ambition was to become the best card so far that he could barely see over the door. If Auntie

was taking

this chance,

she would be furious. "You

cheat in the world.

The kid

had spotted him that other night. He hadn't He had never been so frightened not even the time a cop jumped him after a bank

sister

even known she was awake. in his heist.

life,

He

still

heard the scream in

his sleep.

One

say for himself, he had the reflexes of a frog.

thing he could

He had

split

the

scene in seconds. That's what came from training every day, jogging three miles at sunup.

Keep the

arteries clear, the

blood

pumping.

When

had the idea of kidnapping a cat, it never occurred to him what a job it would be. He thought he could go out any night and pick up the animal. But the scoundrel was wary of strangers. He had more twists and turns than a rabbit. For four nights straight, he had waited in dark corners and under bushes for him to show up. He had offered him fresh liver, halibut, and filet mignon. He had wheedled and called him "putty tat" and sworn at him. He had chased him and he

first

35

cornered him, and once got hold of the

tail,

most serious mistake he had ever made in

which was the

his life.

uppers and lowers had snapped shut on his

The

cat's

leg in a death

left

was no doubt he would limp the rest of his days. The second night he realized he had to give the matter some concentrated thought. In the end, he captured him electroniclench. There

cally.

One

night he recorded Ingrid

when

she called the cat.

So the next night he had crawled around in the bushes to the cat door with his tape recorder, Ingrid's voice, the cat his knees

around the

and turned

it

on.

On

hearing

emerged. Bogie got a hammerlock on him, cat's

He

mouth.

thought the chloroform

would never take effect. If he had had his way, he would have clubbed him unconscious, but Auntie feared he might kill the beast. And that would not have been a bad idea. Why, he asked, couldn't he strangle the little monster? They could collect the ransom as easily without him as with him. For what seemed an eternity, he had managed to hold onto a twisting, thrusting, rampaging twenty-odd pounds of fury. He didn't know how all of that hurricane power could be packed in one mere cat, albeit a big one. If scientists could fathom that,

they could solve the energy

crisis.

Eventually the chloro-

form took effect, and he dropped his catch headfirst into a suitcase. At that point he discovered his right arm was running with

When

he wrapped it in an old jacket. He couldn't have bloodstains on the upholstery. After spraying it with an antiseptic, Auntie had blood. It

was a mass

of torn flesh.

he got

to the car,

bandaged it. It still pained terribly, and the urge to strangle the animal was overwhelming. The vision of delivering one very dead cat to the Randalls when they brought the ransom gave him a needed lift. For a half hour he watched the house. He had hoped the boy friend would come. Then he could phone the next night and accuse them of having reported the matter to the FBI.

He

could

them the exact time the FBI agent had entered the house, and give the man's name, Zeke Kelso. His knowledge would

tell

36

He had done

panic them.

his

thing Auntie had taught him.

He

liked the idea of the

Do

homework

well.

That was one

your homework, boy.

FBI knowing about the snatch beFBI could do crime to grab a cat. Even the local

cause there wasn't anything in God's world the

about

it.

It

was no federal

cops would put

it

down merely

as petty theft.

Doc, the old lawyer he had met in a bar one night, said that

he— Bogie—could

kill

caught him, about

the cat

all

struction of property.

petty murder

Now

if

he wanted

to,

and

if

the cops

he could be charged with would be de-

Doc had

laughed. "Guess you'd call

it

."

girls, and then hang him. But this deal was foolproof. Collect a ransom on a cat whose people loved him as a human. Let the Randall girls know, of course, he would come for them if they tried any tricks. The cat was a substitute for them. Doc had used a big legal word, a surrogate. He guessed the idea had come to him when he read about that guy kidnapping a Rembrandt painting and holding it for ransom. There even had been a go-between, and the art museum had paid off big. And that other jerk who had kidnapped a cello. A cello, mind you. He had chosen this particular cat because of all the newspaper stories about him "working" for the FBI, stories that told about the Randall family and how they adored him. For weeks he had cased the Randall home, and satisfied himself that the two girls and boy were mad over the cat. He figured, though, that the father might give him trouble. He might balk at the ransom deal. And then Randall senior had taken off on a vacation. Even Auntie, who seldom gave him his just dues, admitted it was a brilliant plan. She had said exactly that. "Brilliant, boy." Petty murder. He liked the sound of that. if

he had kidnapped one of the Randall

got caught, they might

37

8

No one left the Randall home that night and no phone was placed. Patti was adamant. The risk was too great. They would wait until morning when Zeke would drop by for breakcall

fast.

"But Zeke could be doing something," Ingrid

might catch them right away

if

insisted.

"He

we got to him."

"Someone might catch us, too," Patti countered. "I want to call Zeke and the police as much as you do, hon, but he may be out there, he may be out there waiting for us— for Zeke." She reasoned that time was not a factor. The kidnapper would make no move to harm D.C.— assuming he was still alive—until he had given them further instructions. She decided, too, against awakening Mike. He might be uncontrollable. He would want to arm himself with his Samurai sword and take off. She and Ingrid talked softly in the dark. No one in his right mind would ask a ransom of $300,000. Neither their father nor they could borrow a fraction of that. They were certain the man Ingrid had seen outside her window and the caller were the same.

He had been

"He means

it

Ingrid said. "You could

"He's faking

"You don't

stalking D.C.

about

it,"

killing us if tell

the

way he

don't get the money,"

said

it."

Patti answered, "to scare us."

really, honestly, cross

Patti hesitated. "Let's see if

They

we

we

your heart, believe that?"

can't get

some

sleep."

The hours quickened only with a dog's whisper of fall leaves, the murmur of tires, and

tried but failed.

barking, the

once a man's low whistle approaching and receding.

"You remember that old movie," Ingrid whispered, "when Robert Montgomery carried the head around in a hatbox and whistled like that.

"None of kind of

38

I

think

it

was a hatbox."

that," Patti said sharply.

talk."

"Don't psych us with that

Ingrid broke then. "Oh,

with

us,

and

I'd

wake

loud you couldn't sleep

sis,

if

you wanted

Zeke looked badly used. "Guess I'm too

He paced

to."

He had had

only five hours of sleep.

Can't think. Doesn't

tired.

by now, and curled up and he'd purr so

he'd be in

up, and rub his ears,

make

sense."

He had only dallied with had prepared. He leaned against

about the kitchen.

bacon and eggs Ingrid

refrigerator, so thin of metal it

gave a

little,

and

Parti's

the the

eyes went

where D.C. would have sat watching them. Every saw him in the old familiar places. "How'd he talk?" Zeke asked. "The way I imagine a kidnapper would. Straight off. Threat-

to the top

turn she made, she

He didn't ramble. He made sense in a braggadocio sort ." He talked loud, seemed excited, but not the way

ening.

way.

.

"... a psycho would?" "Kind of, maybe in his about them to say

"Any "So

threats.

But

I

don't

of

.

know enough

." .

.

noises in the background? People? Music?"

still

I

could hear him breathing.

.

.

.

It's

seven-thirty,

Inky."

"You don't expect

me

Patti studied her.

"Of course

tell

him. But I want

to go to school?"

him

not, hon.

Go wake up Mike and

to leave us alone until

Zeke and

work

I

this out."

Ingrid

nodded and

tried laughing. "I

and Patti went into Zeke's arms. She don't want Mike's ideas. He's seen too many left,

karate movies."

Zeke continued

to

around people. Don't

hold her.

"I'll

let yourself

powder room. Go

take you to

work but

stay

get caught alone—not even in

bank sometime today. Act as if you're trying to raise the money. Can you get someone in to stay with Inky and Mike?" the

to your

She broke away, turning her back so he wouldn't see the "Mrs. Macdougall. Inky could go over there. Should I

tell

tears.

her?"

"Will she talk?"

39

'

if we ask her not to. You couldn't pry it out of her. But may shoot the postman— or someone/' She laughed nervously. He walked about, the kitchen a cage. "I don't get it. No cat's

"Not she

worth"—he saw the sudden

turn, the angry flash in her

mean, no one's going to pay three hundred thousand

"I

for a

.

.

"If I

."

He

had

eyes— dollars

trailed off.

she said quietly but firmly, "and

it,"

seeing D.C. again

.

."

.

She was about

it

meant never

to cry.

"Of course. But forget the cat— "Forget him?" The temperature was climbing.

mean maybe he's

"I didn't

angle,

other Randalls.

forget

him—but

looking at

it

from another

up with someone else. Some No criminal worth his salt would go around got you mixed

asking preposterous sums from people

who

can't deliver.

And

kidnapping a cat— this guy's got to be nuts." "You'll get right

He

on

it?

The FBI

.

.

."

took a deep breath. "Well, Patti, you see

." .

.

Her voice hardened. "Why not?" 'The Bureau I

"I don't

want the

I'll

"I

the police."

want you— and the FBI. He was an

He risked his

life!"

know and—"

"You could least

call

police. I

informant for the FBI. "I

have any authority over kidnapping—

just doesn't

mean, catnapping.

Washington, ask them. That's the very

talk to

you could do." will— I will."

I can,

Patti—in

He

said

it

too readily.

"And

I'll

do everything

my spare time."

"In your spare time!" "I've got seventeen cases to work."

"More important?" "No, no, but—well, we've got to get the police in. They won't do much about the cat. Now don't get all shook up. I can't help it. It's the way the world's made. Kidnapping a cat isn't much of a crime—but extortion, if that's what it is, and threatening you .* and Inky .

40

.

"That's

it!"

Surely the

she said excitedly.

FBI

"Please, Patti,

"He threatened

to strangle us.

going to-"

isn't

IVe told you before, the FBI investigates only

the violation of certain statutes specifically assigned to

it

by

Congress."

"And

strangling girls isn't one of them."

"Not unless

it's

a part of a violation that

such as anti-racketeering, unlawful or

some other—" "You sound just

flight to

we do

investigate,

avoid prosecution,

like a lawyer."

"I am a lawyer." He was puzzled. She knew he was one. "I know—but you don't have to sound like one." She added

"We'll have to postpone the wedding."

testily,

"But we've got people coming from

from Nevada,

all

my best man from Buffalo

"You don't think

I'd get

married

if

over.

My

Aunt Harriet

." .

.

something had

hap-

just

pened to D.C.— and go off on a honeymoon. What kind of a honeymoon would that be? You don't seem to grasp the seriousness of this. Sometimes I just don't understand you, Zeke Kelso.

gone— maybe

D.C.'s

do you hear me?

he's already dead. Zeke,

Say something." "I'm so stunned

I

know what

don't

and apprehend the kidnapper. "You'll put a tap

to say. We'll get

him back—

Now don't you worry."

on our phone, won't you, so when he

calls

back-" "I'd

have

to get the Attorney General's consent,

a federal violation, which "Well, get

even

if it

was

it isn't."

it."

"But, Patti-" "I

know.

A

cat. Tell

him

it's

a

little

boy. D.C. Randall.

Aged

seven."

He groaned.

"Please, Patti, try to understand.

I can. I love you,

you know

.

.

.

but he's one of

us,

do everything

that."

She crumpled as he took her in have

I'll

same

as

his arms.

"Sorry—I shouldn't

Inky or Mike or father." 41

"I

know.

I

had a dog when

I

was a kid ...

you about

I told

him."

Mike elected to go to school, and afterward, look business. He had two poodles to pick up for clipping.

after his

"We'll need every cent we can get," he said. "That three hundred thousand is just the asking price. We can beat him down. I've got four hundred in the bank and I'll give it all to get old D.C. back. Let calls.

Sometimes

it

me

talk

with

when he

takes a businessman."

"Too bad we haven't got one," Ingrid

He

this guy, Patti,

said.

ignored her. "I read once where they

made up

a

dummy

package of money out of newspapers and put twenties and fifties

on

top. I could

put

my four hundred—"

Patti broke in excitedly. "Mike!

and

it

was the

first

What an

idea!"

She smiled,

time since D.C. had disappeared out of their

lives.

9

Newton, the supervisor on the criminal desk, looked up from a report he was reading and nodded to Zeke to come in. Newton liked this tall, thin Nevadan who worked his Robert

Z.

cases with the quiet persistence of a

cowpuncher riding

trail

after a rustler.

"Let's see,"

Newton

said,

glancing at a calendar. His voice was

He controlled it with effort, the same as he He had been in the Bureau fifteen years, had a record, supervised a squad of seventy men with an

as big as the

man.

did his bulk. perfect

unerring instinct for reaching the right decision, and yet was

was named. was rumored, did not consider him sufficiently

passed over whenever a

Washington,

it

new

special-agent-in-charge

aggressive. "Let's see,"

Newton

an apartment yet?" 42

repeated, "only three weeks.

You two got

Zeke nodded and

up

a

set himself

"Do you remember

little.

He's in the

files

as X-14.

down

carefully. His knees stuck

that cat

we had

as

an informant?

Helped us solve a couple of

Newton's eyes narrowed. "So what?"

He

cases/'

could smell trouble.

"He's missing," Zeke continued, wanting to sound matter of fact,

which was

when reporting on a cat. an FBI agent to find himself

difficult

lous position for

grabbed him and

holding him for

is

was a ridicuin. "Some guy three hundred thousand It

dollars ransom."

Newton

Not an eyelash blinked. "You're putting

froze.

me

on."

"She took the

call at

3:07 this morning," Zeke continued.

"Who's she?" "Miss Randall.

Patti.

The

girl

I'm going to marry— I think."

"You think?" "We've postponed the wedding— she postponed it— until the cat back.

You

It's

see, I've got to

".

live

.

.

"It's sort

.

.

we

get

him from a pup.

." .

with the

.

cat. Yes,

of a package deal.

"So you've told

me

hard to explain. She raised

you

told me."

No cat, no

me—but this

girl,

no wedding."

cock-'n'-bull story

you were giving

.

"Yeah. Well, I thought since he was once an

know

thought the Bureau might like to

he's

FBI

informant, I

been kidnapped,

and—"

me you want

"Are you sitting there and telling

the Bureau to

look for a scraggly cat some crackpot stole?" stole. Kidnapped. I mean, catnapped. The suspect did ransom— and the cat did help us solve two cases." "Why'd I get out of bed this morning?"

"Not ask for

"I guess it

does sound a

little

odd."

"Weird. You got the wrong word. a kidnapping

police case. Call

it

kidnap a

a petty theft case.

dollars.

cat. It's

The

if

It's

weird.

you want

And

You know to but

you

it's

a

can't

three hundred thousand

guy's got a screw loose."

43

"Try "I

telling

know,

I

my

fiancee

know.

My

A dumb, squawking bird. "I

went by the police

it's

petty theft/'

wife, she's nuts over a parrot we've got.

She thinks

he's Kissinger."

station."

'

"Good."

"Some sergeant I

pushed a

little

I'd

never met wanted to lock

me

up. I guess

too hard."

Newton took a deep locked up for a sanity

breath. "That's

all I

need.

One

agent

Try running that through the phone

test.

to Washington." "It's

showed him

okay. I

my

identification.

my

They'll

see

fiancee can keep the

if

man

they can trace the

call tonight, if

on the

enough. I've got a theory that somebody's

line long

trying to scare her to death,

and when she breaks,

he'll

drag

her into some other kind of crime."

Newton doodled with a

pencil.

"How much

are the Randalls

worth?"

"Not much." Zeke smiled.

"I didn't

run a credit check on

her."

"No, no,

I

wasn't suggesting—"

Zeke continued,

"I

thought since X-14 had been an informant,

you might ask Washington

." .

.

"For your information, Kelso," Newton said slowly, "I'd have to put the hall to

phone

in that corner of the

room and stand out

in the

keep from going deaf."

my fiancee—well, I had to give it the old pitch." He up and stretched and seemed twice as tall. "She suggested we make up a dummy package with a few authentic bills on "I told

got

top."

"That

we make

it

up?" Newton rose too.

He had had

enough,

was what love would do no we. You keep strictly out of this, Zeke. Do you know what the Bureau would do if they caught you working a case on the too much. Zeke

to a

was a nice guy but

man. Distort

side?"

"Quarter me."

44

this

his vision completely, utterly. "There's

"Worse than

that."

few days off." Newton stared in disbelief. "Get married, and you'll get a few days off, for your honeymoon." "But-" "Now get out of here and let me do some work— and let's pray the guy who snatched the cat renders a service to mankind by removing him from the scene. This scene, anyway. I don't ever want to see him or smell him again." Zeke shook his head. "No cat, no girl, no wedding, no honeyZeke edged toward the door.

"I'd like to take a

moon."

Newton sagged back down clock.

Only

ten. It

was going

into the chair,

to

and glanced

at the

be one of those days.

10

Late in the afternoon,

when

school

had broken, the

merry-go-round began turning. The freshly painted horses rode to the music of "The Beer Barrel Polka," its gay melody spoiled by the wheezing of the old calliope. A few parents may have groaned but the kids did not mind. They had come for the eternal excitement of gaudy theatrical display plus a ride high

in the saddle.

The ocean was a backdrop, and mornings when the horses stood moored, the incessant, nervous beat of the waves broadcast as loudly as did the

music that would follow. The carrousel

was the

an amusement park that had flourished

last survivor of

in the pre-bikini era.

Only a few

feet

away was a

three-story

apartment house built in a curve around one side of the

No one knew why

it

ride.

had been constructed so close or why up that interesting bit of trivia.

it

curved. History had swallowed

In a third-floor apartment overlooking the carrousel, Auntie stood looking down. She was a thin, bony

who was beginning

to wither.

woman

Her nose went

in her fifties

to a point

and her 45

Her voice was too

eyes were sunken sparks that darted about.

high pitched, and had a whining overtone.

A

black cat crouched on top of the highboy behind her. She

turned suddenly, and looked up at him, to assure herself he was there.

She

stared, thinking, thinking

.

.

D.C. washed and re washed a paw.

.

He

pretended he had no

idea she was about. Ignore them, that was the best policy. Don't

them know you're trembling from head to paw. heard Ingrid calling him, and thought she was outside the back door. But she was not, and this jerk had seized him and about squeezed his innards out. And he hurt. Every bone. Had Ingrid called from the living room? No, his hearing was

let

He had

too acute to mistake the direction of a sound, even a wisp of a

sound.

It

could pick up a grasshopper ten feet away, and take

him unerringly to the insect. In his kitten days, before he became a gourmet, he had eaten a few but he never included them now on his menu. The aftertaste was horrible. When the old scarecrow turned to look out the window again, he quit washing and took cognizance of his whereabouts. The window. Now if there was a ledge outside The door. The next time someone was slow about closing it, he could drop to the sofa, and spring through the door. He was starving and homesick. If he ever got out alive, he wasn't going to ignore his people the way he had at times. Even if he was stalking a lizard, he would come when they called. .

Auntie heard Bogie approaching.

He was

.

.

noisy, scraping his

Coming through the door, he hesitated on seeShe eyed him coldly. "Quick, shut the door," she

feet, whistling.

ing her.

shouted. "The cat!"

Bogie closed

it

with a scant second to spare. "Whatcha

him out for?" "Where ya been?" "I phoned you." "Four hours ago. Been 46

carousin' around, ain't

you? Scared

let

me

you up.

half to death. Figured the cops picked

Lemme

smell

your breath."

He brushed by her. "Knock it off,

will you?"

"Don't you dare talk to your old Auntie that way!"

He

He

"Why

swatted at D.C.

"Had to. He was

didja let

him

a-yellm and a-screamin

outta the carrier?" .

No pets,

they said."

shrugged, went into the kitchen, got a can of beer, and

returned. "Nothin in the papers. I read 'em of pills from his jacket pocket

He

all."

took a bottle

and swallowed two.

"Whatcha talon?" "I got

a belly ache."

booze you drinkin\"

"All that

He

picked up darts from an end table and, taking careful

aim, threw

She

them

said,

at a

board across the room.

"General Motors dropped

shoulda listened to me.

He

I

They

wrote 'em."

"Come off it, Auntie. 'em how to run it."

laughed.

and you told Her head went high.

points today.

six

"I

A

billion dollar

knowed, didn't I?

I

company

knowed what they

who runs it got the lead out." "Damn that music. Can't they play something else down there?" He opened a window and yelled down, "Hey, you bastards down there. Get another record." should do. 'Bout time that guy

He threw

a dart wildly.

D.C. landed softly On the sofa behind him, and, crouching low, sneaked along toward the window. Auntie shouted, and

Bogie swung about.

He slammed

window

the

shut. "I told you,"

him out of the him out." "The manager would've been up here next with him screamin

he

said,

carrier

and

breathing hard, "I told you

if

you

let

he was going to get away. But you had to

let

yellin'."

"We

got to

dump

him."

He

started for

D.C, who stood

his

him, ya hear?"

He

ground, growling.

Auntie shouted, "You keep your hands

off

shrugged, walked away, and she quieted. "Worth three hundred grand, boy, and don't forget

it."

He turned on her. "They're

goin' to

pay up dead or

alive."

47

?"

you got no principles you get with principles

"Ain't "All

She sniveled.

He

"I

is

brought you up

a smack in the face." right/'

grinned. "I'm cutting myself in for sixty per cent since I'm

taking the

risk. All

you do

is sit

here and whine."

She stared in anger but her voice was low. "You wouldn't cheat your poor, old Auntie

who

took you in

when you had nobody."

"Poor old Auntie!" "I

took you in!" she shouted. "Fed you, put clothes on your

back."

meowed

D.C.

loudly and headed for the kitchen. Bogie threw

a dart that barely missed him.

Before he could pick up another, Auntie whacked his hand.

"Try that again, boy, and "Okay, Auntie, okay."

I'll

put ya

No

flat

on your

keister."

point in getting the old battle-ax

riled up.

She foot.

sat in her usual chair, took off a shoe,

and rubbed her

"Gotta see a corn doc."

"Not

till

we

get the dough."

"Course not." She reached for D.C,

who backed away,

spit-

ting.

"He

loves you," Bogie said.

"You love him, Auntie?"

"They gonna crack soon?" "Couple, three days. Takes time.

With

his hands,

You shoulda seen

he drew a picture in the

sure like to get a feel

air of

the model."

her figure. "I'd

." .

.

"Don't talk dirty! I'm not puttin up with

it.

About a

nice-

lookin' girl."

In the kitchen he had scotch-taped to the refrigerator door a newspaper picture of Patti, Ingrid and D.C, taken at the time

D.C had "worked" the bank robbery case for the FBI. He threw a dart within inches of Auntie. "Cut that she said. "I got this

weak heart." The doc said

"Best heart in town.

out, boy,"

so."

"Look," she said firmly, "I'm runnin' this show, and like I told you,

48

no runnin' 'round with women

till

we

get the money.

Ya hear me? though

don't care

what you do when we wrap

this

up—

get, more I respect them." and got another dart aimed in his

em. Older they

"I respect

D.C.

I

brought you up to respect womanhood."

I

meowed

again,

direc-

tion.

"Boy!" she yelled.

"Oh, come I

off

it,

Auntie. I can put one through

him anytime

when you're not looking, seeing as how you're him down on the merry-go-round, and down there'll say it's raining cats. Dead cats."

want. But

I'll

do

it

so sensitive— and toss

some kid

He

crunched the beer can into the shape of an apple core.

11

That day the "A" customers, the most expensive

clothes,

were admitted

women who bought

"B"

list

Shop

to the Exclusive

Beverly Hills for an advance preview of a Christmas

would follow the next day, and the general

the

sale.

in

The

public, the

third.

At 11:30,

Patti left the store

with two other

the Sportsmen's Lodge, where they

girls to

would model

drive to

clothes at a

women's luncheon. She headed west, down Wilshire Boulevard toward the San Diego Freeway. Before she entered the freeway, she

knew

All

she was being followed.

morning she had struggled

to

put the night out of mind.

had surfaced. Once was when she called Ingrid at the Macdougall home. Inky had struggled to sound bright but was near tears. "I can't stand it, not knowing whether he's dead, Twice, though,

it

what's happening. Oh,

sis

." .

.

In the next breath, she added, "Mike didn't go to school, either. He's

going

all

through the neighborhood asking

if

anyone

saw D.C. And Bob Hersh let him tack up a lost notice in the Westward Ho." The morning had the appearance of any other. A catastrophe had struck in Patti's life and yet she went about her work the 49

And

same.

about her the usual inane chatter. "I'm not getting

all

paid enough for

with him

last

this

kind of action. ...

Sunday.

.

.

.

I

swear

I

spent a

I've got a ninety-year-old

week

grandmother

out there and by the time the news goes through three hearing aids,

you wouldn't believe

superfluous than a

How

it.

...

I tell

man waiting while his

could the world be so normal

you nothing looks more wife buys a bra/'

when

for her

it

was

so

abnormal? Once she went outside to escape for a few minutes and was engulfed by a flow of pedestrians, each carrying his own plastic-encased box of happiness or suffering, not seeing her. She stood by the curb and felt the hot breath of the passing cars.

A little before was

was a shame a

showing

who

fussbudget

old

off tailored

should

salesgirl

beamed women

He had

eleven, Zeke called.

in the midst of

never wear tailored

could not come right out and

that they

had a hippo-behind look

would be performing a public

service.

She said "Hi" into the phone. she was, and she

to hold the line.

warmed

He

She

pants to a big-bottomed pants. tell

It

broad-

in pants. It

Like beautifying America.

only wanted to

at his thoughtfulness.

He

know how reported he

had discussed "the matter" with Supervisor Newton and

it

was

"under consideration."

A

me a line, Zeke. He risked his life,

rocket fired in her cranium. "Don't give

They're not going to do anything, are they?

worked two

cases for them, saved

some people— and they

don't

care whether he lives or dies, because he's just a cat. Well, I tell

you, Zeke,

"It's

if

the

FBI ever wants him again—"

not a violation of a federal statute."

"I'm not interested in legal technicalities."

"But Patti-"

"Efrem Zimbalist caught a kidnapper last week." He was about to remind her again that the kidnapping statutes covered people, not cats. Barely in time he caught himself.

To her way

bered once telling love

them en masse.

was people. He rememyou shouldn't people, some of them are killers,

of thinking a cat

Patti,

"Okay,

If they're

if

they're people

desperadoes, lazy, no-good bums. Say, wouldn't

50

it

be revealing

if for one day they became humans and we found out just what the dear little creatures are really like? Thieves, savages,

rapists."

That had nearly terminated

Now

She was instantly

mean

their romance.

he said slowly, hurt, "T did contrite. "I

my

best."

know you

did, Zeke. I didn't

you. I get so mad."

Deliberately she slowed

down

as she gained the freeway.

The

would shoot That Her rear-view mirror was dusty. She

car behind her did, too, although ordinarily a driver to her left

and take another

lane.

A man

was

at the wheel.

was all she could make out. had only a blurred impression.

She snailed along on the slow lane upwards to the crest of the Santa

Monica Mountains. The San Fernando Valley lay

flat

and smog-shrouded. She took the Ventura Freeway

The

tail

did the same. Her eye caught the

sign alongside the

little

emergency parking. Placed

blue call-box

at half-mile in-

tervals in the metropolitan area, the small telephones

directly with the California

Highway

Patrol.

exit.

connected

She debated. Would

she dare get out of the car to call for help? She decided not.

She swung the car quickly into a tight space on the far lane.

Her pursuer

couldn't find a spot behind her.

He

left

stayed on

the adjoining course.

Now she

could see him partially through the side window. She

slowed until she was abreast of him, and discovered the driver

was Zeke. In the

him dearly for running a surveillance on her, wanting to protect her. Then she was furious. He should have told her. He had scared the wits out of her. Wait until 1 get him alone. first

surprise, she loved

At the Sportsmen's Lodge, she zipped herself

into

an

outfit

in, and was waiting when told a man Her stomach went into a figure-eight knot. His name was Amos Hall and he looked seven feet tall. He was narrow as a telephone pole and his girth was cinched as tightly

she couldn't breathe

wanted

to see her.

51

as a saddled bronc's.

On

Zeke's advice she

He was from the Van Nuys police division. had phoned the police before leaving home

and given them her whereabouts.

They stepped into a corridor to talk. He never indicated he found the kidnapping of a cat or the $300,000 ransom demand unbelievable. He was accustomed to hearing the fantastic. he said slowly. "May not be much there but you cant take a chance. Does this cat"—he hesitated,

"A

criminal's like a cancer/'

uncertain

how

to phrase it—"have

any identifying marks?

—well, some officers might consider that

I

mean

black cats look the

all

same/'

"But they

don't,

"Of course

He was really

any more than

Chinese—"

not."

totally unlike

her conception of a police

officer.

He

appeared concerned.

"White whiskers," she

said.

ers are prematurely white. I've

all

"He

isn't really old,

but his whisk-

Probably due to a vitamin deficiency.

intended to take him to the vet."

"Vitamins, or

it

could run in the family.

Any

snapshots? Good,

sharp ones?"

She nodded. Ingrid would get him

He night this if

several.

continued, "We'll be listening in on your phone line toif

you'll give permission.

guy may have

it

We won't come by the house

staked out.

You never know what

they think they're being double-crossed. That

come by

unless

you need

us.

is,

since

they'll

we

do

won't

Okay?"

That evening, exhausted, she left the shop an hour early, and once again was on the freeway. Her mind's automatic pilot took over, instructing her to slow down, speed up, change lanes. She should

call

her father.

He would want

to

know, and they needed

worked She saw D.C. coming home after a day outside and collapsing like a child, Ingrid on the floor beside him, her head pressed Mike roughing him up close to his purr-er, talking to him and saying, "If people were as smart as cats, they'd adopt somehis counsel. If nothing

out tonight

.

52

.

.

.

.

.

And the time her mother said, "That body and do nothing." His dirty feet all over my clean black-handed. him caught cat! I .

.

.

laundry."

When

be sleeping on

it,

or to

mop

broom closet, he would make a bed, he would be curled up in a

she went to get the

in the

on the pillow—and he didn't like it one whit if he were Cat wuzzies were everywhere no matter how disturbed. tight ball

.

.

.

Not fuzzy wuzzies but cat wuzzies. He purred loudly when she curried him, turned over from side to side, but didn't permit her to touch his stomach. That was inoften she vacuumed.

.

.

.

vasion of privacy. If

they never saw D.C. alive again, Ingrid would be hurt the

came home from school that she didn't look for him, and have a long talk. "You remember your Uncle Willie, don't you?" she had whispered only a few nights ago, not knowing Patti was within earshot. William, their big orange cat, had died shortly before Hallowe'en three years ago. They never mentioned his death, yet each was conscious of the date. Ingrid had continued, "Remember when you were a kitten, how you'd follow Uncle Willie around the yard, always two or three feet back of him, and watch everything he did, and copy what he was doing? Uncle Willie didn't like it because he wanted some privacy. And when Willie would get into a fight, you'd back way off but stay and watch. Your eyes would get big and bigger with all the noise. The language was foul and you'd get scared and back away a little more but always stay where you most. She never

could see the battle. Sometimes you'd hide behind a shrub or bush.

"Uncle Willie would always put the invader to rout and

when

he returned you would walk alongside of him, terribly proud that he was your uncle. Uncle Willie wouldn't pay any attention

you because

would

up and he would be But you didn't mind because Uncle Willie was your hero. He was the greatest fighter who ever lived. Even when he was sick that time and had a cast on his leg—remember?— and caught an intruder and

to

growling a

his tail

little,

still

still

be

fluffed

telling that other cat off.

53

and all. It didn't matter that he could came tearing out, sure he would be killed in his condition, with that cast and all, but nothing could hurt Uncle Willie. As long as he could drag, he'd take on the tore right into him, cast

scarcely walk.

We

all

neighborhood/'

Patti

unlocked the front door, and stepped quickly

second she did she

window

felt

inside.

Someone had

the strong draft.

The

left

a

or the back door open.

She took a couple of hurried,

little

steps,

calling,

"Ingrid!

Mike!"

Her alarm system warned her to stop. Still calling, she backed toward the front door, which she had left open. Whirling about in panic, she collided with Greg, who looked as if he had been caught in a burglary. "Don't you ever knock?" she asked angrily.

"The door was open," he answered hotly. "What do you want?" If he had come over

to complain about

D.C "There was a shoot-out over at the Macdougalls. you'd want to

know but if you

don't

.

.

."

He

I

thought

turned to go.

"A shoot-out?"

He

know what happened but there was a and an ambulance came, and they hauled old Mrs. Macdougall out. I hurried over but Wilbur had lost his hearing aid, and nobody knows what happened." She brushed by him. "Ingrid," she said. "She was over there. Ingrid." She turned back. "Did you see Ingrid?" turned back. "I don't

lot of shooting,

He

shook his head.

12

An hour

had limped down the tree-shaded He affected the limp by wearing He had a glued-on mustache and sported

before, Bogie

street toward the Randall home.

only one elevator shoe.

54

big sun glasses.

He was

in

denims and carried the kind of pad

used by meter readers. Slowly he crossed the

street,

casing the Randall house, which

he had kept under surveillance for some time from away.

He was

confident no one

was home. Yet he took the pre-

caution of ringing the front doorbell.

then

made

Working

his

way around to the

his car a block

He

waited several minutes,

service-porch door.

he bent down, and, reaching a hand through

swiftly,

the cat entrance, and up, succeeded in turning the knob.

He

hurried to Ingrid's room, where he tossed a tape on her bed, and,

ransacking a chest, took a brassiere from the second drawer

down. Auntie had wanted him to sneak the tape into the mailbox.

But by leaving

it

on the bed, he was

letting the girls

know

he could get to them any time he wished. By taking the bra, he would plant the thought that he might be a sex fiend. He was clever. He had to admit it, he just was. Auntie never would have thought of that touch. little

to this caper. It

Come

to think of

it,

bugged him that she

she had contributed

insisted

on a

split.

He

was generous in offering her 40 per cent. That was 40 per cent more than she deserved, and if she continued steaming him, he would boot her out. He had had about enough of her whining

He had paid was twelve. his way. He had been out snatching purses when he He stepped out of Ingrid's window dead into a shotgun that was shaking like a twig in a high wind. Holding the weapon was a woman shaped like a tree trunk. He guessed it was a woman by the bandanna wrapped tightly around her head. She had the eyes of a dead fish and a big nose that twitched. and reminding him she had taken him

in.

So what?

"Put'em up!" she said in a frog voice. His

first

reaction

But in view of the cided to play

it

was

St.

to think: What's she trying to pull off?

Vitus dance the shotgun was doing, he de-

cool.

"What's bothering you, ma'am?" he asked quietly.

"Whatcha doing here?"

He

did not like the setup.

The dame was

so shaky her voice

55

ran up and

down

the scale.

Her

trigger finger kept working,

he was dead center in front of the

and

barrel.

"I'm the meter man," he said slowly, calculating his chance of

grabbing the shotgun—and

living.

He

decided the odds favored

the shotgun. 'Water and Power. Shouldn't you put the gun

down? Somebody might "You

didn't read

get hurt."

my meter."

"No, ma'am. Special

call.

Energy

Please,

in there."

me—"

"In the car. If you'll let "We'll phone from

you know.

crisis,

ma'am—" "Whatcha doing in the bedroom? No meter "Had to check out the wiring." "You got something to show—"

my

house.

You

first.

Through the hedge

there."

"Can

I

put

my hands down?"

"Not unless you want a fanny

He

full of

buckshot."

resigned himself, went through the hedge at the point she

and entered a dark kitchen. She had the drapes tightly drawn. It was downright spooky. She intended to phone the police, not the Water and Power. He knew that. He was thinking all the time. When his chance came, he would be ready. "You stand over there— by the refrigerator," she said. She motioned with the shotgun, which struck the drainboard— and indicated,

He wet his pants. "My ma's kettle," she

fired.

said, groaning.

A

spewing out water from a hole low in one me. Can't get 'em like that no more." "No, ma'am," he answered politely. Children and old

She backed

women

brass tea kettle

side.

"My ma

He might win

was

left it to

her over.

loved him.

to a wall phone, then her skitterish eyes pivoted

over the area about him. "The sink.

had no intention

Move

over to the sink." She

of plugging the refrigerator

if

she had to plug

him.

She took the receiver down, and half-turned to dial. The left him, he leaped for the shotgun. She dropped

second her eyes 56

the phone and

hung

on.

He yanked and

twisted and heaved but

she had a death grip on the butt. She grunted and groaned

and he swore.

The

inevitable happened.

Her

trigger finger instinctively tight-

ened, and a blast of shots tore into the ceiling.

A

light fixture

spewed over them. Both loosened their hold on the weapon but he recovered first and tore it away from her. Backing up, he said, "I'm killing you if you move." She stood stunned. He continued, "Stay where you are. Don't move— or I'll blow your head off." He took a step toward her. He would tie her up and get out. Unexpectedly, she broke for a stairway a few feet beyond the kitchen door. He could have killed her then and there but held his fire. Commit murder, and have the police swarming all over the city? No, sir, not when he could be picking up an easy shattered and glass

$300,000.

Smart thinking.

He allow

followed her on the run.

He would

him time

neighborhood before she notified

to escape the

have to rope her up, to

the police. Already someone might have heard the shots and

given the alarm.

She stopped on a landing halfway up the

stairs,

and reaching

behind an enormous rubber plant, snatched up a .38 that exploded as she swung

it

in his direction.

He

fell flat

one side of the stairway, and in the process

to

By

pressing himself against the wall, he

and

slithered

lost the shotgun.

was out

of range.

A

couple of shots pinged close-by.

She held the weapon with both hands. She had her feet braced a couple of feet apart. She waited for his head to pop up, which it

did,

and she

let

him have a couple more

blasts.

Her hands

shook so much that the second shot put a neat hole through a window on the opposite side of the hallway. She heard Wilbur coming down the stairs behind her. If he did not have his hearing aid turned on high, he could sleep through

an atom

bomb

blast without turning over.

57

"Whatcha

doin',

you

old bat?"

silly

"Get the police," she shouted back at him. "Yell out the win-

dow and get somebody to call the police." "We don't need any," Wilbur said. "Need any what?" she screamed. What was

the old fool talk-

ing about? She triggered another shot, and clipped the newel post.

"Whatever

it

He grabbed

was you wanted," Wilbur shouted. her arms. "Whatcha shootin' at? Nothin'

down

there. You're wreckin' the house."

She jabbed him with an elbow that crumpled him up. "There's a killer

down

Wilbur

there.

rose, a

Get the

police.

The

police!"

punch-drunk prizefighter who had been down

for the count of ten. "You've

been

in

my whiskey," he roared.

She shoved him aside with one well-aimed throw of a and,

holding the

still

.38,

backed up a few

steps,

hip,

reached out with

hand, knocked a picture off the wall, and plucked a .45 had been concealed on a hook behind great uncle Horace. Now she had a gun in each hand— and, when the kidnapper poked his head up for a quick glimpse, fired both barrels. "Get the pineapple," she shouted at Wilbur. "Under the mattress." Wilbur was mad. He had been elbowed and hipped, and he was not about to take it from the old bat. "Whatcha want a

her

left

that

mattress for?"

"The pineapple! The pineapple!" Bogie shook his head in

disbelief.

Pineapple? She had a hand

grenade up there, the old witch. She wouldn't use

up her home psychos

He years,

.

.

split

to

kill

it.

Naw. Blow

him? Or would she? Might.

These

.

the scene. Setting the fastest track record posted in

he sprinted for the door. Going out under a

he caught one

last glimpse.

The

hail of gunfire,

old hellcat was standing spread-

legged, triggering both guns. Single-handedly she could have

wiped out a whole armored column. 58

When down

before her, and Wilbur, yelling,

When

a neighbor rushed in a

sitting in

running

Her body klunked The weapons rattled down

the door slammed, she passed out.

the steps, taking one at a time.

came tumbling

moment

later,

after her.

she found Wilbur

the acrid smoke of battle cradling his wife, tears

down

his cheeks.

13 Trailed the kitchen,

by Greg,

Amos

Patti ran to the

Hall, with his

Macdougall home. In

hands in

his pockets, stood

On the stairway there was another officer, on his hands and knees. "My sister. Where's my sister?" she screamed. Amos looked up in mild surprise. "Was she over here?" He gazing about.

nodded in Greg's direction. "Friend of yours?" Greg spoke up. "Greg Baiter, attorney. I live across the street." "I see. Mind stepping out a moment? IVe something to discuss with Miss Randall."

Greg smarted. "Oh, all right." He added most a member of the family."

Amos

petulantly,

Tm

al-

Wilbur Macdougall. She was conscious on reaching the Encino Emergency Hospital. referred to a small notebook. "Mrs.

Said she caught a

man

rifling

your house. Marched him over

here at the end of a shotgun—to phone us—but he got the gun.

She never mentioned your

sister."

Patti looked wildly about. "She's got to

be here. She was

spending the day over here." In hysteria, she ran up the

stairs calling.

Amos

followed.

He

waited in the upstairs hall while she looked in each room. "She didn't

mention anyone being involved except her husband," he

"No one." They came back down the stairs. "The woman caught him coming out of a bedroom over at your place," he continued. "I checked it out and found a chest drawer had been ransacked but said gently.

I didn't

touch

it,

waiting for you."

59

Out on the street a rattle and cough

car's

brakes squealed, and there was a

death

that could belong only to Zacharia. She

tore out of the kitchen,

and seeing

Web

struggling to open the

door for Ingrid, screamed, "Inky! Inky!" Ingrid saw the tears, and fought to get out the door, which

suddenly gave way, coming

off its hinges.

"He's dead!" Ingrid

cried out. "D.C.'s dead!"

"No, no," Patti said. "I don't know. I'm just so glad to see you.

Where's Mike?"

"Who're you?" Amos asked Web, who stood in shock, holding the door.

Web

"You a cop?" hands and thing but

feet. "I get

I

dropped the door. Suddenly he was paranoid around a cop.

picked

done any-

get the shakes."

my

Ingrid spoke up. "He's

He

I haven't

all

me up

at the

full-time

boy

friend,

Alan Webster.

Macdougalls' after school and

we went

to Izzy's taco place."

She turned to

From

Patti.

"Mike's okay.

his living-room

side.

He was

punk

detective

He

called

me

at Izzy's."

window, Greg watched with Blitzy

at his

The idea, him an attorney, and this asking him, Greg Baiter, to step outside. Greg had

still

smarting.

a notion to report him. Officers should learn manners.

A

shoot-out— and

somehow

Patti

was involved. Why,

other-

would this stupid detective want to talk with her in confidence? Could Mrs. Macdougall have been engaged in some wise,

nefarious undertaking? Possibly but not likely. She could have

poked her nose once too often

in someone's business.

That was

highly probable.

Then

his

keen legal mind recorded and pushed forth a very

strange observation. D.C.

He had

and he could not remember a

not seen the cat in two days,

single day, holidays included,

when

hunk of fur had not made life miserable for him or Blitzy. He had nothing whatsoever to substantiate a growing conviction that the cat had figured in the shoot-out— except

that old moth-eaten

60

when there was trouble in the neighborhood somehow around that black, slithering fiend.

that usually

it

cen-

Shortly after Patti and the others entered the house, he

saw

tered

Zeke drive up.

Why

she had chosen that

FBI

guy,

who was none

would never understand.

too bright, over him, he

It

was

like

when you could have a Great Dane. He was because he knew she would regret it. He would

picking a Pekingese sorry about that

give their marriage six months, no more.

Dragging a French poodle into the living room, Mike stood bug-eyed on seeing the chaos. "Get that mutt out of here," Patti ordered.

"He's a customer," Mike said. Patti

grabbed the leash and shoved the customer out the door-

way. "You're ruining

"Shut up and

my business," Mike

sit

shouted.

down."

Flabbergasted, he backed into a chair. Zeke said, "Hi," and

Mike nodded. Zeke turned back to Amos. "He's got to be stupid, taking a chance, coming here." "Aren't most of them?"

Amos commented.

"Their egos override

their judgment."

Ingrid emerged from the back part of the house with cassette. "I

found

this

says, 'Patti, play this

two of

us,

it's

got a note stuck in

around.

It's

just

it.

It

between the

sweetheart'" Zeke took the note, typed on white

paper, glanced at Patti

on the bed and

when nobody's

a

it,

and handed

it

to

Amos.

produced Mike's recorder, and, with trembling

put the cassette

in.

fingers,

"He got one of my bras. I know ones when I put them through the

Ingrid said,

I had three clean wash yesterday and now there are only two." Patti turned on the tape. The voice was a man's, soft and catand-mouse like. It sounded as if it was coming from a cave. At first they had difficulty making out the words. They sat tense, scarcely breathing, leaning forward a little, their mouths dry.

because

61

"Dear Patti— I'm going

to call

you

Patti

because

I

know

you.

been following you around. You didn't know that, did you? You've got the kind of body I like on a chick, and when you walk,

I've

I wind up this funky business, we gotta get you know what I mean, which I figure you do, since you look like you been around. "But what I got to say now is you don't need to get worked up

man, wow! Soon's together,

if

about raising the money. We'll send you the bread for the ransom.

How

about

that, chick?

Yeah, you heard right. We'll hand over

money so you can pay the ransom. Neat, huh? You watch the mailbox tomorrow— but don't forget what I said about bringing

the

the fuzz

in.

When

love 'em, like you

icky and we'll sonally

up

I

come

don't

I

get heated up, I can split

know how,

kill

or I can love 'em to death.

the cat, and your

for you. I wouldn't

know what I'm

two ways.

want

little

sister,

to but

when

and I

can

I

You I'll

get

per-

get steamed

doing. Just don't you forget that."

14

For a time Bogie doubted

if

he would make

to the apartment. His back leg muscles strings.

There he had been minding

were

like

it

upstairs

twanging harp

his business, not bothering

It was a wonder he was not dead, the way she had pumped lead. Must have fired fifty rounds. What a mad woman. That was the trouble

anyone, and this old goblin rose right out of the ground.

today. Psychos everywhere.

Damn he had

if he didn't have the shakes bad enough, up under that whang-whang-whang. Didn't they

the music. As

to bear

ever change the record? Talking of psychos, he might go out there one day and blast the whole merry-go-round. Shoot the

horses dead, every one of them.

At the door he paused dare

tell

to take several

deep breaths.

He

didn't

Auntie about his encounter with the old hag. She would

him out with her vile tongue. She was getting worse. He stepped quickly inside, and barely in time. D.C.

lay

62

shot

toward the door as

swung

if

jet-propelled. Bogie

landed near the far

football,

brought a foot back,

forward, and met him. Screaming, D.C. went

it

sofa,

and lay

up

like a

still.

Auntie yelled, took a couple of quick steps, and kicked Bogie's right shin.

He

Her

foot landed with a pistol crack as shoe

met bone.

stood stunned, staring in disbelief, then doubled up.

oughta

"I

He

you, you old devil."

kill

felt

the leg gingerly,

it. It seemed okay. you was younger," Auntie countered, her voice trembling, "I'd take a pole and I'd beat you till you was a bloody mess." "Oh, shut your trap, I've had it. I'm shot to hell." Her eyes narrowed with apprehension. "Trouble?" "Yeah, cooped up here day and night. No women, no liquor,

then put his weight on "If

no poker, nothin' but a cat and an old

woman who

tries to

break

my leg." D.C.

mewed

in pain.

Bogie swung about. "Shut up or

I'll

throw

you out the window." "You put it in the mailbox?" "Yeah."

He

picked up the Herald-Examiner. "What'd Kodak do

today?" "Off two points

.

.

.

Something's happened.

I

can see

it

in

your

eyes."

"Leave

"What Figurin' it,

me

alone, will you?"

you came in? your old Auntie, huh? Is that

didja stand in front of the door for before

some

cock-'n -bull story for

huh?" Bogie turned on his heel and stalked into the bathroom. Open-

ing the medicine cabinet, he began popping

pills.

Auntie, leaning against the door jamb, whined, "If you'd lay off all that self.

Go see

junk that gets you high a doc

if

.

.

.

You're goin' to

kill

your-

you're sick. I've told you before—"

"You sure have. You've told up on you."

me and told me

until I

could throw

"Don't you talk to your old Auntie like that, your old Auntie

who—" "—took

me

in,

and fed me, and bought

me

clothes,

and taught 63

up a bank, and use a Tommy gun. Man, I got to Most kids never had the education I had." "Did the best I could, and you know it, boy, seein' as how I was a lone woman without the help of a man." Back in the living room she poured coffee and handed it to him black. He resented the fact her hand was steady. If he got into a brannigan with her over the split, she would remain cool and calculated beneath

me how

give

it

to hold

to you.

that whining facade.

She continued,

"I

been thinking about

that dough. I been

all

we wait one more day before we hand get worked up, so they do what they're told."

thinkin'

He

sat

on the

floor

with his dart

D.C. edged along the

sofa,

set.

it

over. Let

'em

"Anything you say."

hoping to

slip

unnoticed from the

room. Bogie threw with precision and a strong thrust. The dart pierced D.C.'s side, and he let out a low, pitiful cry, and

dropped. Auntie shrieked, but before she could move, Bogie

walked over and pulled the dart could do

He

it,

out. "Bull's-eye. Didn't think I

didya?"

took a handkerchief from his hip pocket to wipe

The

off

the

came out with the handkerchief and fell to it up and stretched it out. "She doesn't have much, does she? Not like the bazooms you usually go for." Then her mind put it together. The young Randall girl. She screamed, "You filthy, no good, little—" dart.

the

floor.

brassiere

She scooped

"I didn't

swiped

it

touch her!" he shouted back. "Honest

from her bedroom. To give her a

scare.

I

didn't.

I

Like you're

that'll

knock 'em

me you

broke into

always saying, give 'em an old one-two punch out."

She looked

at

him with

scorn.

"You

the house just to give a kid a scare?

What

if

tellin

Why, you

you'd been caught and slapped into

stupid

little

hood.

jail?"

on him a long moment, giving him the old eagle eye, which had struck terror into him when he was growing up. "If She

fixed

you're lyin' to me,

boy ...

if

you're lyin to

me

." .

.

Groaning in pain, D.C. crawled into the bedroom and managed to get

64

under an

old,

broken-down chaise that had a tattered

skirt

around

it.

He

lay perfectly

still,

listening to the uproar in the

mouth hung open and every breath tortured Where the dart had pierced, his hair was matted. He him. twisted around in pain to lick off the blood and bathe the wound. A primeval instinct told him he must. His tongue went as deep as it could. Instinct warned him, too, to keep quiet. Hearing the woman calling to him, he tensed. She was searching the apartment. After a few minutes she lifted the chaise by next room. His

the front end, exposing him.

Somehow he

and when the woman bent down, he

He knew no

more.

He

names, where never

"I've

we we let

You

will. live,

spat.

blacked out and went into convulsions.

She told Bogie, "We've got "Like hell

pulled himself together,

to get

lost

how he

him

to a vet."

your marbles? They'll want our

got hurt,

no animal die on

all

me if I

that jazz."

could help

it."

"I'm telling you, Auntie, I'm going to beat you to a pulp take

him

to a vet.

The only way

if

you

that cat's going out of here

is

dead."

She dropped into a Guess

chair.

"Guess

I

wasn't thinkin' straight.

I wasn't."

15

Over and over Zeke and Amos Hall listened to the tape. They ensconced themselves in the father's bedroom, closed the windows tightly, pulled the drapes, and played the tape on low volume.

They agreed the message was explanation for

why

utterly irrational.

They had no

the subject, as they termed the criminal,

would offer to furnish the ransom money. The tape revealed that more than one person was involved. ." ." and "we'll hand over The voice said, "We'll send you and ". we'll kill the cat." This could be an editorial "we" but .

.

subjects

.

.

.

.

engaged

in crimes of violence

seldom used the

editorial

we.

65

The

subject

had talked

duced an echo

into a

box of some kind that had pro-

This recorded voice would be

by it only, to identify with his natural voice. However, a voiceprint (called a spectogram)—which would resemble a maplike drawing—could be produced by electronic means of the "echo" voice. Then if he should be apprehended, that voiceprint could be matched up with one taken of his natural voice. effect.

difficult,

hearing

"He's thought this out carefully/' Zeke said. "The psychology of leaving the tape all

on

Ingrid's

bed—to

let

the time— and taking one of her bras

.

them know he's close-by .

.

it's

the kind of terror

that builds up the more you think about it, and he's going to give them a night to dwell on it. And the constant repetition of the threat of murdering the cat, and even them ... I don't know how long they can take it. If it's just yourself alone, it's bad enough—but with Patti, it's worry over what will happen to Inky, and with Inky, worry over Patti, and with both, the cat." "I've got a big old guy myself," Amos said.

Zeke groaned. "Don't

tell

me

cats've infiltrated the police de-

partment?"

Amos

smiled. "You got to get with

homes in America." They called in Patti,

it,

Kelso.

They run

half the

and Mike. Web was outside, sneaking around in the bushes, thinking he might surprise the criminal. Zeke informed Ingrid they had sufficient problems without Web stumbling on the suspect and getting shot. "The subject may have watched the house tonight," Zeke said. There was, Patti thought, reassurance in the way he spoke, an unexpressed certainty that all would come out well. "If he did, he

knows that a

Ingrid,

police officer has been here,

and

I

have been,

too.

and accuses you of running to the police, come right back at him and tell him it's all his fault, that we were here because he was in a gun battle at the Macdougalls, and we were

If

he

calls again,

investigating

He

it."

advised Patti to report for work and Ingrid and Mike to re-

turn to school.

Each was 66

Unmarked

police cars

to schedule his activities so

would run surveillances. that he would never be

and they were

alone,

for you, too, Mike.

the

girls.

to take every precaution.

He may be

"And that goes by threatening

diverting attention

He may plan to grab you, if he grabs Fu Hung LoF' Mike asked.

anyone."

"Didja see "It's

one of those stupid karate movies," Ingrid explained.

Til give him a chop

He

might at

that,

that'll

knock him

out."

Zeke thought. Invariably, criminals had

little

regard for small boys and old people— and both could be highly dangerous.

Zeke had one other point to make. If the subject phones again, ask what they're feeding the cat, where he's sleeping, and then

demand proof

that they have him.

Does he have a

scar or any

marking peculiar to him?" "He's got a red collar," said Mike, "and a metal tag that has his

name and

address on

it."

"Good. Tell them to put the tag in the mail or leave

it

some-

where."

The police would keep the house under surveillance, Amos They would watch through binoculars from a tall bank building on Ventura Boulevard. They could send a helicopter over occasionally, but he thought that would frighten the subject. "We want him to feel free to move. He likes to be daring and we don't want to discourage him." The police would monitor the said.

phone with As was

Parti's permission,

his custom,

subject's

and she need not report a

call.

Zeke would come by for breakfast. "Since the

been watching you,

he's got to

he doesn't care since he knows

this is

know Zeke drops by—and

not a federal crime."

Amos Hall left openly by the front door, Ingrid went out to Web, and even though it was past midnight, Mike headed

join

for the garage to clip a poodle.

Zeke dropped exhausted to the sofa and took Patti in "I

put the money

down on

the apartment this morning," he said,

brushing her long hair back. get out

and

find a stove

his arms.

and

"When

this is all over,

we've got to

refrigerator."

6?

"When

this is all over/'

she whispered. "I wonder

times we'll say that— before

She ran a hand over

it is."

and saw the weariness. He took a deep breath. "Yeah,

I

how many

know."

He

his face,

thought a moment.

"We're in the epicenter of a crime being committed, but after

my FBI work It's

I

haven't the haziest idea what kind of a crime

all

it is.

if he does put up the making that up to draw don't know, but anyway, some

not extortion like I'd thought. Not

money, which he may

not.

the agony out a

longer. I

little

Maybe

he's

time or other he's going to try to force you or Inky or Mike to do something.'' "It's

the not knowing," she said. "In

everything set forth exactly

so.

my

little

Did you know

world

that,

I

like

Zeke? Will

you mind so awfully much? I know most men don't like to have everything neat and just so." He grinned. "You telling me I got to pick up after myself? You sound like my mother. Had a letter from her yesterday. All kinds of advice. She says I've got to treat you nice." She lived in Pahrump, a spot on the Nevada map where he had grown up on a small ranch. Patti liked the name, Pahrump. "Don't tell me there is such a place," she had teased. They would go there on their honeymoon. Their honeymoon. It had been only weeks away. Now it sounded like one of those events people dream about and know will never come true. When Zeke had gone, she cleaned the kitchen and put out the breakfast cereals. No matter what the crisis, she thought, the process of life had to continue. Even death did not still the sound of the dishwasher. Her eyes went to D.C.'s water bowl, sitting near the service-porch door, and to the black spot on the white molding where his dirty neck had rubbed

it.

His catnip

out, was under the table. Every morning he swatted at it before hopping up on the refrigerator. He had few worldly possessions: a water bowl, an old mouse, a red collar, a metal tag. A cat asked so little and gave so much.

mouse, with the innards half

68

She shouldn't tins

man was

a cat, did

grieve.

He might be

in

good hands. Just because

harm

a criminal did not necessarily imply he would

He might

it?

a convicted murderer

love cats. She

remembered reading about

who had

He

five.

hated only the

human

species.

She shook her head. Hope was such a strong, seductive dea compulsion like sex.

sire,

She must get up shades or drapes at the kitchen window. It was one of those minor jobs she had intended doing for ages. Someone could be standing out there now watching her. Ingrid. She wished she would come in. Ingrid slipped quietly about the yard calling ness,

Web. The

dark-

even when her eyes adjusted, was blacker than she could

ever remember.

Heavy clouds blocked out the moon and

She had thought to locate

Web

stars.

quickly but, with each passing

minute, grew more apprehensive. She trembled at the slightest sound, and turned about constantly, fearful someone would am-

bush like

her.

The

old hoot owl she

had thought

an owl out of a childhood horror

story.

of as a friend

her hard heartbeat, the awful squash underfoot of a

being kicked,

On

new

shoes that squeaked a

was

She was conscious of snail,

a stone

little.

any other night she would have known that the protective

eyes of Mrs. bitterly

Macdougall were on

her.

She had complained

about old Mrs. Macdougall's snooping, but tonight she

wished Mrs. M. was up there watching from her second-story window. Mrs. M. was coming along fine, Zeke said. But Wilbur would be confined to the hospital for several days. He was in deep shock.

She was pussyfooting along the hedge when the

on

her.

Her scream was smothered by a

man pounced

big, strong

hand

that

closed roughly over her mouth. She fought desperately for a moment, then sensed intuitively that her attacker was Web. When he let her go, she was furious, and started for the house.

He grabbed

her hands. "You! You!" she said, unable to get the

69

words

She broke

out.

promise ring

Not

never!

loose,

for years

and

the ring soon's I can get

He

drew back, and struggled

but couldn't.

off

years.

"I'll

It's all

to get the

never forgive you. Never, over ...

I'll

give you back

it off."

laughed, then took her forcibly into his arms. "Never!" she

but not quite as vehemently as before. "Never, never!"

said,

He

continued holding her and kissed

tight,

unresponsive

lips.

But a moment later she was laughing. "I'd better have an electrocardiogram tomorrow. Are you sorry? Really, honestly, truly, hope-to-die sorry?"

"Yeah— but I'd do it again." She started away. "Good night, Mr. Webster— and me.

I'll

He

don't call

call you."

and they laughed until they were near and then walked hand-in-hand about the yard. They stopped by a rose garden back of the garage. "Here's where I'd hide," she said. The bushes were all but impenetrable. Web started to force his way in but she pulled him back. "Don't, seized her again,

tears,

please." "I

can handle him."

"I'm scared. Let's get back to the house."

She tugged but he stood watching and listening for movement.

She

said, "I

when

I

was

crawled through there in

my Sunday

dress once

little."

"You did?"

was following D.C. He kept looking back. He couldn't what I was doing. But he kept going. I imagined I was crawling through an African jungle. I saw a snail close-up and it looked enormous. I saw the world as D.C. saw it— and I've "I

figure out

never forgotten what a strange experience bushes. Anytime

we

it

couldn't find him, we'd

was.

He

loved these

come back here

call-

ing-

She wanted to call him now, as she had when a child. Call, and as in years past, there would be a rustle—she could mark where he was by the parting of the bushes— and he would emerge. He never failed to come. He was such an old dear. 70

16

The night passed Ingrid.

Only Mike

fretfully

but uneventfully for Patti and

slept soundly. "I hate you," Ingrid told

him

the next morning.

"Got to keep up

my

strength to take care of

you two," he

answered.

Mike wanted to employ a private detective with the $400 he had in the bank. Patti squashed the idea. "A detective couldn't do any more than Sergeant Hall or Zeke." At noon, Patti hurried home to check the mailbox. Nothing. And there was no call that day. "He's dragging it.

That's

it

out,"

Zeke told

her.

"Don't think about

what he wants. Haven't you got something around the

house that needs fixing or painting?"

When

he came by, Zeke reported that the fingerprints

lifted

from the shotgun were too smudged for

identification. Mrs. Machad given the police a detailed description of the subject. He was on the short side, medium weight, in his mid- twenties. He limped slightly, had a mustache, sported big sun glasses, and his voice sounded nothing like that on the tape. It had a high pitch. She had an unpainted chest she had bought years before, and that night, with Ingrid helping, she and Zeke sanded and painted it. He talked more than she had ever known him to. With one ear, though, she listened for the phone, and twice when it rang, went racing. Each time the call was from a friend. The night was the same as the last few had been: dozing, waking, listening, getting up, looking out the window, talking with Ingrid, going back to sleep, having a horrible dream, waking, her back aching, her thoughts plodding the same old

dougall, he said,

treadmill, sleeping, waking, looking for

D.C. at the foot of the

when she remembered what had happened. Another day, another hasty trip home at noon, another check

bed, the agony

7*

Something had

of the mailbox, another cruel disappointment.

happened. She would never hear from the criminal again. She

would never see D.C. She was picking up the newspaper the next morning when Mrs. Macdougall parted the hedge like a tank going through. She

came

up and

barreling

said breathlessly, "Patti, darling, I got

your sweet note in the hospital. God's see

you

opened

fire

on me. In

my own

kitchen.

thank the good Lord for sparing me.

I'll

for years, calling I said,

me

never thought

spell, I

world again. Did the police

alive in this

batty to keep

all

tell

I'd

He

you?

And to my dying day, And Wilbur jawing me

them

guns. But I told him,

Wilbur, someday—poor, poor man, he's

tal.

Couldn't take it—they'll come in handy.

me.

If

still

in the hospi-

You shoulda seen

he'd stood his ground like a man, I'da killed him. Killed

him dead." "I'm sure you would' ve," Patti told her. "We've got

thank you Inky's

much

watching our place, catching him coming out of

for,

bedroom—"

Mrs. Macdougall drew herself up. "I was only doing Christian duty. I said to Wilbur, I said

No

Never had any. Knew

guts.

to him, Wilbur, I said

"Promise me, again. In

my way ment.

to

my

.

.

got hitched. I said

.

me

if

he comes around

prayers last night, I said, 'God, please send

me

She prepared

him

another chance.' Like in the Old Testa-

the Old Testament where

wreak vengeance on worry long

.

.

when we

Patti, darling, you'll call

again, give

I like

.

it

my

poor, poor man.

God

sends 'em out to

their enemies."

to part the

hedge again. "You children needn't

as I'm next door."

Shortly after Patti returned

home

that evening,

Greg sauntered

over. She saw him coming, and thought, Oh, no,

I can't

take

him, not now.

He was

his usual blithe self, smiling, self-assured, egotistical

without even saying a word. 72

And he was

so confoundedly hand-

He had it all knew he had, and never let you forget. much as a hello, he asked, "Where's the monster?"

some, every giiTs dream man, every mothers son.

wrapped

up, and

Without so

"He's around somewhere." She hated herself for the coward

she was. She should have told him to get

lost.

Did that woman from the pet cemetery find you the other evening? About a burial plot?"

He

laughed. "I was afraid of that.

"No."

"Not a bad idea. for Blitzy.

We

should be prepared, you know.

Three hundred

dollars.

Has a

little

statue

I

on

got one it

of a

dog."

Mike was

all ears.

"Might be a good business to be

in."

Ingrid looked about to cry. "Please, Mike," Patti said.

Greg handed her a package wrapped in brown paper. "This was on top of my mailbox," he said. "For you. That new postman cant even read— or else can't see through his hair." She stared hypnotically. Her name was on the package, typed, and the address, typed. But it had not been mailed. There was no postage. "It's

for you,"

Greg

insisted,

shoving

it

closer.

and walked back to her bedroom with Ingrid and Mike at her heels. Greg called, "What's the matter with you? What's happening around here? I come over like a good neighbor, bring your mail, and you walk out on me without She took

it,

a thank you.

The

said nothing,

To

hell

with

it."

He slammed the

front door.

three said nothing as Patti got a pair of nail scissors

and

struggled to cut the tape. Mike grabbed the box and tore it apart. Dozens of legal-looking papers spilled out on the bed, identical $1,000 Mid-Northern Power bonds, due August 1, 1991, paying 5 per cent interest. Attached to each were sheets of coupons, to

be cut out and presented for payment when the interest was due. Patti rifled

through the bonds looking for a message. There

was none.

73

17

At the

Zeke took down the

numbers as memo pad and gone to the Westward Ho supermarket to use a pay phone. As he listened, his insides knotted up. He seldom had known fear but tonight he did. Not for himself but for this girl he loved. He knew from an experience honed by a thousand cases that she was being pushed slowly to a breaking point. She had amazing stamina behind the soft facade. Yet a person could tolerate only so much pain in an illness— and only so much shock and mental torture when caught up in the vortex of a criminal operation. A couple of hours later, he sat on her bed and studied the bonds. "I checked them out. They were stolen several months ago from the back room of a New York brokerage house. They're worth about three hundred thousand on today's market." Patti paced about. She had to be doing something. "I couldn't believe it when I dumped them out." "They're bearer bonds," Zeke continued. "Not registered to any Patti read

them

office,

off.

serial

She had jotted them down on a

individual."

"Same

as cash,"

Mike

said.

He read the

Zeke nodded. "There're millions of

stock pages avidly. dollars'

worth of these

stolen securities floating around. Thieves get about twenty million every year.

Banks

ing they're stolen.

Some

criminals

—to someone who puts them up

He

them as collateral, not knowrent them out for that purpose

will accept

as collateral for a loan."

recounted them. "You've become what's known as a mover,"

he said

to Patti. "This

guy may want you

to fence them.

That

is,

Maybe he can't fence them himself But with your face and background, you could peddle them easily. Or he may expect you to get a sell

them

to a go-between.

for fear of getting caught.

loan from a bank, put these up as collateral, then turn the loan

money over

to him.

Or he may have something

can go several ways on 74

this."

else in

mind.

He

"And

He

if I

don't do

it, if

I

refuse

"

.

.

reached for her hand. "Don't think

step at a time, one step

Take

like that.

it

one

." .

.

He rose to take her into his arms. Ingrid said, "Come on, Mike." "Where're we going?" Mike asked. "If you don't know why we're leaving, Michael Randall, you're stupider than I thought."

The

tension broke and Patti laughed softly.

"Young

love,"

Ingrid said, leaving. "I love that kid,"

Zeke

said.

"So I've noticed." "I'm just letting you

know if you

She shut him up with a quick

get too hard to handle—"

dressing-table mirror, fluffed her hair,

stood a

moment

looking

Once more her voice was "What'll

take

"I'll

down

then stooped before the

kiss,

at the

and repaired her

lips.

She

paper fortune on the bed.

firm.

we do

with them?"

them

as evidence."

"You'll take them! I thought the great

FBI couldn't-"

an FBI case now. Interstate transportation of stolen

"It's

securities."

"A

cat didn't matter— but a lot of paper

understand

it,

Zeke.

You can

kill

money

does. I don't

people or animals but not

money. Money's sacred."

He looked bewildered, and dead.

she continued quickly, "I

They wouldn't bother with a

cat.

know

he's

He'd be a nuisance,

wouldn't he? There's no reason to keep him alive."

Slowly and meticulously, Zeke put the bonds back in the box. "I

to

wish

be

I

could reassure you, darling, but

realistic.

You never know about

it'd

be

We've got what he's panic and do

cruel.

a kidnapper,

what kind of a man he is, whether he'll something crazy. But we'll start a search around the clock tonight

thinking,

for D.C."

"The FBI

will?"

"Sure. He's our one big investigative lead.

seen him

when he was picked

up, or since.

Someone may have

Maybe

only today.

75

We might find a footprint—I mean, got to locate him, and quick

you

to

cat.

Get

if

WeVe

a pawprint— something.

we

can, before the subject forces

do something. We'll get out a wanted bulletin on the it up in post offices and around. Have you heard from

your father?"

She shook her head. "There's no

telling

when

he'll

return from

the wilds."

wish he were here. You three ought to have someone with

"I

you

nights, but

if I

stayed, this

guy could get awfully

jittery.

We'll keep the house under surveillance, of course, and coordinate the job with the police, and we'll watch you and Mike and Inky no matter where you are." He paced about. "You'll get instructions soon. He's made his move. So he's got to work fast. Do you realize you've got about three hundred thousand dollars there you could run away with?" "To Kathmandu. I've always wanted to go to Kathmandu." He put his hand to her cheek. "What about some more paint-

ing tonight?"

Her eyes

"The kitchen woodwork?" should get overtime working this

smiled.

He nodded.

"I

Again she laughed "That's

my

At the

office,

quietly. "I love you,

overtime. Paid in

who gave him

case."

Zeke Kelso."

full."

Zeke turned the bonds over to the chief a receipt and locked

them

clerk,

in a safe. Afterward,

Zeke drafted teletypes to Washington and the

New

York Field

which co-operated with New Squad in covering Wall Street. With millions of shares changing hands daily, the brokerage houses ran far behind in recording and filing securities, which were stacked high on desks, filing cabinets, and the floors of the back rooms. While the houses employed detectives, messengers and others came and York Police Department's

Division,

First Detective

went

freely

and often

in great haste.

A

million-dollar batch of

might not be discovered missing for two or three months. Since they were insured, neither the houses nor investors

securities

suffered.

76

At 6:45 he conferred with Supervisor Newton, who was not mood. He had had to cancel a bowling date. Newton said, "I knew something like this would happen. I knew it when

in the best

I

up

got

this

morning. What've you got in mind?"

we have

"Well," said Zeke, going straight to the point, "since

no lead whatsoever on the kidnapper, except for the dubious description given us by Mrs. Macdougall, but we do have an ident on the cat—"

"An ident?" "We know what he looks

like."

"Like a black cat."

"With white whiskers.

"Wanted

I

thought we'd get up a wanted notice."

what? Murder?"

for

"Not exactly a wanted notice but something I figure, if he's it off,

or

to start

still

knowing

alive, he's

like that.

going to try to escape, and

The way

may

this cat as well as I do, he's certainly

one awful ruckus, and someone

pull

going

may hear him."

They agreed nothing much could be done until morning. Agents then would begin a discreet check of the neighborhood, working in an ever-widening radius, questioning housewives and children. They would search, too, for pawprints. The office already had D.C.'s prints from two previous cases in which he had worked as an FBI informant under the designation of X-14. Moreover, since the FBI now had primary jurisdiction, the office would take over the surveillance of the Randalls and the Randall home from the police. The police, however, would continue to co-operate.

"He answers

to a silent whistle,"

Zeke informed Newton. "We'll

work the city." heard yet," Newton

get a supply and send agents out to "That's the

men

silliest

thing I've

said.

"Grown Our

going around blowing on whistles that don't whistle.

casualties'U

be high."

"Casualties?"

"People phoning the police about a psycho in their neighborhood."

Newton

"You come up with some of the just might work."

rose to stretch.

craziest ideas, Kelso, but this

77

When

Zeke returned a

the kitchen

woodwork

little

for

a lot of muscle. I'm not used to

"Come

had been sanding

after nine, Patti

an hour, and was exhausted. "Takes it."

on. You're just getting started."

"You're a slave driver," she said, knowing he was determined

keep her mind

to

off

the kidnapping.

Whenever he caught her

he would give her a swat, and

staring into space,

say,

"Hey, I'm

not paying you to stand around."

Country music twanged loudly from the television in the living room, where Ingrid and

what they

is

called

it.

Web

were studying. Studying? That Ingrid had planned to take Web to her

bedroom, where she had an old portable television

set she dearly

loved but Patti had put her foot down. "Father wouldn't like

"He "But

I

am— and

I

speak for him."

Ingrid had resorted to tears, a favorite ploy. horrible that you'd think that about

Or

it."

isn't here."

is it

me? You

Web.

How

"It's

horrible,

could you,

sis?

don't trust me. Is that what's

thrown you

into a

grow

I die first.

People

spin? I hope I never, never get these far-out ideas

when they

old. I

get old.

hope

They

get uptight about

sex.

"Are you finished?" Patti asked. Ingrid nodded, and Patti said, "You're putting on an act, it. You know I trust you, and I Web. But I don't think we should hurt our father. He was brought up thinking two kids shouldn't get together in the bedroom for study or games, and I don't think we should make an

Inky Randall, and you know

trust

issue of

not have

it

and worry him.

all

I'll

grant you that older people

may

the answers but they might—just might— have a few,

and I'm not so sure that your generation or mine has any better batting average." "It's

not only that— but everybody watches

me

all

the time.

You

watch me, and Daddy does, like I was about to go bananas. Web was talking about it the other night." Mike broke in. "You could get into a lot of trouble if we didn't." Patti said coldly, "Don't you want to go clip a poodle?" 78

"Okay, okay." Mike took everyone's so quick to "I don't

off.

Ingrid continued. "I don't understand

"I don't get it,"

jump on

why

teen-agers."

know," Patti said slowly.

"I guess, well,

maybe

it's

because teen-agers are more interesting than other age groups. They're emerging from childhood into themselves, the world about them. But

know

was watching you.

I

I'll

watch

me

discovering

maturity,

it isn't

fair—and

I didn't

You know

after this.

I

love you."

Ingrid was not about to be mollified.

"When

I

grow up and

have children—" "You'll

be

just like dad. You'll love

them, and be scared to

death something will happen to them, and be unreasonable." "I

wish D.C. was here and

could rub his neck and hear him

She invariably changed the subject when she no longer

purr."

wanted last

I

to discuss a matter.

winter?

He

"Web

misses him, too.

Remember

studied with us almost every night."

18 Patti bling, a

awakened

that Saturday night to the house trem-

door rattling as

if

someone were shaking

it,

a

window

banging, and a branch of the big old native walnut scraping the stucco.

With a

start,

she

remembered the geraniums

ated flower pots on the concrete wall.

send the big ceramic

jars

it

was

12:52.

to avoid

awakening Ingrid, and

Zeke had been gone scarcely an hour. Clutch-

ing a robe about her, she walked noiselessly

stopped to look in on Mike, of bed.

in the decor-

the gale would

crashing to the ground.

She slipped out of bed quietly noted

Any minute

down

who was sprawled

the hall. She

half in, half out

She continued toward the back door, and with each

grew more uneasy. She resisted an impulse to turn on a She was safer in the dark, she believed. Stepping outside, she had to brace herself. The wind whipped

step

light.

79

through her robe and gown and tore at her

hair.

She hurried

through stark blackness, driven by a compulsion that was strange

She had the idiotic thought she might be gunned down by Mrs. Macdougall. Reaching the wall, she took the first jar down. Her robe billowed out behind her, and then snapped around to cover her head. Hysterically she fought it and freed to her.

herself. It

was then she heard the phone. The ring seemed an inherent more jarring discord in the strange

part of the wild night, one

cacophony. In her haste, she caught a foot in the garden hose.

She staggered but regained her balance. She prayed Ingrid would not answer. She had decided in her this man. Gasping for breath, she took the

own mind how

she would

handle

call in

the kitchen.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked. His tone was tough.

She had the decided impression he was faking

"You got me out of a sound "Anyone on the line?" ,

it.

sleep."

"No."

"You got an extension?" "Yes."

"Your boy friend on

it?

The FBI

guy, Zeke Kelso?"

She caught her breath, then hastened to cover her shock.

"He

left

an hour ago."

"You told him?" "Of course not." "You're lying, you little—"

"I'm hanging

"Don't fake laughed.

"It's

up—if you're going to talk like that." it, you damn little broad." Unexpectedly he okay, kid.

I'll

take on the

FBI anytime. Stupid

They don't worry me. But I told you if you was coming for you and your kid sister—"

outfit.

in I

"Look, mister, can

we

get

down

called the fuzz

to business?"

saw the cops going into your house." "Sure, you saw them. They were all over the neighborhood, "I

after all that shooting."

80

"What

didja

tell

them?"

"Nothing. What'd

"You re "Get

He

I

know about

it?"

lying."

Good-bye."

lost.

shouted for her to hold on, then said

way of

huffy. I got a

"What about our

softly,

"Don't get

straightening out broads."

cat?"

"That's better. He's okay."

"What're you feeding him?" "Fresh

liver.

What

didja do with the paper?"

under the bed."

"It's

"You counted

it?"

"Of course." "I

knew you would.

You're one of them broads don't trust

her old grandma. Okay, once, kid. Here's

You

got one. I

now

what you

get this. I'm going to say

do.

saw you going

Take the bonds into his joint

to

when

it

only

your broker. I

was casing

him to sell them." "He knows I haven't got that kind of money." "Tell him your mom left them for you kids and you're just getting around to cashing 'em in. Tell him you got to have a check the next day. You got a big deal coming up. Don't fool around, if you want to see your cat again. Get the check and take it to your bank and get fifties and hundreds." "They'll ask what I want with so much cash." you. Tell

you got a deal going with an oddball

"Tell 'em

Some

in

Las Vegas.

old geezer who's cheating the tax people and does business

only in cash."

He

listen, kid,

get back to you in a couple of days

I'll

know where

to

'I've got to

laughed. "That's sure the God's truth.

Now

let

you

meet me and get your cat back."

have proof you've got him."

She heard him suck in

me what

and

his breath.

I've got to do. I've got a

"I'm not playing unless I

"You got to? Don't you

tell

notion—"

know

we're going to get our cat

back."

81

"You re steaming me, chick. I got it building up. I'd love get my hands on you— and your kid sister. A double bill." "You want the three hundred thousand or don't you?"

He was quiet a long moment, and He had not thought this far ahead. At

last

he said

quietly,

"The

cat's

she

knew he was

to

floored.

okay."

"What's he got around his neck?" she asked.

"A red

collar

and a

tag."

"What's on the tag?"

"How'd

I

know?

I don't

go around looking at tags on

cats."

"Put the tag in the mail."

"Okay, chick. cat's

okay."

He

wrong and you

I

You

wouldn't fool you.

my

got

raised his voice suddenly. "But

word. The

anything goes

if

come up with the money, that cat's dead. let him bleed to death. make you watch him die— and I'm going to rape both of you don't

I'm going to shoot darts into him and I'll

and strangle you, and

I'll

take your kid sister

first so's

you can

watch."

She shouted back me, mister. going to

fall

at him. "Don't try that scare

I don't scare.

I'll

get you the

technique on

money—but

I'm not

apart every time you say boo!"

"Shut up, you—"

She broke

in.

"And you'd

better have our cat in

—or you're not going to get one dime." She slammed up the receiver, and

good condition

sat stunned, too

much

in

shock to move.

19

Bogie returned to the apartment shortly after 3 a.m. He had stopped at a bar to belt a few. He needed them to lower his

blood pressure, after what he had gone through on the phone

with that broad.

He 82

took the steps slowly, to prove to himself he could walk a

He

straight line.

He was

could.

conscious of the quiet.

The

and the quiet was about as nerve scratching as the whang-whang-whang. Auntie was in the kitchen. With her hair in curlers, her big ears showing, and the nose seemingly honed sharper than ever, carrousel

had quit a couple

she was frightening.

The

of hours ago,

old rhinoceros. She could play in one

them horror movies without makeup. "Well?" Her old gimlet eyes went over him like a scanner. If he so much as belched, she would pounce on him. The of

old she-devil. "She's a tough, hard-nosed dame,"

"You blew gave

"I

it

he

said.

it!"

to her like

we

said

and she

gives

me

yak I'm not

till I get my hands on her." "You touch her before we get our dough and I'll blow you to kingdom come. You hear, boy? Sit down. I made you hot coffee. Sober you up. I know where you been."

taking from any broad. Wait

He repeated his conversation with the older Randall girl. He sipped the coffee and remembered to take pills from three bottles. He had a dozen lined up along the back of the drainboard. "I figured

her wrong. She's no pushover."

"Got spunk, huh?" Auntie laughed

She got

my boy's

shrilly.

"She got your goat.

goat."

you wait." "Makes no difference. She's got to play it our way. You did good, 'cept you got to simmer down. This is business. Big business. No getting het up. Kinda gives me the willies about the "Just

FBI

fellow."

He out.

pulled Ingrid's bra from a hip pocket and smoothed

"No sweat.

he gets to smellrn' around too

If

we've got one cat and two

He that

finished the

FBI

cup of

girls,

close, well,

it

now,

haven't we, Auntie?"

coffee.

"You know I'm smarter than

guy. Right?"

"My pa used to

say,

never wave a red flag at a bull."

S3

"It's

not a federal crime."

"You sure

it

ain't?"

what the Doc

"That's

But the cops could get us for

says.

we

theft— stealing a cat— or destruction of property— if off.

I'm quoting the

"She's

Doc on

gone to the

"She's told her

losin'

a

Misdemeanors."

that.

police."

boy

but

friend, too,

wad of money

"Those Wall Street guys

who

cares?"

sink.

"Bond market's been droppin.

sittin'

around

She put the dishes in the

We're

him

kill

you

steal

"Nothing's honest any more.

waitin'."

blind."

Time was when you could

trust

a soul."

He

peeled

off his shirt.

"Could be. Been on

With Auntie

"Cat kicked

my bed

all

off yet?"

day. Hasn't flicked an ear."

he headed for the bedroom. "Good

trailing,

thing she asked for the tag now.

We

might've buried

him with

the collar on."

He

switched on the bedroom light and stopped to reconnoiter.

D.C. was sprawled midway of the bed. "Whatcha think?" "Can't rightly say." She walked to the bed and stared down.

"Sure hate to see the

little

fellow go."

At the bed, he bent down

to

undo the

collar.

The

cat sure

enough was dead. Cold as Bogie's cousin Rickey, the time Bogie

went

into the police

He was two

feet.

morgue

to identify him.

slipping the collar off

when

the corpse jetted himself

With no warning, he became a screaming,

spitting

mass

of blurred black. Bogie sprang back a couple of steps, and

over a chair that disintegrated with splintering sound

The corpse landed on

all

bed, his fangs showing.

fours and advanced

He was now

to the

fell

effects.

edge of the

looking straight

down on

Bogie and giving every evidence he intended to leap on him with

all

four sets of tree-sharpened talons. Scrambling wildly,

Bogie got to his feet and backed to the door. Only then did he notice Auntie

had collapsed with

"Almost got you," she

84

said.

laughter.

"He coulda

killed

me. Mighta torn

my eyeballs

out.

Damn

little

savage."

how D.C. did it, but at that One second he was on the bed, with all

Neither could ever figure out point he disappeared.

the hissing, spitting stops pulled out, and the next, gone. Auntie

looked under the bed and in the clothes closet. "He's gotta be in this room," Bogie said, "and

him him.

.

.

.

I'll

he did

to

don't worry, I just

wont

kill

get

away with

find

him. Killing's too good for

gouge out an eye to teach him he

me and

when we can't

do what

it."

up on the bedroom. In the living room, they peered under the sofa and the television set, and behind books. In the kitchen, Bogie discovered the window up a couple of inches. After a few minutes they gave

"You crazy old

fool,"

he screamed.

"He's too big to get under there."

"Not

this cat."

Nevertheless, Bogie got

down on

all

fours to look under the

stove, then idly poked into the cat carrier sitting alongside. What happened then was pure slaughter. D.C. fastened his teeth about Bogie's nose, and, hanging on, brought his claws up in a quick, slashing movement that knifed across Bogie's neck and naked shoulders. Bogie screamed and grabbed at him but D.C. lurched and pitched and escaped. Where he went, Bogie did not know, did not care, and did not

attempt to learn.

20

Zeke had slept only an hour when an FBI technician

home and

talked

with Miss Randall. Within a half hour, Zeke was in the

office,

reported the subject had phoned the Randall and, over and over, played the tape. subject's ingenuity.

himself for a

He had

to

admire the

The kidnapper could have fenced the bonds of 25 per cent, or $75,000. But this way

maximum

85

He had

he would net the entire $300,000, or $225,000 more. flair

for the imaginative. His conversation

and

his

a

bravado in

prowling the neighborhood and the Randall house reflected an ego that might motivate him to undertake a highly reckless and adventurous move.

His ego, too, explained his flagrant contempt for the FBI

and the them.

police.

He knew

He would

they knew—but he was too clever for

outwit them. This was a chess game, and he,

a master. His scare technique

was

he

he was a meant exactly what

excellent. Either

talented actor, which Zeke doubted, or he said.

Zeke drew up a Wanted Notice. Such

notices, of course,

invariably for the apprehension of a subject. But D.C.

a subject.

He

wrote,

For Questioning.

Wanted— For

He was

losing

were

was not

Questioning, then struck out,

mind.

his

He

Wanted—Information Concerning Whereabouts.

substituted,

Quickly,

he

added,

Do

not capture. Report information immediately by phone

to the

FBI

or the police. Description follows: Black, weighs 25

pounds, has prematurely white whiskers

Now

.

.

.

Who

would look for white whiskers on a cat? In fact, he had never noticed them on D.C. until Patti had mentioned it. Still, maybe cat fanatics— and that was the proper word for them— might be whisker-conscious. He hoped Patti would not see the Wanted Notice. She would come unglued if she read Do not capture. If anybody saw the blasted cat, she would want the party to pick him up and phone

that

her.

was

silly.

She wouldn't care about apprehending the

subjects.

He sat a few minutes in revery. He wondered what his life would be like with Patti and the cat. Patti had said she would arrange for D.C. to sleep somewhere other than in the bedroom. But he could see the monster sneaking in some night and jumping up on the bed. Maybe when it was cold or rainy. He would appear heartless if he ordered the cat out. Patti had mentioned repeatedly

"He needs

how much

love," she said, "the

same

affection this feline needed. as

we

all

do/'

Love? This cat needed love the way Dillinger needed 86

it.

dawn Sunday,

Shortly after

agents spread out in Sherman Oaks

to search for D.C.'s pawprints. "If lion's,

they're his,"

you see tracks that look

like

a

Zeke had told them.

Other agents began Operation Silent Whistle in the same area

and would

later

work Studio City and Encino. The next day

another group would leave at 7 a.m. to talk with schoolchildren

and

distribute photos.

One unthinking

agent suggested the use of bloodhounds. Zeke

quickly vetoed that. Not only would the bloodhounds announce their

approach but they might render the victim asunder.

Zeke was

tered Ingrid and

Zeke

aside. "I

sis like this.

"Leave

it

Web

was

He

Randall home.

late for breakfast at the

encoun-

leaving for Sunday school. Ingrid took

you wouldn't get here.

afraid

She didn't get any sleep

I've

never seen

after the call came."

to me."

Ingrid smiled

up

him

at

adoringly. "You're

good

for her, Zeke.

She needs a strong man."

She returned to Web, who

said,

"Boy,

if

you lived

in Saudi

Arabia you could marry him, too." "Don't be gross, Web." They crossed the lawn toward Zacharia,

parked

at the curb.

"As

Dystrophy, and each

was

I

girl's

saying, I'm walking for

a dollar to the cause for each mile

me do

go alone because of what if

he caught

me by

I

I

walk, only Patti won't let

this horrible, horrible

myself, but

with me, she said okay.

Muscular

got a sponsor. Greg's mine. He's paying

wanted

when

I

said you'd be walking

to cancel out

we're to do what we've planned, and

it's

man might

but Zeke says

good therapy. Takes

things off our minds."

Web "I

stared in shock. "I'm walking with you?"

knew you'd want

to,

Web.

It

means

so

much

to people suffer-

ing from this terrible disease. Little children— breaks your heart." stole

my

"Michael Randall," she said in the peremptory tone she

re-

Mike came tearing out

of the house, shouting,

"You

bottles."

87

served for him, "I did not steal your old bottles.

and when gave

my

this child the

them

to the

know why but

get

I

"One

.

."

She turned

monopoly on the Coke

I

borrowed ten

to

Web. "Daddy

bottles,

work

since the rest of us have to

because he

it's

and he returns

is

I

don't

for our allowance,

a child."

Mike said, "and twenty-five cents interest." him and he left. Web hurried around to the driver's

dollar,"

Patti called

and was surprised

side

.

market and keeps the deposit money, only

suppose

I

allowance

to find Ingrid

the door for him. "What're

"Helping you in the

He pushed on

behind him. She opened

you doing?" he asked, wide-eyed.

car."

She returned to her

side.

the ignition but nothing happened. "You count-

ing on walking far?" "Ten, twelve miles."

He

quit working on the ignition. "Ten, twelve miles! You'd die.

The human body isn't—" "Very well, I'll go by myself and

I'd die.

have nightmares about forever."

phone

He had

me

get

if I

murdered you

for the rest of your

She had briefed him when he

first

life.

will

Forever and

arrived about the

call.

sat staring.

eaten,

maybe.

She was basically

intelligent.

He

want

said weakly, "I

to,

Something she

Inky, but I've got

fallen arches."

He was

struck

by a

brilliant thought.

"Why

the ten bucks directly to Muscular Dystrophy.

doesn't

Greg give

Why walk?"

She was patient with him. "Because we should make a That's what's

wrong with the world. People give

sacrifice.

of their

money

but not of themselves."

"You read

it

somewhere."

She patted him on the knee.

He

couldn't believe

it.

"What're

you doing?" "Patting you on the knee."

He your

got the motor started and eased into tree.

Last week you wouldn't

the movie, and later took street.

88

my

You've gone bananas."

let

me

traffic.

"You're out of

go Dutch and paid for

elbow and helped me across the

"Just an experiment/'

"Experiment?"

"How "I'll

when

does the male react

reversed?

It's

the male-female roles are

my sociology class." male reacts." He put an arm

an assignment for

show you how the

"Web Web!"

her and pulled her to him.

I

around

she cried. "You'll have

an accident."

The warning came

He pushed

too late.

and surprised the

instead of the brake

the accelerator pedal

hell out of the driver

ahead.

21

Over bacon and eggs

and Her talk was slow, her mind fogged, and he was frightened. He saw the night's ravages, and cringed inwardly, and knew anger. He wanted to lash out at this unseen enemy who had done this to her. He knew frustration, too, the stark fact that this commission of a crime must run its course and he could do little to shorten it. She had to suffer Zeke discussed the phone

through

it

alone, a cancer patient awaiting the results of tests.

"He chose Saturday night have

all

at the kitchen table, Patti

call.

day Sunday

to

to call you,"

worry about

She nodded. "He meant

it

Zeke

said, "so

you'd

it."

when he

talked about Inky and

me, what he'd do."

"Hard to tell." "No use to soften She got up.

it.

"I forgot

We

said we'd

your milk.

be honest with each other."

Why

don't

you drink

coffee like

everyone else over twenty?"

She spilled the milk She continued, I've

in

pouring

"I told

it.

Inky to go ahead with the walk but

had second thoughts.

It's

a

risk,

isn't it?

Even with FBI

agents everywhere, something might go wrong. She'll be a decoy. If

anything should happen

"For heaven's sake,

." .

.

Patti, quit torturing yourself.

Don't visu-

89

could happen. You

alize everything that

freeway on your way to work. You might

He

break your neck."

One

may get down

fall

killed

on the

the stairs and

took a gulp of milk. "One hour at a time.

hour."

He

buttered a piece of toast lavishly and smeared

was good, she thought

apricot jam. It

man.

He was

such a calming influence.

game with death shaking

with

it

watch a hungry could sit in on a crap

idly, to

He

the dice, and the players yelling and

screaming, and never raise his voice.

"What's with couldn't

silent-whistle business?"

this

you go out and

call kitty, kitty,

he asked.

"Why

way everyone

the

else

does?"

me—but

"You're trying to divert

to play the game, well, I

grown male

and if you've ever studied child psychology you'd know that you warn them when you want them to come in so they can prepare themthink

it's

degrading to

call

a

kitty,

kitty,

selves mentally."

"You mean

cat—"

this

"His name's D.C."

"Okay, okay. You mean D.C. has to prepare himself mentally?" "Right." She mustered a smile.

"And

don't give

because your knowledge of cat psychology

is

me an argument

zilch."

"For which I'm thankful."

"What

is it,

Mike?" Mike stood

in the door.

eavesdropped but he enjoyed sneaking up and

He

never exactly

listening.

held out a small, hairy object that looked dead. "Mrs.

Macdougall found

He

He

offered

it

it

to

mustache," he said.

in the bushes near her kitchen door." Patti,

who drew

probably fake." Zeke pocketed

"One minute,"

back. Zeke took

it.

"A

"A false mustache. Everything about him was it.

"Thanks, Mike."

Patti said. "What're those boxes of

worms doing

on the service porch?" "I'm getting ready to market them."

"You market them today, you hear. And get the dogs out of the garage and the alligator out from under your bed." 90

"He's only a baby alligator. I'm getting

cents a

fifty

day

to

look after him."

"You heard me, Mike." "Okay, sergeant."

He

scooted out before she could deliver a

reprimand.

Zeke

said,

"Kids have a rough time."

She laughed. "He's got more ideas for making money than a conglomerate, and the amazing thing off.

Did you know he has a good

is

that most of

now

start

for his

them pay

first

year of

college?"

They planned the next Zeke, folding his napkin,

day. "First thing we've got to do," said "is to

arrange for you to take the bonds

to your broker. You've got to play-act this all the subject's got

someone on the inside reporting

"It doesn't

make

sense," she said.

mind why, the most two thousand dollars." .

.

.

Zeke walked about,

way

to him."

"No broker

much paper work,

nobody bothers bonds

all

lifted the lid

on a pot

right

was

for

many

it.

accounts,

deal in such big figures that in their rush

to ask questions.

and

his

and smelled

roast,

They handle

the time, not knowing they're stolen.

broker, of course,

in

stock I ever bought at one time

"You'd be surprised. Brokerage houses have so so

in case the

set

it

up

for

you

to

go

stolen stocks

and

I'll

talk

with your

in.

And

the same

with the bank the next day."

She pushed back her

chair, her eyes fixed

on him. They had

alarm stamped on both. "What's the matter?" he asked, feeling the earth tremble.

She said slowly, house, the bank.

"I

go through the motions. The brokerage

What do

I

pay the ransom with

if I

don't sell

the bonds?"

Zeke cleared

his

throat.

"You

can't

sell

them. They're not

They were stolen from a New York brokerage house." want those bonds back." Her jaw was set. It was a bad sign. "They're not yours, Patti, and they're not mine. They belong—" "I heard you." The tone was cold as a Maine outhouse in

yours. "I

91

December. "You don't have perfectly "Patti,

to repeat everything to

you're trying to avoid answering

three hundred thousand in

do

hear

I

please-"

you saying

'That's another thing. I don't like

when

me.

all right."

fifties

my

please,

Patti,

questions. I don't have

and hundreds

for the ransom,

I?"

"We'll

"And

fix

up

a

dummy package." man

wait while this

I

goes through

before he turns

it

over D.C.?" "No. You arrange to exchange the package for him at the same time and we'll close in the minute you get the cat— I mean

D.C." "You're positive you'll capture

him when we make the pay-

ment? No doubt about getting D.C. back?" "Not absolutely positive but—" "Then there would be no risk in paying the three hundred thousand dollars, would there?" "Well, you see—" I see.

"Patti, please,

no

one's going to risk three

hundred thousand

dollars for a cat."

He had erred. "I see,

Fatally.

Mr. Kelso." She

He knew it immediately. rose. "I'm not certain I

man who places money above human "But

it's

not

want

marry a

to

considerations."

my money."

"Call the brokerage house."

"And

tell

"Exactly.

them,

tell

them

That we've got

that risked his

life as

serves everything the

"The Bureau wants

?" .

.

to

.

ransom a

cat.

A

an FBI informant. For

FBI can to

beautiful black cat

his country.

He

de-

do."

do everything

it

can— for him,

for

you

and Inky." "Except pay the three hundred thousand dollars that

I

you with— and now I'm asking for it back. Now, today." "The Bureau has it-and the Bureau won't let me have 9*

trusted

it

back.

"

"

It's

.

.

about.

.

it's

It's

not exactly 'human considerations' we're talking

a cat."

"You may not know

it,

Mr. Kelso, since you have shown such

antagonism toward the species, but there are millions of good

Americans who consider that a cat family,

whom we

love as I love

is

people, a

Mike and

member

whom we

Inky,

of the

protect

and look after, and from whom we get more love than we do from most of the species that calls itself homo sapiens." "I know," he said weakly. "You've hated him from the beginning— and if they kill ." him He saw his chance. As John Kennedy once said, if you see an opening, grab the ball and run. "I'd suffer, Patti, because I love you, and that calls for loving everything and anything you do." "If that's true, you'd give me the three hundred thousand .

.

dollars

som

back that you've absconded with, so

I

could get the ran-

together."

He moved coldly,

to take her into his

arms. "Not now," she said

"and maybe never."

That did

it.

"Don't

tell

me," he said angrily, "you love the cat

more than you do me?" Now he had the issue in the open. She had to make a decision. He had no doubt what it would be. She said, "I read something in 'Ann Landers' today—" "Ann Landers! What's she got to do—" "A woman wrote in." Patti moved to get the clipping from where she had parked it between jars on the drainboard. She read, "

1 have always known

that people

not to be trusted. Such a person

underhanded.

I

who

don't like cats are

invariably mean, vicious, and

is

have never met a cat hater

who

wasn't a

scoundrel.'

She raised her voice not marry a person

slightly. " 'A

who

person

who

loves cats should

does not share these feelings. Such

marriages are destined to fail. A cat hater should marry his own kind—they deserve each other. The ancient Egyptians were the wisest of all. Anyone who hated a cat was put to death.' .

.

.

93

She returned

it

"Tommyrot!"

between the

to the crack

He

jars.

could scarcely believe his hearing. Patti was

an intelligent woman. Except on

this

one subject. "What'd Ann

Landers say?" "Doesn't matter."

He maneuvered "1 have

aloud,

around her

He

get the clipping.

to

read

learned, after seventeen years of writing this

column, that cat lovers are the most fiercely dedicated segment of society in all the world. lays

on a

it

bit heavy, in

.

.

my

.

Death

opinion/

She removed the engagement ring and put

want time

He

to think

it

however,

to all cat haters, " it

on the

table.

1

over."

couldn't resist saying, "Sure, talk

over with D.C.— and

it

phone Ann Landers."

He

started to leave, then turned back. "Patti— you're

my

whole

Always will be—wedding or no wedding." At the door, he added, "I've got a case to work. I'm going protect you— unless you want another agent assigned." life.

She shook her head.

"We

can be friends." She said

in the heroic spirit of let-the-past-die.

He

"Good

it

to

gallantly,

friends."

groaned. "I never thought," he said sadly, "we'd be friends."

22 Bogie had rented the armor serviced the film studios. waist, the like steel

He

at

Western Costume, which

wore only the pieces above the

upper body, neck, and head

but was

plastic. It

weighed

parts.

little

The armor looked

and he found

it

quite

mobile.

"Smart thinking," he told Auntie, raising carrousel music. 'The

little

butcher

isn't

his voice

going to cut

above the

me up

this

time."

Auntie had plastered tape across the bridge of his nose to cover D.C.'s knife-like slashes,

and the same with the long neck wounds.

Bogie would have killed the cat on the spot but Auntie had

94

pulled her Saturday Night Special on him, and his anger had quickly simmered.

He

didn't think she

gun had brought him

sight of the

would have shot him, but

to the realization

he could

blow the setup. The two slipped through the door to the kitchen, where Auntie had enticed D.C. He was curled up before the refrigerator, enjoying the

He watched

was

stranger she

warm

air

pumped out

all right.

at floor level.

He

liked her. For a and fed him, and had She petted

her enter out of sleepy eyes.

He didn't stir until he caught sight of and he associated the armor with cement Bogie. One trucks, the vacuum cleaner, and the lawn mower. They were monsters of destruction. With one leap, he hit the drainboard, and another, the top of the refrigerator. He could go no higher. He stood with his weight shifted backward, in a pouncing position. His fur stood up, and his muscles tensed and trembled, doctored his wounds. glance,

ready to react in a their

normal

showed

size,

his fangs

second to a command. His eyes, twice

split

were

just

crazed enough to strike terror.

He

but restrained the hissing-spitting equipment.

Bogie laughed. "You ready, Auntie?" "Don't hurt him."

"He

didn't

mind ripping me

up."

." "You hurt him, boy. Bogie needed a chair, and once on .

.

it,

grabbed D.C, who

could not get either his claws or teeth into this plastic man. lurched and twisted and once almost broke the strangle hold.

He He

He used every stratagem he knew. was the same as with man when horses were first ridden into battle, and the advent of gunpowder, and tanks. He had never seen or met armor. Bogie deposited him in the sink and held his hind quarters while Auntie tied up his back legs. Then they did the same to his forelegs. It was an ignominious, bitter experience he would screamed and spat and hissed.

The

situation

never forget. still

He

did not capitulate. Even roped up like a

had tremendous body

thrust.

He would

quit,

calf,

he

pretend he had

given up, then take Bogie by surprise.

95

"What's the matter?" Bogie asked. "Can't get the bottle open/'

"You crazy

fool.

"Don't you

call

Why didn't you open it before we started?" me

names!"

With each month, he was

liking her less

and

less.

He

could

No

reason he should not. One of these days The only problem was how to shake her off. She would follow him, whining. The only alternative was to do away with her. That was an awful thing to think.

operate on his own.

he would

dump

her.

"You're not even worth your thirty per cent."

"Fifty— and don't try any "I

tricks."

wouldn't cut you in at

all

except you took

me

in

and

scraped to make a living rolling drunks."

"Shut up."

She got the bottle open. The label said

up black

for touching

D.C., she

hair.

it

was Lady Clairol—

While he took a

dyed the white whiskers

hold on

vise-like

black.

The job took only a few minutes. They had just untied D.C. when they heard an insistent knock at the corridor door, then a groan of hinges as the door was opened. They froze, including D.C, who sensed a new danger. A thin, high-pitched, scratchy voice called out, "Mr. Bogart." It was the manager.

"Hide the

cat,"

Auntie said, leaving.

In the living room, the manager stood barely inside the door, listening intently.

He was

half-dried prune face this

was

a small, insignificant character whose filled

with suspicion. "I heard a cat in

apartment," he said with asperity.

"We been

'tendm to

tell

you, Mr. Meyer, 'cept

we

ain't

complainin' kind, there's a cat keeps us awake nights.

around 'bout

this

time walkin' around out there. Scares

thing awful. Feared

the

Comes

me

some-

he'll fall off."

Mr. Meyer took several precise steps that brought him to a

window, which he opened. The carrousel music flooded looked up and

down

the ledge.

"Reckon he went home." 96

"No

in.

He

cat out here, Mrs. Bogart."

With the unerring

a hound dog, Mr. Meyer pro-

instinct of

ceeded toward the kitchen. "Here, now, where you goin'?" Auntie called

He pushed through struggling to

out.

into the kitchen, surprising Bogie,

remove the head piece. said. "Been practicing

"Oh, hullo," Bogie

who was

for the play."

Mr. Meyer saw nothing humorous or incongruous in meeting

He

a tenant in a half suit of armor.

peered into the several cat hairs ocelots,

sink,

on

looked the kitchen over,

and gingerly and with disgust brushed up "The rules forbid cats, dogs,

his fingertips.

possums, gophers, skunks, raccoons,

and

lions,

tigers. I

read the rule to you, Mr. Bogart."

"He thinks we've got a cat," Auntie said. "A cat?" Bogie was properly perplexed. Mr. Meyer stopped taking reconnaissance and "I smell a cat.

"That's

my

A

sniffed the air.

scorched cat."

lasagne," Auntie said.

Mr. Meyer opened the oven door and D.C. flew out over his shoulder, leaving in his

enough

to

wake an odor

of singed hair strong

knock over a sober man. Landing on

halted, stunned, then flew to the drainboard

top of the refrigerator.

He was

outraged.

He

his feet,

and thence

D.C.

to the

growled, shook off

lasagne from his right front paw, growled, licked the fur on his rear end,

and growled some more.

dignities in the last

hour than in

He had

suffered

more

in-

his entire life span.

"Why, Auntie, you sneaked him

and

in here

didn't tell me,"

Bogie scolded. Tears came to Auntie's eyes. "I was afeared you wouldn't

me keep

him. Poor

little

fellow."

She turned

to

let

Mr. Meyer. "A

stray. Half-starved."

"A very poor choice

He

of a hiding place," Mr.

have been. Twenty-four hours, Mr. Bogart. within twenty-four hours, rules.

Meyer remarked.

proceeded to the front door. "I'm not a hard man. Never

They may

flaunt

I will

them

in

If

the cat

is

not gone

be forced to evict you. Rules are Washington, but in

my

time

we

were men of honor. Good day." 97

The door burned

closed and Auntie turned on Bogie.

to death.

You no-good,

stupid, crazy

"We're getting rid of him," Bogie

said.

little

"We

"He couldve

shrimp."

got no choice. He's

going to blow the whole deal. We'll drown him in the bathtub."

"Over

my

dead body."

Bogie laughed. "Okay,

if that's

the

way you want it."

She swung about. "Don't go spoutin' you— and I can bury you."

off like that, boy. I raised

23

The Reverend Ron

P.

Hardwaite preached one of

better sermons, according to old Mr. Sears,

who was

the

his

self-

appointed authority on the subject. Patti had to take his word for it.

She did some of her best thinking in church and she put the

time to good use. She had insisted, under protest from Mike and Ingrid, that they all go to services as usual. to

The day promised

be a long, agonizing one of waiting, and though church

tendance would be of questionable value circumstances,

They

filled

it

spiritually,

at-

under the

was a good diversionary measure.

the remainder of the day with onerous chores long

Mike cleaned up his room with only token resistance. and Ingrid tackled the kitchen stove, and then dug out the

neglected. Patti

commonly referred to as the disaster area. Next, with Mike's help, they washed windows till dark. After dinner, they fell into bed, grateful for the numbing effect of exhaustion. At 3 a.m. Patti was still awake and tossing. Now and then Ingrid would come half conscious, mutter, then fall back into a storage closet,

deep

sleep.

Patti was torn apart. She grieved for D.C., wondered if he were being mistreated, if they would ever see him again. She debated whether to permit Inky to take the walk for Muscular Dystrophy. Most of the night, she played the tape of what she

had

said to Zeke,

and he

him, and loving him.

98

to her.

She was alternately furious with

One minute

she told herself she should

swallow her pride and admit she had been wrong. Their wedding was more important than anything in this world. Or was it? More important than principle? More important than D.C.'s

could Zeke possibly risk D.C.'s

And

life?

life?

How

his snide inference that

was not as significant in the scheme of things as a human. money. Her heart pounded at the thought of losing him, and there was a horrible sinking feeling. She remembered how he looked— utterly crushed, a little boy who couldn't go to the circus—when she had taken off the engagement ring. She never had been able to control her temper in highly emotional situations. She should have sat down and reasoned with him. But you couldn't with that man if the subject was D.C. He was polarized. Well, wasn't she? Maybe so, but her polarization had some logic. The next morning Ingrid discovered the engagement ring in a cat

Or

as

the ashtray on the kitchen table. "Sis, did you

She broke "I don't

"Oh,

off.

want

sis,

Mike sauntered

in.

"The wedding's

off."

now Zeke He said—"

"Gosh,

enough.

you

to discuss

know you

left

." .

.

?"

didn't

.

.

.

it."

"Discuss what?" Ingrid held

me

won't get

up the

ring.

into the

FBI when

I get

old

"Nothing's certain in this world," Patti told him. "I'll

say not.

I

clipped the wrong dog yesterday.

The guy who

owns him's awful mad." "I don't want breakfast," Ingrid said, and to Mike, how you can eat like a pig when D.C.'s gone." "Not

eating's not going to get

both of you,

I

want

to tell

As dispassionately

said. "Listen,

you what's happening."

FBI

as she could, she reported that the

dummy

would prepare a quarreled about

D.C. back," Patti

"I don't see

it.

ransom package. She and Zeke had Zeke had refused to return the $300,000 in

bonds she had turned over

to him. "I

never dreamed he'd em-

bezzle them," she said. "If the kidnapper discovers the fake

"But you thought a

man first phoned,"

dummy

Ingrid said.

package was

"When Mike

all

right

suggested

.

when

.

."

the

it."

99

"

'That was entirely different. That was when we thought we were expected to raise the money— and we couldn't. But we don't have to risk D.C.'s life now. If we cashed in the bonds—"

Dad was

Mike said. They had had no answer to had telephoned the motel he had given as a mailing address. He was still on the hunting trip. "You can t blame Zeke," Ingrid said. "It isn't his money, and it isn't the FBI's, and Zeke's got to return it to the brokerage house, and if they won't let him use it, well, it's not Zeke's fault, don't you see, sis?" Patti could scarcely hold in her anger. "He was all for it. He didn't think they should risk their three hundred thousand. Don't you understand, money's more important to him than life?" wish

"I

and

their letter,

"Oh, just

you're being unreasonable.

sis,

want

here,"

Patti

to say that this will

Now

don't interrupt. I

be over soon and

if

you don't say

anything nasty to Zeke—" "I've

never said anything nasty to anybody!"

"—and he

doesn't to you, then

there are harsh words, you

you two can patch

may wreck both

going to talk to Zeke and explain

it

up, but

this."

remember that term paper," Patti said. "I helped you Remember? 'The Effects of Language on Emotions.'

"I it.

"She's always quoting

if

of your lives. I'm

from something," Mike put

they got the babies mixed up in the hospital.

I

in. "I

write

think

don't think she's

ours."

Ingrid turned to Patti. "Why is it, you can divorce your husband but you can't divorce your brother?" "Okay by me," Mike said, "soon as you pay me back the dollar and quarter you owe me." "That's enough, both of you," Patti said.

A short time later, Zeke came by. Patti had desperately hoped he would. Yet she was incensed that he would drop in for breakfast as if nothing had happened. She was quietly courteous and tried to keep her eyes away from him, which she found exceedingly

Zeke 100

this

difficult

and Zeke

to

do. Ingrid

that.

was overly

attentive.

It

was

Zeke himself looked as

He

if

he had climbed

off

a freight train.

kept rubbing his eyes, to push back the weariness.

pleasant and cheerful as a mortician.

He

He was

as

outlined briskly the in-

Bureau was taking. "We'll continue a surveillance on each of you from the time you leave the house until you return. But as I said, don't look around trying to see who's following you. You could tip off the subject. Walk at your normal

vestigative steps the

gait but don't run.

usual routine.

Give the guys

When you

tailing

go to the

you a break. Follow your

rest

room, go with someone.

Hey, Mike, are you listening? That means you, this guy's

may not

ignored you in talking with your

try

because

mean he

something with you."

"Web's got band practice

"Then you wait

"We

too. Just

sister doesn't

in the

after school," Ingrid said.

band room

until

he

finishes."

usually stop at Izzy's."

"Not tonight. Come straight home. Too much can happen in a crowded place. And all three of you stay put when you get home. Don't you and Web go anyplace, Inky, and Mike, no clipping in the garage tonight. Stay in the house. tain tight security over the

We

can main-

house but not the yard or garage."

"Mrs. Macdougall will," Mike said.

Another time Zeke would have laughed. Patti to

Now

he instructed

proceed directly from the house to the Beverly Hills

brokerage firm.

He had

placed the package originally containing

the bonds in her car behind the drivers seat.

was empty, he it to her broker and talk a few minutes with him. He had been briefed and would arrange the next day to issue her a non-negotiable check. From outside came the blare of a horn blown by Web. Not a car horn but a band horn. Inky picked up her books and went said, averting his eyes.

It

She would deliver

Zeke rose to leave. "You forgot your ring,"

flying.

Patti said. "It's there in the ashtray."

He drew a deep breath. "Why don't we leave it there? You may need it later." When he was gone, Mike cleared the table, stacking the dishes with

much

clatter in the sink. Patti

watched him over the

last of

101

the coffee.

He was

such a happy youngster, never got angry,

always had a comeback for their banter. sisters,

he must

with two older

Still,

they were ganging up on him. common, but with Mike, well, it was interested in raising worms and clipping

feel at times that

She and Inky had much awfully hard getting

in

dogs.

"Mike, remember what Zeke said. So play

He

brightened. "I didn't

pushed around

know anyone

around— and

if

cool today, huh?"

way

I

get

in this family."

now you know. We've

"Well,

it

cared, the

got to have someone to push

anything happened to you

The broker was an

." .

.

He

old friend of her father's.

warmly, opened the package, looked

in,

bid was, and wrote up a sales order.

He

told her

greeted her

what the

latest

asked about the family

and how her work was going. Only when she was leaving did he say sub rosa, pretending to talk into the phone, "I was shocked to hear about this. If I can

thing at

all."

do anything,

call

me

at

home. Any-

People were so good in a time of catastrophe.

As per Zeke's

instructions, she left her car in

its

usual

stall

on

the fourth floor of a parking building near the Exclusive Shop,

and waited a minute driven by an

FBI

until a car pulled in a short distance

agent.

She proceeded then

Zeke had been concerned about complex. The agent rode

this

away,

to the elevator.

huge, often lonely parking

down with

her in the elevator, and

struck off in the opposite direction.

The day was hectic, and she was thankful. She didn't realize how bad she looked until an old war-horse said, "You must get your sleep, dearie. You can't burn the candle at both ends even if you are a

slip of a girl."

She resisted a compulsion

to

burn her

at

one end.

At noon she returned home. She did not expect a message

in

the mailbox and there was none. She assumed, and Zeke did, too, that the kidnapper

delivery until she

102

would not submit instructions for the ransom had collected the money from the bank. He

FBI and the police, if they were more advance notice than necessary. Ingrid and Mike phoned her twice that day. They did it of their own volition, and she loved them for it. Zeke did not call and she could have cried. would not want

working the

to give the

case,

That evening she pulled house. Ingrid and

Web

into a dark

driveway alongside a dark

would not be due

for another half

hour

but Mike should have arrived, and should have turned on the lights.

He

always did. She slammed the car door harder than she

intended, and stood peering into the gloom.

She heard

shuffling footsteps

on the sidewalk, the slow walk of

an older man. Wilbur took shape a few feet away and she called but he did not hear. More and more he kept his hearing aid turned

off,

the world tuned out.

He had

allowed once that the

reason for the increase in suicides was hearing the news. "Pshaw,

you read the papers, and bend an ear to the TV, and go ." movies, and the only way out's to kill yourself

A light

came on

in their fathers

her call was answered by Mike.

to the

room and she relaxed. Inside, didn't you turn on the

"Why

lights?"

"Energy

crisis/'

The energy shortage had been hard on D.C.

A

black cat in a

dark room got stepped on or kicked. She wished she could ex-

to the

many things she wanted to tell him. How long when they left on a trip, why they had to veterinarian, why he had to eat other food be-

how

they could not see him in the dark even though

plain to D.C. So

they would be gone take

him

sides tuna,

he could see them. So many things. But even without the explanations, he never held an accident against them.

He

forgave

them what must have seemed to him to be transgressions. He adapted to changes. He welcomed them back after long absences and showed his love by never letting them out of his sight until days after their return. He never expected too much. A little food and love, the freedom to prowl. She was headed for the kitchen when she heard the businesslike knock. She was startled, but shouldn't have been since she 103

recognized

it.

Any unexpected

noise these days, though, scram-

bled her nerves.

As

Greg was dressed immaculately. She had never seen He probably even wore

usual,

him

in a sport shirt, never without a tie.

one

in the shower.

"How've you been, Patti?" "Fine," she answered tersely. She was not about to resume diplomatic relations with D.C.'s mortal enemy. She had more loyalty than that, and Greg Baiter should know it, and get lost. "How's D.C.? I haven t seen the old boy around lately." "I imagine he struck you off his calling list. A fiend who'd try to set a little cat

on

fire."

He was

'Til let that pass."

quite noble about the matter. "You

missed anything pertaining to him?'' "Like what?"

He handed

"Like so."

"Didn't you notice

it

her D.C.'s metal identification tag.

was gone?

I don't

know how

he's

been

getting service in bars."

"Where'd you get

this?"

"Any reward?" "Stop playing games."

"Came in the mail. Addressed to me—with this note inside." The note was on a white scratch sheet, three inches by five. read, "Kindly

hand

It

to Miss Patti Randall."

Greg snatched the note out of her hands and returned it She was flustered and his lawyer eyes took notes on

wallet.

to his legal-

sized paper.

"Some "It's

child must've found

it,"

she said.

not a child's writing."

"No—no, "Where

it isn't."

is

D.C.?"

"I don't understand.

"Puzzling,

isn't it?

Why would anyone send it to you?"

In Bartlett versus Pearson, the plaintiff re-

ceived a cowhide—"

She interrupted. "May velope or whatever

104

it

I

came

please have the note and the enin?"

"I

assume you want them as evidential material/'

"Please,

may

I

.

.

7*

.

must assume something of a revolting nature has taken

"I

place.

Someone died

of shock as the result of a criminal act on

You could stab him— and he'd be sitting

the part of your cat. I'm sure D.C. did not die.

him, shoot him, hang him, and run over

somewhere washing

my

faces in

She slammed the door, instantly regretted "I

with innocent

his ears. I've seen criminals

years practicing law but—" it,

and opened

it.

apologize—" "Accepted." "I

shouldve slammed

"As an attorney, sion."

and

He

I'll

"You

I

it

harder.

keep

started away. "Let

Once more,

me know where

send him a box of Krunkies. .

.

.

you

.

.

."

I

want the

papers that come into

all

I

note."

my

posses-

he's serving

time

hold no malice."

she sputtered.

24

Zeke Building in

sat at his desk

Westwood and

strewn before him.

He had had

little

on the top

floor of the

Federal

stared unseeingly at the paper

He had no

idea

experience with

how to handle women beyond

work

Patti Randall.

the ones

who

had figured in his investigations. And, of course, his mother, whom he never exactly thought of as a woman. She was downto-earth, practical, and straightforward, with no feminine wiles. He supposed the women libbers would deny that a woman had wiles. He did not know about that, but whatever they had was at times baffling to the male mind. He brought himself up short. Such random thinking would not help him reach a solution. A secretary passed by. "Your grandmother die?" He straightened, pushed back his shoulders, and got hold of himself. He reached for a yellow, legal-sized pad. He would approach the problem as if it were a case assigned to him. He 105

would

set forth leads to follow.

He

wrote, "Subject of case, Patti

Randall."

The phone interrupted him. The supervisors secretary said the would see him. Newton rose stretching. He had been sitting for hours and his haunches ached. "Come in, Kelso. I saw the report. Good report. Except, use the word kidnapped instead of catnapped. The Bureau does not approve of catnapped, and while we insupervisor

vestigate the migratory bird act, there

is

no cat

act,

migratory or

otherwise. Sit down."

Zeke briefed him on the case

to date.

The mustache found by

Mrs. Macdougall at her back door was the inexpensive kind children of the

buy

first

at Hallowe'en.

The Bureau

laboratory's examination

note received from the kidnapper revealed

it

had been

typed on a 1958 Underwood upright on paper manufactured by the Walden Company of Boston and sold in variety stores. The search by agents canvassing various neighborhoods for a trace of

D.C. had proven negative. Agents running the surveillance on the Randalls had reported no suspect developments.

Next Zeke placed before Newton pencil sketches by a Los Angeles Police Department artist showing what the kidnapper

had worked with Mrs. Macdougall in drawing front and side views. He had started with a sketch based on a verbal description, shown it to Mrs. Macdougall, then

might look

like.

The

artist

modified the features under her direction until she believed

it

was a good likeness. "The subject wore large sun glasses," Zeke said, "but they were not too opaque and Mrs. Macdougall believes the artist got the eyes right. But she cant be certain about the width between the nose bone here and the upper lip since the subject wore a stick-on mustache, and the artist points out that even a slight variation could change the

man s appearance

considerably. So the artist

has drawn three frontal sketches showing this area in various widths."

Newton nodded. He was constantly awed by how accurate this particular artist was in creating "portraits" only from details supplied by someone who had seen the criminal. 106

"

Zeke continued

his report.

He

said

New

York Field had ad-

had refused, when contacted a second time, to permit the securities to be sold and the cash handed over to the kidnapper. The firm had requested that the parties involved be notified that the firm would buy the said parties a cat of their choice should the cat in question meet a sad end. Zeke said, "I don't think the Wall Street people grasp all the implications. With your permission, I'll wait until the conclusion vised that the brokerage house owning the bonds

of the case to inform Miss Randall."

"By

means," Newton said. "I've told Washington that we've

all

got a highly volatile situation here."

Zeke continued,

"I

never mention personal things in regard

my investigations but I feel now I must."

to

Newton looked

at

him

sharply.

"Do—if they

affect the case."

"Miss Randall has broken our engagement and consequently I'll

be working the case in a rather unusual atmosphere."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Kelso. But

cluded "I

maybe when

this is con-

." .

.

doubt

it.

She

feels I

have a strong animosity toward the

victim"

Do you want me to reassign the case?" "I'd like to continue working it. I won't permit my animosity— "Of course you won't, Kelso." He thought the matter over. "I

"Which you

do.

can see where you find yourself in an intransigent situation—trying to rescue a victim who's responsible for your personal di-

lemma and, if he survives, will only aggravate the situation." Newton laughed softly. "That cat must be on about his tenth life.

"I

him

He may not pull

through."

hope he does," Zeke said slowly.

"I honestly do.

She loves

so much."

"Well, cheer up.

You can always sue

Zeke nodded sadly. "That's about

it.

for alienation of affection."

Alienation of affection."

Zeke parked before Greg Baiter's home. He restrained himself from looking across the street at the Randall house, and it took considerable restraining.

By now

Patti

would be home. loy

which was unnecessary since Greg was in the driveway. He had finished putting a wax job on his low-slung sports car, and was standing back admiring it. Zeke sauntered up and said hello. "Looks great." "I take care of my things," Greg said. "I think a person should." Blitzy barked the alarm,

"Yes, of course, definitely," Zeke answered, thinking of his five-

year-old car that had never had a

wax

help in a case we're investigating.

A

job. "I

came by

to get your

criminal case. If you have a

few minutes." the cat,

"It's

isn't it?"

you about the case but we need the note that came with D.C.'s identification tag and the envelope." "She put you up to this, didn't she? I'm amazed that you— an "In a way. I can't

tell

FBI agent-" "It's

not a personal matter.

"Sure, sure. I suppose

men do do

It's strictly

when

an investigative lead."

some

you're about to be married

strange things."

strictly as an FBI agent. You do have the note and envelope, don't you? You didn't destroy them?"

"Look, Mr. Baiter, I'm here

"I think

rying far

is

you should know," Greg

said, "that the girl you're

mar-

exceedingly erratic with a temper that ignites at a point

under gasoline. Beautiful but unstable and hotheaded. Thank

heavens

I didn't

get caught in that trap. Almost did.

We

were

engaged, you know." "I'm not here to discuss Miss Randall."

"Very well—if you want to take that

my

attitude. I

merely

felt it

duty as a fellow attorney to warn you."

"The note, Mr.

Baiter,

"What's the cat done

and the envelope."

this

time?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

And I'm not at liberty to turn over evidence to any person who happens by. If you want them, you can go

"Indeed! curious

and subpoena them." "Thank you for the suggestion," Zeke said and walked off. into court

108

cryptically, turned,

Greg watched him to the car. He felt sorry for Patti. Zeke him as a very poor excuse for a husband. Greg would give

struck

the marriage six months.

No

more.

25

At midnight

Patti

expected the kidnapper to

went call

to

to sleep.

She had

She had a

dummy

bed but not

before

this.

money package about the size of a woman's suit box and wrapped in brown paper in the car trunk. If the kidnapper had followed her, he would have known that at 2:50 that afternoon she had picked up the package at the Beverly Hills bank. Previously, Zeke had informed her that several top bills on each stack were genuine, and the bills underneath the kind sold by theatrical supply houses. In the dark, they might pass. The real money totaled $2,500, which he said the Bureau had put up, $1,500 in $50 bills, and $1,000 in $ioos. Never had she experienced such a devastating day. To start with, it was a gloomy, unfriendly one and then en route home she had had a flat tire. A couple of UCLA students had noticed her plight, and while one directed the dangerous flow of traffic about the car, the other put on the spare. She had driven then to a service station to get the flat repaired. She was chilled and wet. The temperature had fallen to fifty and an ominous, dark cloud was spitting rain. Outwardly her movements were steady but inside a tremble coursed through her body. Partly, it was the cold, and partly, the anticipation that before dawn she would deliver the ransom payment in some dark corner to some ugly character. At home Web was practicing on his horn in the living room, and Inky was sprawled on the floor, taking notes from an English history. Patti repressed an urge to yell at Web. She doubted if her nerves could take it. Not this night. In her room she flounced on the bed and buried her head under a pillow. She must get herself under control. She rememlog

bered her mother teaching her that she could talk herself into any

mood, good or bad. Mike barged in unannounced, thought she was ill, and was solicitous. He could be zooming like a drag racer one minute, and the next, near tears over a bird dying.

She brought him up age "to check

it

out."

and he wanted

to date,

to

open the pack-

She squashed the idea.

"Good old D.C.," he said. "Guess this time tomorrow night he'll sitting up for his dinner, and we'll be wrestling, and every-

be

thing'll

be okay again—for

Patti sat

down

Dad when he

gets home."

at the dressing table to repair her collapsed

Mike continued, "Soons we get old D.C. back, and everything's okay again, I'll buy the Porsche." "You 11 do what?" hair-do.

"Didn't I

tell

you? This guy—he's one of

and—" "The answer's

my very

best friends—

his father lost his job

Patti broke in. "I

could make

mission and

five

hundred

no.

A big, flat no."

dollars.

Wax

it

and

fix

the trans-

sell it."

"You don't even have a

driver's permit."

"I'm not going to drive

it.

I

read in a magazine that boys

work on cars after school never get to become a drug addict?"

into trouble.

who

Do you want me

come over to and went to the living room, where Mrs. Macdougall waited. She always looked the same. She was ageless. Patti wondered if she had ever been young. "Only one egg?" Patti asked. "We've got plenty." "Just one. I'm fixing Wilbur a tonic. He's ailing something fierce. Not been himself since the shoot-out. Heard anythingp' Ingrid called to report that Mrs. Macdougall had

borrow an egg.

"We

Patti sighed

think he'll call tonight."

Til go with you." Patti

was

want only me." and that in itself was ominous. home. The fight's on at getting better be

jarred. "No, no, he'll

Mrs. Macdougall did not

"Nasty night. Well, six-thirty."

no

I

insist

fight fan. When she and Wilbur first had been passing the house one night and had heard screams. It sounded as if someone were being murdered. She had tiptoed up to the living-room window, and there inside sat Mrs. Macdougall on the edge of a chair before the television jabbing with her fists and yelling such epithets as "Kill 'im,"

She was a dedicated

moved

in, Patti

"Strangle 'im."

Web

took his horn and followed Mrs. Macdougall out.

He

told

Inky he would be back as soon as he helped his mother get dinner.

For the Randalls, dinner was a

TV

and Inky ate little but Mike was ravenous. They were finishing when Zeke knocked. He looked as beaten as a refugee. Inky and Mike got up to go but Patti insisted they stay. Zeke outlined the preparations for the ransom payment. He had charts, much like football coaches use, showing the location of Control

and the FBI

a "moving surveillance" "Don't drive

go

lights, or

car.

fast,"

The

cars.

when

she

cars, left

one. Patti

he

would proceed

in

he cautioned, "and don't run any stop-and-

the yellow. Take your time parking and leaving your

Give the agents a chance to get

unless

said,

the house.

we can do

so without endangering

set.

We

won't

move

in

you—"

"Or D.C.," she added quickly. slightest warmth toward her, said he was would have been in his arms. When he had walked in the door, she had longed desperately to rush up and kiss him. But he had been only proper and reserved. Zeke continued, "You must insist when he phones that you want D.C. when you hand over the money. Sometimes in these If

he had shown the

sorry, she

kidnappings they release the victim after taking delivery of the ransom."

him no D.C, no money. But what if he promises, and I get there— he can take the money from me by force." "We'll have to play it by ear. We'll be nearby." "I'll tell

then

when

"Something could happen." "I told

you before, don't

anticipate."

111

go for playing

"I don't

by

it

ear. I

want

to

know what

I'm go-

ing to do no matter what happens."

"Of course." In leaving, he said awkwardly, "I'm praying

God it all works He closed the

out. I

.

.

.

I

to

." .

.

door quickly and was gone. For a moment she

stood transfixed. She had heard love, or something closely akin to

it.

Then she shrugged. Probably he forth to

said that to everyone setting

meet a kidnapper.

Mike turned in about ten after extracting a promise she would awaken him, and Ingrid followed at eleven. Poor Inky. She had struggled hard to maintain poise but finally the tears had burst through. For an hour they had talked, and never had been so close. They discussed the future and their mothers plans for them; their father, and how he was giving too much of his life to them, and they must insist he move more among his own age group and enjoy life; Inky's studies and Web, and Patti's

When

modeling

job.

withdrew

into herself

"I

the subject turned to Zeke, though, Patti

and Inky, wise

have the horrible

something

terrible's

feeling,"

to her

moods,

let it

drop.

Inky said as she undressed, "that

going to happen, and we'll never see each

other again."

"Nonsense.

It's

the setup.

A

rainy, cold night.

It'll

look better

in the morning."

"You

feel the

same way, sis. I can tell. I get these emanations." "You know what I think?"

Patti tried lightness.

Inky was indignant.

"I don't feel like joking.

never, never, never see each other again

Patti

dozed

fitfully.

Any

little

noise

.

.

Oh,

sis,

if

we

."

awakened

her, or stirring

however slight. Each time she woke up, she glanced at the radio clock Zeke had given her on her last birthday. Once her fogged thoughts glowed briefly in memory of that day: the drive over the mountains to the town of Ojai, lunching at a of a thought,

country club overlooking a sun-bathed, peaceful golf course, the leisurely drive

112

back to Los Angeles, and that night to a

Phil-

harmonic Symphony concert under Zubin Mehta's direction.

And

and carefree chatter, an escape for a few hours from a world that depressed them with its monumental problems, and yet inspired them with the hope that there would be a better age if they and others worked for it. Shortly after two o'clock she was nudged awake by the brush of feet over grass and the louder tattoo of the same feet over the concrete walk. She came bolt upright when a fist pounded repeatedly on the front door. The blows threatened to burst it open. Then a voice began shouting, "Patti! Patti!" She should all

the day, laughter

have recognized

it

but sleep

still

clung tenaciously to her senses

and his voice was off-key with turbulence. Fumbling for a robe, she ordered Inky, who was out of bed, to stay put, and now fully awake, with the pounding and shouting a slap of cold water on her face, she half ran. She screamed when she bumped into Mike in the dark hallway. Angered by the sudden fright, she sent him packing back to his room.

Opening the door, she stepped back to admit Greg, who burst few feet, then came to a sudden halt. He, too, was in a robe, a stylish, Chinese-red one with a high Mandarin collar.

in a

"What the world!" Patti said. "I want an explanation. What the here?

I just

talked with the guy

who

blazes

stole

is

your

going on around

cat/'

"You did what?" "Don't pretend.

He mimicked

I

asked you yesterday where the cat was."

was when you wouldn't've then-" "Greg, "That's

some place. Time me—but we were engaged

Pattfs voice. "Oh, he's around

we were

lied to

never engaged." forgive you.

all right. I

Ransom?

He

says he's holding the cat

him the neighborhood would pay up a collection, I said. And then there was a lot of gibberish about three hundred thousand dollars, about you paying him that. I said you didn't have three hundred thousand dollars. Not that I knew of. It was a wild

for ransom.

him

to

keep the

cat.

I told

We'll take

U3

conversation.

At

first I

thought

I

was

talking to a nut.

But then

he says you've got the three hundred thousand dollars already

and you're waiting for instructions on how to pay it. Do you have three hundred thousand? Don t tell me even you would pay that

much

for a lousy cat."

Patti struggled to maintain her cool.

What

"Why'd he

you?

call

does he want you to do?"

"I'm the go-between."

"The what?" "The go-between. You know,

in kidnappings

sometimes the

make the arrangements and maybe pay the ransom. Keeps the police busy and insulates him somewhat. The criminal, I mean. Although this is not a kidnapping and I told him so. It could only be interpreted legally as plain, petty theft, and anyone who'd pay three hundred thousand dollars to ransom a cat is off his rocker. And as for acting as a go-between for a cat that's made life hell for me, he criminal chooses someone to

to

could go find a lake to jump

in."

up behind them. "Oh, Greg, you

Ingrid had slipped

him down?" "Well," Greg continued, "he

didn't

turn

said something then about

how

he'd like to get his hands on you two, and since we've been friends so

many

years

.

.

."

"Greg, please, please get to the point."

him okay, and I'm glad I did because he wants you, Inky, to pay the ransom. I'm to come along and pick up the cat while you give him the money. My God! Ym to pick up the lousy cat! Me, who'd like to hang him to the nearest tree." "Well, I told

"You got instructions—" We're to go to a phone booth at this address." He the robe's pockets and then the pajama's. "Must've

Patti interrupted.

"Yes, yes.

searched in

by the phone. I was so excited. Hope Blitzy doesn't chew it up. He's to phone us at the booth and tell us where to go from there." "When?" left it

"Now—in 114

an hour. Three-thirty sharp

he'll call us."

Tm going," Patti said. Ingrid raised her voice. "No,

sis."

"He won't make the deal with you, if

you came, he wouldn't show.

Patti.

I don't

He

said so.

He

said

know why but he wants

Inky."

"Doesn't matter what he says," Patti answered got the money. If he wants

Ingrid touched her see?

No

D.C. and

it,

he gets

sister's

it

"I've

flatly.

from me."

arm. "I've got to go,

sis,

don't

you

matter what you say, he's calling the plays. He's got

we want him back

if

." .

.

"Something can go wrong." "It won't.

Not with Greg along."

"Thank you. I'm glad

to

know

there's

one

woman

in this house-

hold has respect for me." Patti

home

Greg

my

was

shattered. "I can't stand

while you

it,

Inky. I just can't stay at

." .

.

started for the door. "I've got to get dressed. We'll take

car."

"No, the money's in ours," Patti told him. "All right. I

My, what a

night. Well,

I'll

be back

in a half hour.

should get someone to stay with Blitzy. He's a nervous wreck

when I'm gone nights." The moment the door

closed, Patti returned to the

bedroom,

by Inky and Mike. She picked up her purse where she had left it by the door, and took out a sending device that Zeke had given her. It was the size of a package of cigarettes. She flipped the "on" switch, and said into the device, "I'd like to talk with Agent Kelso, please." Her call went to Control and was relayed to Zeke, who sat in an unmarked, black Bureau car parked two blocks from the trailed

Randall home. "Kelso here."

She was

terse, as

Zeke had asked her

Baiter about ten minutes ago instructed

Greg and Inky

to be.

"He

called

Greg

and named him go-between. He

to report to a

pay phone

at three-

I'll have to call you back about the location of the phone booth. But should I let

thirty a.m. to receive further instructions.

«5

Inky go?

I

one motive

think I should go since I'm older. in

demanding

that she

make

He

can have only

the payment."

Zeke did not respond and she thought she had then he said,

"I'll

have to get back to you on

She was amazed

at

how

lost contact,

that."

calmly she had stated the

facts.

Special Agent Stu Plimperton sat behind the wheel, alongside

Zeke. In his early thirties, Plimperton

had a

relaxed, squashed-

Everything about him seemed to sag, but his appearance

in look.

was deceptive. He shot a 92 on the practical pistol course and had a high mark in the exams the inspectors gave. "I've got something to work out," Zeke said by way of forestalling talk. He slouched down and closed his eyes. He had only minutes to ponder this surprising turn of events. He pushed aside a creeping fear as if it were an inanimate object. He thought through several possibilities: the subject might kill Greg outright and seize Ingrid. He might do this before the agents could

make

a counter move. Patti might be stronger physically than

Ingrid in resisting the subject but not sufficiently strong enough to

escape him. So strength was not a determining factor.

Patti's

judgment might be better but not overly so. Ingrid had impressed him with her reasoning and decisions. Judgment was not a matter necessarily of age.

To kill

become

return to the criminal: he might

instructions

were not followed.

If Patti

infuriated

if

his

took the money, he might

her on the spot. If Ingrid went, and he grabbed her, Zeke

doubted

if

he would attack her,

scene of the rendezvous.

he had that in mind, at the More likely, he would take her someif

where, thus giving the agents time in which to plot and execute a countermove.

He

picked up the car radio, and

said, "Patti, follow subject's instructions.

when he reached Patti, Send Ingrid to make the

payment. Repeat. Follow subject's instructions implicitly."

She had the address of the pay phone.

It

was

in the Signal

Hill area.

Now 116

Zeke

sat straight, his eyes fixed like binoculars

on the

Randall home. Occasionally, he took a deep breath, working his lungs

He

with

effort, as if

he could

lift

the heaviness of heart.

loved Patti Randall and would forevermore.

to the Randall

home

this

He had

gone

night hoping she had relented. If she

had given him only a word of encouragement, even asked how he was feeling, anything personal, he would have taken her into his arms. Instead she had behaved as she would toward any FBI agent. Courteous and attentive but distant.

26 D.C. squatted at the window, staring tion of the carrousel,

which

down

in the direc-

at this hour, past 2:30 a.m.,

was

tucked under him. A cold rain was falling and he was miserable and hungry. In his grief over the loss of his people, he could not eat, even though the woman had encouraged him. His black, satiny coat had turned lackluster and his eyes had lost their sparkle. The pain in his side, where the dart had entered, was dull but constant. He sat around a lot quiet.

He had his paws

outside,

these days staring vacantly.

On

hearing an old, familiar sound below, he half-heartedly

put up his

The sound was a garbage can going over. There was a cat or dog scavenging down there. If he had been home and heard such a sound, it would have been a Wednesday, which to the cat world was what Saturday night was to humans. Garbage cans, as far as a cat eye could see, were lined up Wednesday evenings, waiting for the rubbish people, who came early Thursdays. There was little in them that a discerning gourmet such as D.C. cared for, but the excitement was in knocking the can over and exploring. Sometimes a dog came nosing around but not often. In D.C.'s neighborhood, the dogs were locked up ears.

early.

The sound tapped other memories, such as getting home shortly before dawn on the rare occasions when he went out on the town. He would wolf down leftovers he had disdained the 117

night before, and stretch out full length on the bed while Patti dressed,

and then slowly sink

Upon

the whole blessed day.

him

gently,

off to sleep

with nothing to do

leaving, Patti

and Inky would pet

and sometimes, Mike

did,

when he thought about

Mike's good-byes, though, got the fur ruffled the wrong way,

it.

and he had

to

awaken

to

smooth

it

down.

He

couldn't get to

sleep with his fur out of place.

Bogie and Auntie came out of the kitchen and flooded the living

room with

light.

Auntie had the carrier and put

it

down by

the door. D.C. followed her movements with alarm. As desper-

he wanted to escape the apartment, he did not wish to by the carrier. He might give them a struggle. Definitely he would if the jerk picked him up. With the woman he might not. She was not a bad sort. Bogie headed for the bathroom, trailed by Auntie. Although it was cold, he was sweating. He sopped up the perspiration with tissues and powdered his face. His hand was erratic as he ately as

leave

ran the electric shaver through heavy black stubble.

From

the doorway, Auntie watched with growing suspicion.

"Whatcha shavin

for?"

"Gotta be doing something."

had carried in with him. "You got one of them Randall "I told you, only the

He

took a gulp of the scotch he

girls

corning?"

lawyer guy."

"You wouldn't cut your whiskers

for him."

"Don't hassle me." "I'm

a

girl

tellin'

you, boy,

if

you're

up

to

any monkey business with

and blow this—"

"Shut your cotton-pickin old mouth! Always running

offl"

He

slapped an after-shave lotion over his cheeks, then polished his

cowpuncher

boots.

He

put a

lot of

energy into doing the

job.

"I'm only askin'," Auntie whined, "you tend to business

we

till

get the dough."

do? Take the Boy Scout oath?" He opened the medicine cabinet, chose a bottle of amphetamines,

"What you want me

to

took out one, shook out a

118

pill

from another container that was

stomach upset, and then a tranquilizer. He washed them simultaneously with a long draft of scotch. Auntie shook her head in disgust. "Hope ya don t croak before

for

down

you get the money." He brushed by her to return to the living room. Following, she said, "Makes me sick to my stomach, all the money we lost on them bonds." The bond market had dropped with a jolt the

"Twenty minutes," she added.

past week.

"I got a watch. I'm a big boy. I

can

tell

time."

He

slipped into

a denim jacket.

"Don't forget your slicker." She handed him his raincoat.

He

took

it,

dropped

on the cocktail faster

shuffled a

He

about that?"

pack of cards

dealt the cards

than the eye could follow. "Ever see anything like that?"

"A card

He

and

to the sofa,

"How

table.

cheat! Ain't

shrugged.

you got no ambition?"

"When you going

She turned from watering a

to kick off, Auntie?"

plant.

She could only

stare.

He continued, "Little game I play with the guys When do we think we'll kick off. Gives you the old gets the juices going thinking about

"You better lay

He

laughed.

sometimes. shakes and

it."

off the sauce."

"How

old are you, Auntie? 'Bout

fifty-five, isn't

Not a bad age to send for the undertaker. Fifty-five. Before you get all them aches and pains. While you're feeling good. You've had a good life, like they say. What about it, you ready it?

to go?"

Her eyes "Forget

blazed. "You aimin' to help

it,

Auntie. Only a game."

Auntie sprang up. "Let

me

me?"

He walked toward D.C.

put him in the box. Little fellow's

so nervous. Strange place. Ain't slept

no trouble

When fur,

and

seein' as

how

I

like

He

won't give

me

Bogie neared, D.C. rose, arched his back, ruffled his spat.

Bogie laughed. "You spitting

He

much.

feed him."

little

beast!"

turned toward the door. "Guess

I'll

get started. Nothing

being early. Three hundred thousand smackeroos!

Wow! 1*9

We'll be rich, Auntie. Rich.

go to

We

can

anybody we want

tell

to to

hell/'

Auntie started to pick D.C. up. Bogie

said,

Tm

not taking

him."

She swung about. "Look here, boy, don't go changin the setup at the last minute.

'Tm

We worked

it all

out. They're expectin him."

not taking a screaming savage."

"But Mr. Meyer— he'll be in here in the mornin'

sniffin'

around."

Til think of something

He

to

do with the cat before then."

shut the door softly. Auntie stood immobilized, then drifted

and rubbed

to D.C. "It's all I

his ears. "I did

can do. The creep. The dirty

my

best," she whispered.

little

creep."

27 Ingrid backed the car out of the driveway, and as she

pulled forward, waved. Soon the car was only a taillight receding in the distance.

Patti

and Mike drifted

Patti put

to the kitchen.

Mike looked

shattered.

an arm about him to console him, then broke

herself.

He straightened, rubbed his eyes, and said in a firm voice he had somehow mustered, "Greg'll take good care of her." He was now the man of the house. The dark, the chill, and the rain, which was increasing in intensity, had taken their toll. Man, Patti thought, was barely out of the cave.

He

no more dread sunlight.

could reason with himself that he should have

"in the very witching time of night" than in the

But logic could not overcome

his

primeval fear of the

dark and the elements. Ingrid drove slowly, carefully. She was terrified but exhil-

"Here I come, D.C," she repeated to herself. Heading west on Ventura Boulevard, for the San Diego Free-

arated, too.

120

way, she

filled in

he was drawing a

Greg. brief.

He listened her out, then talked as if He was a different Greg from the Greg

known all these years. Once on the freeway, she resisted an impulse

she had

on the accelerator. Rather, she drove

fifty

push down miles an hour in the to

slow lane. She was conscious of the weight of the two-way radio in her bra.

She had

set

it

on the "on"

position.

Zeke could hear

what was said within a wide radius. She had stuck the beeper, which had a suction cup, under the panel. Zeke and the agents, if they lost visual contact, could follow her by the beep-beep it

constantly broadcast.

In giving his instructions over the radio before she

left

the

had been gentle and solicitous. He had let her know he cared. He was such a great guy. She could not understand how Patti and he could have quarreled. They were deeply in love, and had so much in common. She would never understand house, he

adults in their love-sex relations. So often they created their

own

difficulties

and problems. Maybe

love, as

someone had

said,

self-destructed.

He had

"Move slowly and do everything with great deliberation. Concentrate all the time on what you're doing. I know it's an awful spot, Inky, but you'll come through because said,

you've got the judgment and the guts.

"Don't cross him

if

you can help

it.

Follow

but don't hand over the money until you get the to

worry you but

I

may make advances he does, do a

his instructions cat. I don't

want

have to because you know yourself that he or want you to go somewhere with him. If

and if you get into a real tight and cry, and say you broke your ankle. Anything to gain a little time. We're going to be close-by but we'll stay out of it until we're sure we won't endanger you by moving in. "Keep going over all of this while you're driving, so that you'll lot of talking,

spot, stumble,

react without thinking. lot to

me. You're the kid

Any

And

don't forget, Inky, that

sister I've

you mean a

always wanted."

would have been in a huff over the kid Anyone could see she was quite the young woman

other time she

sister bit.

121

with a seductive potential. But

now

she rather liked the kid

approach. Zeke was cute.

sister

Stu Plimperton drove, cold through and through. At his

side,

Zeke kept in radio phone contact with four other cars engaged

He had choreographed the operation with the and precision of a ballet master. One car on the fast lane

in the surveillance. detail

passed Ingrid and Greg, raced far ahead of them, then

The

the

left

two minutes on a street below before returning to the freeway. By this time he was well behind her car, and took the slow lane. At this point, a second car, running on the middle lane, moved into the fast one to repeat the procedure just completed by the first. In the meantime, a third car well ahead of her maintained the same speed that she freeway.

did.

A

driver sat exactly

would drop back Zeke and Plimperton oper-

fourth was ahead of the third, and

shortly to take over the center lane.

ated as free agents, usually far in the rear, but shooting forward

few other vehicles on the freeway. clearly. They could have followed her at a distance of a half mile, or more, but Zeke preferred a visual tail job. They might spot another surveillance, if the subject had decided to run one on her before the rendezvous. Zeke said into the phone, "All units. We are nearing exit point. Discontinue maneuvers and maintain same position as at present. Keep the same distance from the Randall car. Unit Two will leave the exit ahead of Randall. Unit Three will follow Randall. All other units will continue past exit for Randall and occasionally to scan the

The beep sound came over

take the next off ramp."

The time was The

3:21.

The countdown, nine

minutes.

closed and dark gas station was an oasis surrounded

by

weeds and shrubs. The telephone booth sat in a corner of the lot some distance from the pumps. Ingrid brought the car up alongside the booth, which was glassed in on three sides. The time was 3:27. On the second fields of

ring,

122

Greg was

inside the booth.

He

said, "Hello

.

.

.

hello

.

.

.

hello."

There was no answer, and he raised

his voice, as if

he

might arouse someone by sheer volume, "Hello!"

A all

drawl came back. "Cool

night.

The Randall

girl

it,

guy. What's the hurry?

We

got

with you?"

he said evenly,

"She's outside in the car,"

as

he would in a

courtroom.

"The young one?" "Yes." "I'll

rip the other

"You want

one open

if

she comes."

me to put Ingrid on the phone?"

phone book, down low. Turn to R. R for Randall." He slammed up the receiver. Clumsily, Greg dragged the heavy phone directory out from a shelf under the phone. The book opened to R, and he took out a legal-sized envelope that was sealed and addressed to "Hell, no.

You

see the

Miss Ingrid Randall.

By

had ripped the envelope The overhead light was too dim for them to read the message, which had been typed with a faded, old ribbon. She reached nervously across Greg for a flashlight in the car pocket. the time he returned to the car, he

open.

For Zeke's benefit she read aloud:

on the freeway and go south, get off at third sec miles to the sampson odl field, park car by the first telephone pole on the right, climb the fence, and walk straight ahead to odl well thirtyfour, get rh) of balter and bring no one with you. no one. deal is off and i wtll choke cat to death if i see anyone with "get back

ramp. turn right and drive

YOU."

Greg was talking before she

finished.

"You

can't

go by your-

self." "I'll

pick you

up on the way back."

"For God's sake, Inky, don't.

I

won't

let

you."

"Zeke will be around." "Sure,

and

police will

be

this

guy knows it. He's got to know the FBI or the But he's figured something out."

there.

"He'll kill D.C.," Ingrid said. "I

know he

will."

She

felt

her

123

blood pounding and realized she was in a compulsive tried to slow herself

We

down. "Please, Greg.

can t

state. sit

She

around

talking/'

She started the car and moved forward a few feet. "I think flat!" No sooner had he gotten out to check than she

we've got a

pushed on the accelerator. The car buckled and leaped and shot forth. It dropped off a curb, and straightened out for a fast run

down

a deserted, two-lane street.

28

The windshield wiper barely kept up with the pelting and sheets of water cascaded across the narrow, lonesome road. Her breath gathered on the windows and she slowed frequently to wipe a circle free for vision. The ailing heater temrain,

pered only

slightly the pervasive

She regretted having

damp

chill.

to strand Greg. "Zeke, I ditched

come

since the note said to

alone.

him

left

I

at the

Greg phone

booth."

"Okay, we'll pick him up soon as possible. Take you, and give us time to get

set.

But not so slow

it

slow, will

it

looks sus-

picious."

"Will do."

In the far distance, a giant refinery wavered in and out of her vision. Its

disembodied

bobbled

lights

eerily.

A

sign

loomed on

her right: Sampson Oil Field. She braked the car, and noted the chain-link fence bordering the road, poles.

and a

string of telephone

She slowed even more to give an approaching car time

was creeping through the blinding rain. The kidnapper could be checking to assure himself she was alone. to pass.

It,

too,

Parking alongside the noticed the crickets—the fence.

first

oil

pole,

pumps—working away behind

the

She called them crickets although others termed them

mechanical horses or big birds. They were bug-shaped structures that rose about the height of a

124

then

she sat in thought,

man, and

steel

their "heads"

seemed

to

be pecking incessantly, up and down, up and down, as

they sucked the thick black ooze from the sandy beds far be-

neath the surface. Years ago, the

Long Beach

area, derricks

like a forest of obelisks.

when

oil was first discovered in by the hundreds pierced the sky

With the drilling operations completed, by the crickets. Even with the win-

the derricks were replaced

and the storm, she heard their metallic chirping. She was terrified. She would not deny it. What had started out as an adventure had taken on stark reality. Not that she feared being harmed. Nothing like that. Zeke would protect her. He

dows

closed,

would

risk his life for her.

Why was it then that she was so frightened? It was

the weather

was would merely hand the package over She and get D.C. The very thought of D.C. in her arms, and hearing him purr out his happiness, calmed her. She resolutely pushed aside mostly, she told herself. This rendezvous with the kidnapper

nothing

really.

Then

the

thought popped in that D.C. might escape from him, take

off

the possibility that the kidnapper might not bring D.C.

and they might never find him. Patti and Mike, would help her search. Anytime she needed them, they were there—and her father. They were such a tightly knit family. Suddenly her love for them was more intense than at any time she could remember. She must never give them cause for worry, not even Mike, who was a pest, but a good-hearted, into the storm,

of course,

well-meaning pest.

She turned

off

the lights and radio, took the keys from the

heard the beat of the rain and her heart, and wriggled

ignition,

into a thin, plastic raincoat.

out of sight. light

lit

The

up her

car slowed,

area.

She pressed herself

beam moved about her switched

off,

As a car approached, she ducked and stopped, and a powerful spotflat

against the seat.

The

what seemed minutes, then was and the headlights moved on down the road. The car for

driver might report a deserted car to the California

Highway

Patrol.

She hurried. She pushed the door open against a stiff wind, and once outside, glanced warily about but saw no one. Visibility, 125

though, was extremely limited. At the trunk, she fumbled with the keys. If I'd been smart, I would have had the key ready before leaving the car. She got the package,

and slammed the trunk

shut.

She recognized the impossibility of climbing the fence with the parcel in hand. If she tossed

it

over,

it

might come apart.

Falling to her knees, she clawed at the soggy earth beneath the

and soon had a space large enough so she could shove it Her knuckles were bleeding, but what dismayed her more were her broken nails. It would be weeks before they grew back. Now she took a good look at the fence and instantly forgot fence,

under.

about her

nails.

After several attempts to scale

it,

she tried en-

larging the hole in order to crawl under, but hit rock. In desperation, she

took

off

her shoes, pushed them through the hole, and

aided by shallow toe holds in the wire mesh, managed to pull

and claw her way up— only

to find a single strand of

wire stretched along the top. In getting over

it

barbed

she tore her pants

and patches of skin off her legs. Once inside the oil field, she was conscious that the chirping of the crickets was more clanking than chirping. She stood a moment peering into the dark, her body and spirits cold and miserable, her hair soaked, her feet caked with oozing mud, blood seeping down her legs, and the rain smarting her face. She was no longer terrified. She had a job to do, and the mechanics of doing cricket,

it

blotted out the fear. She stopped at the

which nodded repeatedly.

like characteristics.

It

first

did seem to possess bug-

She noted a number painted on

its

back.

She took a long, deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and into the dark. The noise enveloped her,

walked dead ahead foreign to her ears

and weird to her

senses, a dentist's drill

grinding deep.

Garbed

in old denims,

Zeke crawled through the mud, taking

care to keep his head low.

En

route,

he had requested Control

anyone associated with the Sampson Oil Field and learn the exact location of No. 34. Now he had fourteen agents

to contact

126

deployed about No. 34. They were fixed positions. Zeke had advised

all flat to

that,

the ground, and at

while only one subject

was likely to appear to collect the ransom, he might have an armed cover in the background. The weather favored the subject. If he broke and ran, he would have better cover, and if he got through the cordon, the rain and darkness would quickly swallow him. Zeke lay chilled to the bone only twenty feet from No. 34. He saw no one although the subject could be crouched on the other side of the pump. He whispered his instructions into a mike tucked inside a buttoned jacket pocket. He spoke as few words whisper carried farther than the

as possible, conscious that a

speaker usually thought. faint

And even on

human note— a whisper

a night such as

or scrounging in the

mud

this,

any

or clear-

ing of a throat— could tip off a highly sensitive ear.

wind whose intensity 34. She had to wipe water and oil from the number, and stare intently. It was badly scarred. She checked it a second time, dubious because no one was about. She was shaking, but more with cold than fear. She had a compulsion to call out, but something told her not to. She walked about, moving ever farther from No. 34, thinking the criminal might be at another cricket. But after a few minutes, she concluded that he had planned deliberately to let her After a half hour of struggling against a

growled ever louder, Ingrid reached No.

wait, to unnerve her.

Suddenly her legs threatened to buckle but there was no place

The wind grew temperamental, and reversing whipped her with the rain. Nonetheless, she took off her raincoat and wrapped it about the water-logged package. She couldn't have it disintegrate. Soon she was wet to the skin. She turned incessantly about, fearful he might take her by to sit or lean. direction,

surprise.

She had no instructions about what to appear. until

But she needed none.

If

to

do

if

she had

the criminal failed to,

she would wait

dawn. She must be here when he came with D.C. 227

29 Auntie was uneasy. By

now

with the money. They should be counting

it.

Bogie should have returned

sitting at the kitchen table

He had sworn if he was how the police put the

Something had happened.

arrested, he'd protect her.

No

matter

screws on him, he would never give her away. She didn't

know

that. These last few years the boy had changed. Wild women, and booze, and threatening to keep most of the loot when they had always divvied everything even.

about

She poured herself her it

fifth

cup of black

She needed walked to the

coffee.

to control the shakes. In the living room, she

window and

stroked D.C.,

who was crouched

staring

down

at

He saw movement, and though she watched couldn't. She rubbed his neck. He was a nice, old

the carrousel. intently, she

had a

fellow. She'd

Lincoln. She called

when

she returned

cat

when

she was in high school.

him Abe. He

slept

Abraham

with her and was around

home from school. He seemed to know when Funny that she'd remember Abe. Hadn't

she would be coming.

thought of him in years. "Don't you worry now," she told D.C. "I'm not

lettin'

him do

nothin' to you." Four-triirty,

grilling

own

skin.

her watch read. The police had the boy and were

How

you figure He had no love for her— and

him.

else could

it?

He'd

talk to save his

after all she'd done.

He

was crying and half starved when she found him. She'd paid out good money for clothes, and kept him in school excepting when she needed him on the job. He was a bright one. He'd go along with her to department stores and when she'd get a radio or a small fur piece tucked in the carryall, she'd give it to him to take outside to the car. No one ever suspected a twelve-year-old. At sixteen, he was her lookout on bank jobs. He'd mosey around while she was sticking

up a 128

teller.

Once he wounded

a security guard they didn't

know the bank had, when the guard tried sneaking up on her. The boy let him have it right in the gizzard with a .38. He was good with weapons. They'd go out in the country and set up cans, and he'd pop them off one after another with seldom a miss.

After shooting the security guard, the boy ate dinner— he

remembered well— and watched

pizza that night, she like

had

television

nothing had happened. She thought he should have shown

He might

have killed the man. But

some

regret.

him.

The guard was the enemy and would have mowed her

down.

Still,

They could have gone up

stiff.

life.

That was the to

didn't bother

a boy of sixteen should feel something. She had.

For one thing, she was scared for

it

risk.

although one bank told

The

crooks.

Four

They weren't getting enough money The most they ever got was $1,600, the newspapers they got $10,000. The

holdup.

last

run that kind of

president probably pocketed the difference.

forty-five.

Maybe

she should take

off.

catch her. No, the best thing was to brazen

it

But they would out.

She would

play the part of the sweet old lady and say the boy was lying.

The cops would believe her. D.C. pawed at the window lock, then looked up at her. "You tryin' to tell Auntie you want out? You're a smart one." She disappeared a moment, and when she returned, had a plastic bottle of spray disinfectant. She rubbed his chin and he purred. Picking him up, she laid him lengthwise on the sofa, and still petting him, examined the wound. She had cut the hair away. Gently, she picked stroked his

was up took

to,

He

off

the scab, revealing an

angry-

resumed purring when she head and talked to him. Before he knew what she she sprayed the wound. He reacted instantly and

looking puncture.

resisted but

off.

She coffee.

let

him

She sat

go,

and dropping

to the sofa, finished the cold

lost in thought. After

they quit holding up banks,

she started putting out paper. Forty dollars here, sixty there. It

took a lot of bad checks to add up.

Then

a gentleman friend

12Q

told her about his son Street brokerage house.

who worked The

messenger for a Wall were fabulous. His son

as a

possibilities

had picked up a $10,000 Treasury bill easier than she could lift suit. The gentleman friend thought he could get

a $70 pants

Bogie a job also as a messenger.

He

did,

and Bogie fared

He

well.

took his time. Like she had

taught him, he was thorough about his homework.

houses had undercover

men

all

By then

over the back rooms.

A

messengers were caught. But the boy was smart.

He

out a few bonds every day addressed to a phony

name

the

few

mailed at a

post office box she rented. Right in front of everyone, he put

them

in the big manila envelopes the house

into the house's outgoing mail bins. smiles.

The house had even paid

He wanted

to

used and tossed them

He would come home

all

the postage!

go for a million, but she figured get out while

They returned to Los Angeles since she banker— big race-track gambler—who was in desperate a a financial difficulties. She figured he would pass the securities through the bank. They would have to split with him. But when they returned they learned he was critically ill. Then it was that the boy had his idea. At first she thought it wild, but the more he talked, the better she liked it. It was, in fact, brilliant. She took credit. She'd brought him up right, hadn't she? Given him a good the getting was good.

knew

education.

Five o'clock. D.C. was back at the window.

When

she ap-

proached, he eyed her suspiciously. But since she didn't have the hissing bottle, he let her stroke his back. She began with

head and ran her hand all the way to his tail. He looked up at her out of big, bright eyes. Those eyes got her. Nobody had looked at her like that in years. She realized she was terribly lonesome. Alone and lonesome. The boy didn't count, and hadn't for a long time. She was only someone he needed in the business. "Wish I could keep you," she told D.C. "Sure wish I could."

his

She unlocked the window, and opened

it,

turned her back on

him, and walked away. She didn't look back and went to the kitchen.

130

She heard Bogie then on the stairs outside. His walk was slower and heavier than usual but still identifiable. Like an old dog that perks up his ears at the sound of a motor long before the car

comes

in sight, she

recognized that walk.

She hurried to close and lock the window. The cat was nowhere around. She started for the door, which opened. Upon seeing him, she let out a gasp. He was a hideous sight. "Shut up!" he said, thick-tongued. "J ust shut up and don t give me any crud." He was covered with black oil from head to foot. He had tried to rub the mess from his face but only partly succeeded. His hair

was a soggy mat, and

He made

his

soaked clothes clung to his body.

way to the kitchen and began undressing. It was obvious he had wrung himself out the best he could but he was still dripping. From time to time he wiped oil from his forehead his

but some got through to his eyes. "Didja get the money?" she asked. She helped him with his shirt, tellin'

He

and when he didn't answer, continued, "You me what happened, boy?" could scarcely

talk.

figurin'

"Might as well, and take your

on

gaff,

and get it over. But don't give it to me too heavy, or 111 knock you on your keister." He coughed up oil and spat it in the sink. "What a bummer I got.

What

wind and

my

a

bummer.

rain.

What

I

was almost

there, creeping along in the

a night! Couldn't see two feet in front of

was about

and then suddenly, whoosh, I and next thing I knew I was hassling around in a pit of oil. I was choking on it, and couldn't see, and it was pulling me down. Wonder I didn't drown. I kept clawing the sides and got a hand on a rock and hung there. And all the time the rain was coming down like mad, and I was freezing and swallowing great gobs of oil every time I breathed. I kept nose. I

walked

there,

off into nothing,

fumbling and found a root or something and dragged myself out."

She said get

you a

in disgust,

Seein'

Eye

"Next time

I

send you out, I'm goin' to

dog."

131

She dropped to a kitchen chair. He was naked now, and his body heavy with oil. "Get me a towel. She didn't hear. The shock had been slow in coming but finally had settled in. At last she said, "You blew it. Enough to ,,

take care of

what I'm

me

the rest of

goin' to do. Can't

my days.

I ain't so

work much

young.

I don't

know

longer."

30 Cautiously, D.C. picked his

way

along the narrow, wet,

and slippery ledge. By hugging the stucco wall, he was barely able to keep his footing. The storm had passed but his fur was soon soaked by the runoff from the roof, and he hated wet fur. Yet this time he didn't mind. He was no longer a prisoner. He would find his way home, and Patti, Ingrid, and Mike would be on the floor around him, making over him. Nothing in life, not even lizard hunting, brought more happiness than love of family. At the first window, he pawed quietly but persistently. It was securely locked. He had to find an open window, sneak through an apartment, hide, and then shoot out a corridor door when someone opened it. He took a few more steps and discovered a section of the ledge missing. He estimated the distance as one good leap. Maybe a few inches more than one leap. It would be touch and go. He wriggled his fuselage by way of warming up the motor, poised his hind legs, and sprang. His forepaws found solid footing but his back ones scrambled wildly in space before his lurching body vaulted his back end up onto the ledge. He sat a moment, washing a paw, and glanced about to determine if anyone had witnessed this embarrassing incident. Finished with cleaning the paw, which was an old cat ploy

breath—the same as with basketball players who fake a minor injury to gain a moment's rest—he listened for catching one's

132

His folks might be calling him. Patti might even have

intently.

the silent whistle out. But he heard no

A

few

feet farther on, a potted

paw

put one

Then he

sat

out, testing, to learn if

up

to see

if

human

sound.

he could jump over

it,

on that course. With split-second timing, he got

on the

pot's edge,

over the geranium.

and with only a

The backlash

He

geranium blocked him. he could squeeze around

little jet

of the jet

it.

and decided

his front

paws

propulsion, leaped

movement, however,

sent the pot crashing to the ground. Instantly he flattened him-

the wall. Any second he expected to hear people Humans simply went bananas when they heard a crashing. At home once, his tail had accidentally brushed a

self against

screaming.

pot

plant from the kitchen drainboard, and even Patti

He had

never understood why. The yard was

was

filled

furious.

with gera-

niums, and what did one more matter?

Nobody pushed ledge,

the panic button and he continued along the which grew narrower with the curve of the building. He

was passing a window when a drape fluttering in the breeze grazed his tail, which had more sensory equipment than a radar station. He jumped as if set upon by an assassin, and coming down, heard a startled voice inside. "George! George!" the

woman whispered

in

fright.

George

groaned and mumbled. "Somebody s outside the window," she continued.

George aroused himself. "No way. Third No way. Go back to sleep."

floor,

remember?

"Could be a cat burglar." "In this

dump? You

and stumbled

said, "You're right.

face."

He

out of your mind?" Nevertheless, he got

up

window. Returning to bed, he It is a cat burglar. He's out there washing his bed, turned on his side away from her, and

sleepily to the

got into

pulled the covers up.

and kill himself." His wife was more awake than She was organizing the rescue squad.

"He'll fall ever.

133

"Whatcha want me heaven's sake,

I

"But, George,

if

on

"He'll land

never dreamed

Go

do?

to

gotta get

up

in

out and

fall

with him? For

an hour/'

he falls-" all fours.

Cats've got springs General Motors

of/'

George—"

"But,

"My heavens, Maida, if self." He groaned. "I don't

you're worried, go on out there yourget

it."

"You don't get what, George?"

"Why

wives think nothing of sending their poor husbands out

in the cold

and dark

to help cats

burglars, while they stay in a

and dogs

warm

in trouble,

and look

for

bed. Talk about women's

lib!"

"Oh, George, go to sleep!"

From

the apartment window, Bogie got D.C. lined

sights of his .38. His

hands shook

like a drunk's.

up

A man

in the

could

not go through what he had tonight and come out with steady nerves.

hand

He

bet even the blasted cat couldn't.

solidly footed

on the

He

got his

gun

sill.

Behind him Auntie was flapping about. "Boy, are you

listenin'?

you do any

shootin'.

You'll get us into

Cops'll

be

all

one mess of trouble

over the place.

if

You hear me, boy?"

She tried to grab the gun but he was too quick for

her.

He

sent

floor. He still had the gun in hand and by accident or deliberately, straight at her. He was breathing heavily and his face livid. "Don't you ever do that again, you old hellcat. I'm no kid to be knocked around. And don't 'boy' me. I'm sick of you calling me boy. Do this, boy. Do

her sprawling across the pointed, whether

that, boy.

him

out.

of that,

And

right

now

I'm going to

kill

a cat because you let

Somebody's going to recognize him.

Had you

thought

you old hag?"

opened it a teenie weenie bit," she said, "and as I'm and breathin' I never did see no cat go so fast." "Don't you move until I get this job done. You hear me?" He turned back to the window, and again lined D.C. up. He "I only

livin'

*34

it, and squeezed the trigger. The room. "I got him! I got him!" Moving the about bounced roar swiftly, he stuck the .38 under a sofa pillow and headed for the door. "Gotta pick him up before anybody else does. Gotta bury

took a deep breath, held

him."

With

effort,

closing door as

Auntie rose on arthritic joints and stared at the if it

was gone from her grim

were a living-breathing creature. The whine Her eyes hardened and her lips set in a

face.

line.

31

At 6 a.m. Ingrid took a hot shower, doctored her warm bed. She was too keyed up, though, 'Tm too old to cry," she told Patti. "I want to but I'm

wounds, and got into a to sleep.

too old."

They had been convinced that D.C. would be back with them morning and that the ordeal would be ended. They would all three be on the floor and he would purr up a storm. He would stay close to them all day, the way he did when they were gone for any length of time. He would forgo lizards and bird stalking and tracking down the enemy. They would buy him something special, like fresh liver, and he would wolf it down like liver was going out of style. Even Mike was subdued. "I'll make you a double malted," he offered Ingrid. Since she was a half pound overweight, she refused. The scales were her altar. As usual, Zeke came by for breakfast, and Ingrid joined him

this

and

Patti. "I don't think

ing.

As he

talked,

he was running a see

if

I'll

ever be

he cleaned test.

It's

mud

not

warm from

again,"

he

said, shiver-

his fingernails. "I think

uncommon

in kidnappings.

To

you'd show up alone, as he instructed, and to determine

you were being tailed, and to wear you down to a point where you're so shot you're nothing more than a robot."

if

He

talked exclusively to Ingrid. Only occasionally did his

135

eyes

flick to Patti.

inanity, but didn't

He

He

longed to say something to her,

know how

to go about

'The name's

mad at

me," Ingrid told him.

blame him," Mike

"I don't

sister/'

Patti," Patti said.

"Greg's awfully

said.

Ingrid ignored him. "I don't think

a

only an

continued, to Ingrid, "He'll call Greg with instructions,

probably today, or you or your

to

if

it.

me again—and we've been little girl

ever speak

he'll ever, ever,

pals for years

and

years, since I

and went over one day, and picked

his roses,

was and

gave them to him."

"You did exactly

right,"

Zeke reassured her.

talk with

"I'll

Greg."

"Let me," Mike said. "I

know how

to

handle him. He's a very

complex person."

what you

"Is that

him?" Patti put

call

him some-

in. "I'd call

thing else." "I don't "I'll

talk to

want anybody him myself."

talking to

him

for me," Ingrid said.

Mike smirked. "Sure, why not? You're in love with him." "Why don't you go play on the freeway?" Zeke attacked the bacon and eggs. "You know, in kidnappings

we

often

demand proof

the victim

to think out the investigative steps

of this nature.

"We

is alive."

He

took a

moment

pursued in the average crime

take some incident in his

life.

Where was

Aunt Gertrude's funeral held? Something only the victim would know. If the subject comes back with the right answer— after asking his prisoner— then

we know

the victim's alive.

We

can't

ask the subject to talk with a cat, of course, but—" Patti broke in.

"Why

not? Not the criminal—but

we

could.

Over the phone." For the first time he gazed at her. Longingly. His voice was soft and considerate. "Patti"—he had rarely used her name since their "misunderstanding"— "I don't know how to say it but—" "You'd better not, Zeke," Ingrid warned. Patti said,

136

"I'll

arrange it—if the criminal calls me.

The FBI

may be what

it

the greatest investigative organization in the

knows about

Zeke took

much

cats wouldn't

his eyes

away.

fill

world— but

a pea pod."

"I admit,"

he

said,

"we haven't had

experience."

Ingrid was in the kitchen by herself the back door.

Web

when

she heard the tap on

stood there, looking disconsolate.

"Hi," she said.

"You

all

"Guess

Come on

right?"

Ache

so.

"Can t. Mom's "The man

"He

all

over. Feel like I'd

sick.

He

by a porcupine.

faked out."

was worried about you. Got

did! Gosh, I'm sorry. I

I'll

walk

you ought

to walk.

to

For Muscular Dys-

for you."

She put her arms around him. "You trying "I

hit

Where's old D.C.?"

didn't come.

thinking, I don't think

trophy.

been

in."

to

make me

cry?"

was awful worried."

"I'm glad."

know

"Yeah, I don't

me

another

girl

who

has a sister who'd

make

pizzas."

"You're terrible." "I

was worried."

"Yeah, sister

Web,

I

know. You don't know another

who'd make you

"No. Well,

I

She smiled.

got to get back to "I

girl

who

has a

pizzas."

mom. See you

anon."

can hardly wait for anon."

At the FBI office, the red-headed, tight-skirted receptionist informed Zeke that Supervisor Newton wanted to see him. Zeke had phoned Newton after returning home from the oil field to

him about the night's events. Or rather, non-events. "A dry run, huh?" Newton said. "You don't think he spotted

brief

you?"

"Not a chance.

If

you could' ve seen us

slithering

around in the 137

mud,

like snakes

effort to

.

.

remove the a

"I got

continued.

"Who's

."

He

twisted his shoulders and neck in an

kinks.

call right after

"He was about

to

yours from

blow

Ed

Hawkins," Newton

his top."

Ed Hawkins?"

"I thought you knew him. At the Los Angeles Mirror. He's got more growl than a bear. Dictate your report and then see if you

can get

The

his

blood pressure down."

report took an hour. Zeke dictated smoothly and tersely,

and organized

his material well as

he went.

He

liked the con-

mind from the one pressed on his mind day and

centration the report required. It took his

completely unsolvable case that night: Patti Randall.

Ed Hawkins

proved a

big,

rawboned, sagging-shouldered,

bushy-browed individual who resembled a stevedore more than a managing editor. He had a short fuse. The second Zeke identified himself,

he rose to his

feet,

kicked the chair back, and

"Huh! So Newton was too scared to come?" His voice doubled in volume. ''We've got an agreement with you people— and you've broken your word. It's always a one-way road with

started.

the FBI.

We do you a favor but to hell with us."

did.

know what you're talking about," Zeke said Newton had thoroughly briefed him. Somehow,

had

to

"I don't

quietly.

He

though, he

calm the bear, a feat the bear's reporters seldom succeeded in doing. "Could we sit down?"

Hawkins remained standing. "The kidnapping. And don't tell got one because we know you have. The FBI got us to promise six months ago we wouldn't break a snatch story until it was over and the victim returned safely— and you prom-

me you haven't

ised—you promised"—his blood pressure rose—"you'd keep us posted along with the other Los Angeles papers on every development, hour by hour, so

when

the victim was safely back home,

we could break the story with a full account in the next edition." An agreement of this nature was routine in kidnapping cases— to protect the party abducted.

138

Even

if

reporters

dug up the

story

on their own, which was volved, the kidnapper

fairly

easy with so

was inclined

many people

in-

to believe the victim's family

had talked with the FBI or police. The victim's life depended in cases on the strictest secrecy being maintained by the newspapers as well as the family and authorities. Hawkins continued angrily, "And then last night—last night— you double-crossed us." Zeke looked him straight in the eyes. "It wasn't, Mr. Hawkins, what you'd call a legitimate kidnapping. It was a— well, you won't believe it— but someone snatched a cat and is holding him

many

for ransom."

"One

of the rock stars?"

"No, no, a regular

Hawkins stared size?"

"A

He

You know, the kind that goes meow." frank disbelief. "A little cat? About this

cat.

in

demonstrated with his hands. bigger."

little

"You're trying to snucker me." "It's

the gospel truth." Zeke synopsized the case to date.

stressed the danger to the Randall family

break the

story.

Not only might such a

if

He

a newspaper should

story result in the death of

the cat but possibly in the death of one or both of the Randall girls.

Hawkins dropped his weight into the chair, which groaned and bounced. "I've been in this business twenty-eight years— " and heard some weird ones—but never in twenty-eight years Zeke nodded. "Yeah. I feel the same. But in view of the danger .

to the Randall girls—forget the

cat— you will hold

.

this in con-

fidence?"

Hawkins blew out a pent-up breath. "Not a word. Not even

my

wife.

She

isn't

too sure of

my

sanity as

it

is.

I

to

might get

committed to Camarillo." Zeke got up to

go. "Wait,"

Hawkins said

sharply. "I

want

your promise, when you get the victim back—that's what you called

the

cat,

wasn't it?— the

victim—craziest thing

heard—when you get him back, phone me immediately.

ever

I

I

can *39

see the headline—Cat

Ransomed

for $300,000/ We'll all go to

Camarillo together/'

Shortly after Zeke returned to the

routed a

call

office,

the switchboard

through to him. The party identified himself as the

superintendent of the Sampson Oil Field.

know whether this has any connection with your he began. The night before, agents had contacted him

don't

"I

case,"

to ask the location of No.

34 and to advise they would be operat-

ing on the property.

He of

continued, "Approximately three hundred yards northwest

Number

Thirty-four

we have an

oil

We rarely

sump.

get these

sumps in this kind of field but sometimes a pressure forces the oil up close to ground level. We covered it over some time ago but it was open last night. Some men had been working there and forgot to replace the cover. Well, someone fell in during the night/'

The superintendent met Zeke

at the gate in a jeep.

"We

better take the jeep," he told Zeke.

"We'd

don't have a road in

here."

For a half mile they bounced over rugged them, the of of

muck

pumps worked

ground

The sump was an

busily.

several feet across.

terrain. All

The

around

irregular pool

goo rose to within two feet

oily

level.

"He got out over a rain-washed

trail

there," said the superintendent.

of oily footprints

sump north toward a nearby country

He

indicated

away from the "And over here," he

leading

road.

continued as they walked toward a gate in the chain-link fence,

"someone forced the padlock. Had because

open

it's

this

a good, strong one.

to

One

know what he was doing, men found the gate

of our

morning."

Outside, just beyond the gate, were deep ruts in the soil

and numerous

footprints.

"He

muddy

shouldn't' ve pulled off the

road," the superintendent added. "Almost got stuck."

Zeke nodded. 140

He

observed that the subject wore about a size

worn along the outer back edge. movement. A lab technician would return later to photograph the prints and car tracks and make plaster of Paris casts. Zeke took a mental note: the subject would have difficulty in cleaning up both himself and his car. If he were apprehended eight shoe with heels well

Hence, he walked "on

his heels" in a falling-backward

soon, he might have oil residue nails or

between the

on

toes. Oil, to,

around the would have seeped into the

his feet, possibly

cracks and texture of the car's floorboard.

"He mustve been a sight," the superintendent remarked. "We think he was carrying a cat. Probably in a carrier." The superintendent shot him a quick glance. "A cat? Sounds like voodoo. Was this guy from Haiti? I worked there years ago."

"Any way to drag the sump?" know." The superintendent backed up a few

Zeke shook "I don't

Drag a sump

his head.

for a cat?

"I'll

have

As he drove back to the

to

office,

feet.

check on that."

Zeke experienced a surge

of

The chances were D.C. was dead and the death of any living thing shook him up. He remembered his first: a little mustang that had been his pal from the time he was ten until seventeen. He had fed and curried her, and when the world was dead set against him, ridden her up into Old Man's Canyon to follow the trails they had known together. sadness.

32

The sand was wet and cold, but the sun, a few hours up, was begirming to dry out the world below. The ocean was back to its

norm, the breakers rolling in easily but nervously and the

crests in their usual state of frenzy.

humans, floated

lazily

The

gulls, utterly oblivious to

except for an occasional swoop and dive.

Bogie rocked back on

his

haunches, binoculars to his eyes.

scanned the beach in sweeps, then narrowed his

and studied

it

in

more

detail.

He

field of vision

Already the musclemen were 141

working

out, building circus pyramids,

doing cartwheels, practic-

ing karate, and taking ordinary body exercises. Not far old

man walked

head bent low, looking

slowly,

for

away an money or

Now

valuables the beach crowd the day before might have

lost.

and then he would stoop

over, and,

usually, toss

it

to pick

into the ocean.

up an

A

article,

look

it

half mile distant,

a

young

couple walked hand-in-hand. Both were in heavy jackets and

Approaching them were two young men jogging along

pants.

near the tide

line.

Bogie put the binoculars down. scotch.

He He

He

badly needed a slug of

never had been so depressed. Everything had gone

and smelled the oil. It was a wonder he was not dead. Even now he could feel the heavy pull of it in the pit. Someone should be prosecuted. When he had collected the ransom, he would have Auntie put in an anonymous phone call to the proper authorities and demand the arrest of the person wrong.

still

tasted

responsible for such a death trap.

And

then, after that nightmare, another one with the cat.

had had the animal dead

when

hit,

in his sights.

He had

He

seen him jump

When he went to locate the body, it. He had searched in the area around an hour. A curious, runny-nosed, little

then disappear.

though, he failed to find the carrousel for nearly

kid had asked him what he was doing, and

when Bogie

told

him, the youngster said he had seen a black cat wandering

about on the beach. Apparently the cat had vanished from the ledge into an apartment. It

turned out that

it

was

because when he put in a

just as well

call to the

he had not killed the

cat,

go-between, Greg Baiter, he

had encountered an unexpected complication. At Auntie's suggestion, he had taken a stern approach with that young pipsqueak of an ambulance chaser. He had told him flatly that the reason he— Bogie—had not shown up for the rendezvous was because he had spotted police officers at the scene. They had set a trap for him, he said, and he was of a notion to kill the Randall girls and forget the money. He was an honorable man and had played fair but they had broken their word. They 142

wanted

to

hang him, and why should he deal with them? Baiter

swore that Ingrid alone had gone to No. 34, and said he had stood in the phone booth for hours while the rain came down in sheets. Baiter got

tough and, somehow or other, seized the

in-

and Bogie found himself on the defensive. Baiter refused up another date and place for payment of the ransom until

itiative,

to set

Bogie put D.C. on the phone to Patti Randall.

At

this point, Bogie's

the phone? At finger in

extracted

first

thoughts seemed to fog up. Put a cat on

he believed he had misheard.

one ear and vigorously shook the it,

He

finger.

put a

little

But when he

he got the same reception. The Randalls absolutely

refused to deliver the

money

until

he called them and placed

D.C. on the phone. Patti Randall would talk with the

cat. That was just about the craziest thing he had ever heard. That broad had bats in her belfry. However, there seemed nothing to do but

to play along.

He

told the go-between

he would humor Miss

He would telephone the Randall home before noon and put the cat on the line. He was not guaranteeing, however,

Randall.

would talk. This cat, he informed the go-between, was one of the meanest creatures that had ever drawn breath. that the cat

Surprisingly enough, the go-between agreed, for a loop.

He was

instantly suspicious.

which threw Bogie

Something was going on

naked ear did not catch. So now he had to track down and trap the cat he had thought he had killed. He realized he had committed a horrible mistake

that the

grabbing the cat. He should have kidnapped some wealthy old geezer. He would have been far easier to handle. At least everyone would have acted sensibly and with in the first place in

honor.

Bogie went back to surveying the beach with the binoculars.

He had

pulled his field of vision to within a quarter mile

when

young couple. They were sitting on a blanket eating breakfast from a sack, and something small and black was alongside the girl. It did not move. A purse, perhaps. But the outline was not that of a purse. The girl the glasses again encircled the

reached into the sack, took something out, and held

it

up a

foot

H3

or so above the black object, which

and

it

now

did move.

It

was a

cat

sat up.

Bogie broke into a run. The sand grabbed his shoes and slowed him. He slipped a foot for every two feet he gained.

D.C. was wolfing the meat from a sandwich when Bogie appeared.

He grabbed up what he had

refuge behind the

Bogie smiled. "That's this

morning and

not eaten and took

girl.

I've

my

cat.

He

got out of the apartment

been looking everywhere for him."

D.C. poked his head around the

"You sure

he's

"Yeah, I'd

know him anywhere."

girl's

your cat?" asked the

hip and hissed.

girl.

D.C. hissed again.

"He

doesn't

seem

to

know

you," said the boy.

Bogie tried for a laugh. "Little game

he wants

to play

it,

I

we

play.

He

runs

when

chase him, and sometimes he spits and

." He shot a little guy hand down for him, hoping to grab him behind the ears, but D.C. was too quick. No swordsman ever slashed with deadlier skill. Having drawn a copious quantity of blood, D.C. took off. Bogie laughed through clenched teeth, wrapped a handkerchief around the wound, and without further words took off. D.C. streaked for a black and white kiosk a short distance away and disappeared through a crawl hole beneath the structure, which was built two feet above ground. Bogie got down on his hands and knees but kept his distance. His experience in

sometimes he wants to wrestle. Here,

having lived with stick his

this cat for several

nose inside the crawl hole.

back, though, he could not discern ness.

He

.

.

days dictated he should not

From a distance of two feet any movement in the dark-

straightened up, and looked about, hoping for inspira-

was closed, but even if it had been open he would have had no idea how to capture this wild animal that would love nothing better than

tion,

to

divine or otherwise. At this hour, the kiosk

amputate an arm.

He was 144

sitting

on

his

aching haunches

when he became

aware of an enormous figure of a man towering over him.

When

he glanced up, he was seized with something very close to a massive coronary. His eyes crawled from the bulging holster,

up the uniform,

to the craggy, merciless face

blue eyes. Clumsily, Bogie got to his feet.

"My

cat."

The

He

"My

and hard,

cat,"

cold,

he sputtered.

indicated the crawl hole.

officer

nodded, said nothing, and waited for Bogie to

rescue his cat. Bogie stood paralyzed.

He knew

exactly

how

Lot's

was turned to salt. It was a question of risking an amputation of a hand or arm, or arousing a suspicion that might ultimately wreck everything. D.C. saved him from making a decision. He shot forth, skirted around him and the officer, and streaked down the beach. He veered right and climbed an embankment of sand covered with

wife

felt

those minutes before she

clumps of ragged, starving weeds.

Two

now

motivated Bogie. The

was to capture D.C, and the second, to escape the law. The two melded, and he broke out of his petrifaction and took off after the cat. Climbing the embankment, he looked back. The officer stood watching. At the top of the embankment was a busy highway with desires

first

thundering herds racing in each direction. Oblivious to the

danger—perhaps relying on the well-documented fact that each more lives— D.C. braved the stampedes. He brought cars to a halt with tires screeching, horns honking, and

cat has nine or

drivers shouting.

Behind him came Bogie,

pandemonium but more and should know better.

of the

same

stirring

since

up the same

he was two-legged

Across the street, a little old lady watched over glasses set low on her nose. She had bright blue-jay eyes, a perk hat that sat high on piled-up hair, and Goodwill clothes. With unexpected sprightliness, she

bent low and scooped up a very surprised

D.C. Before she had straightened, she had her scarf wrapped around him, which foreclosed the possibility of gymnastics on his part. D.C. protested loudly, then sensing he had stumbled

on a

friend, softened his outcry.

145

Bogie was panting and his eyes threatened to pop out.

was

cat." It

all

"The very dear,

little

"My

he could manage.

idea," she said, scolding, "permitting this sweet,

cat to run loose. You're a lucky

young man that he

wasn't killed."

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am." D.C., too, agreed. "We must look after our dear, furry, little said an

amen

creatures." D.C.

to that. "They're so helpless."

"Yes, ma'am."

He wondered how he was He remembered he had

home.

helpless savage

going to get

this

started out with a

carrier.

"Don't you have anything to carry him

in,

young man?"

"No, ma'am."

"You must never carry a cat in your arms when you're around automobiles. How would you feel if herds of elephants were racing all around you." He had a good notion to tell her he'd prefer the elephants to this cat.

She continued, petting D.C. and talking

him. "He has

to

suffered a serious traumatic shock."

He has,

What about me?

Bogie thought.

"You'd better take him to the doctor.

He may need

a tranquil-

izer."

Well both

get one.

"Are you a Christian, young man?" "No, ma'am.

I

mean,

"I don't like to see

yes,

ma'am,

I

guess so."

God's creatures in heathen homes. His peo-

ple should look after them." D.C. said another amen. "Yes,

return

ma'am. Could it

away?

right

borrow your

I

I live just

stole,

ma'am,

over there."

curved building about the merry-go-round. your address "I'll

He

promise to

indicated the

me

"If

you'd give

my

way. Not when

." .

.

come with you.

.

.

.

No,

the welfare of one of our furry

you have a wife?" "An aunt." 146

if I

it isn't

little

out of

creatures

is

concerned.

Do

I'll want to see your litter box and scratching what you're feeding him. A good scratching post is

"Very good. post and

very important to a

cat's

psyche."

33

and Patti day she had missed in three years. Restless, she straightened books and magazines and gewgaws, dusted absent-mindedly, and stared out the windows. Greg left for work in the sports car that had the look of a woman just out of the hairdresser's. Mrs. Macdougall emptied the rain cans into a big container that she wheeled about on a dolly. She had a weapon stuck in her blouse. Zeke had predicted she would one day blow off a nipple. Wilbur emerged from the front door and headed down the street. Mrs. Macdougall yelled at him but he had gone off the air. He seldom

Mike went

to school, Ingrid

back

telephoned the shop to report she was

ill.

bothered these days with the hearing

aid.

world.

"Same

he had told

It

to bed,

was the

He

first

preferred a silent

wrong with people as with the flickers," "They talk too much about how sick we all

thing's

Patti.

are.

At the sound of the doorbell her hands froze

in the

bathroom

washbasin she was cleaning. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to the door.

Greg stepped

in court in fifteen minutes.

He me at

battery."

into the living room. "I'm

due

Rogers versus Adams. Assault and

took a second to catch his breath. "The kidnapper

the office and I rushed right out. Not for the cat. I him he could hang the cat for all I cared— and it shook him up. He didn't know what to say to that. You can put yourself in his place. What if you had a victim nobody wanted? But of course you can't put yourself in his place because you don't feel like the rest of us neighbors. But as I was saying, I rushed right out, not for the cat, but for you—" called

told

"Greg, for heaven's sake, what'd he say?" "Said he saw cops last night and accused you and Inky of

147

him

trying to lure

Told him

so.

into a trap. I didn't believe

was torturing you. Told him go-between

me

backtracking and assured

work

out.

Then

I told

told

him

couldn't continue to serve as the his promises,

idiot.

and he did some would

the next time everything

him you wanted

a complete

cat. I felt like

I

he didn't keep

if

him and

think he intended to keep the date and

I didn't

What

to talk

with the blasted

kind of an attorney would

dicker with a kidnapper for his client to talk with a cat?" "Please, Greg, what'd

he say?"

took him by surprise, same as

would anyone with an ounce of sense. He balked. Said I was crazy— and I agreed. But I told him, crazy or not, you wouldn't pay the ransom until you knew the cat was alive. I got tough and he finally agreed and said for you to stand by. I told him to put the cat on the phone "It

before noon.

My

it

me

heavens, you've got

doing

Acting like

it.

common thing in the world to talk to a cat." me here?" He nodded. "Said he didn't know if he could make it by noon. could tell he's got a problem." He smiled. "Maybe the cat

it's

the most

"He'll call

I

want to She dropped

doesn't

talk to you." to the

arm

some

of an easy chair. "We've said

unkind things to each other, Greg, but

I

want you

to

know

I

appreciate what you're doing." "All I ask

from you,

Blitzy.

is

But

when you

"It's

a

that I

you keep your cat out

of

my

yard and away

guess you'll be taking the cat with you, won't

get married?"

little indefinite."

"Taking the cat— or getting married?" "I don't

know. I'm so upset."

"Thank God you've

still

jealous because I lost

my

got time to call

out— because

I

change your mind. so, if

understand 148

I

you want

how

not that I'm

haven't a jealous bone in

body. But he simply doesn't match up to you,

works out when unequals marry. I'm

you

it off. It's

still

around

Parti. It if

you want

won't embarrass you by telling you to

come

back.

I'll

forgive

never

I

to

told

you because

I

a girl can be swept off her feet by the glamor

of the

FBI— saving

that jazz.

Think

the country from spies and terrorists and

it

over.

As your husband

I'd

all

be home every

night with you instead of chasing goodness-knows-what, and telling

you

you where

it's

and top

national security

I've

secret,

been or with whom. Well,

your talk with the cat comes out and

and

let

I can't tell

me know how

can do anything."

if I

"Thank you, Greg." "Tell Inky I've forgiven her.

down with

probably come

I'll

pneumonia from standing half the night in a phone booth in a cloudburst. I just hope she never has to get a taxi on a rainy night."

"She loves you, Greg.

good

It's

have an older person around to "I love her, too."

to

commit

assault

He

glanced at his watch. "The judge

me

Shortly afterward, Zeke phoned, "I

may have bad

and

is

going

don't get going."

if I

Patti took the call.

news," he said gently. sorry,

to

talk to."

and battery on

words said he was

someone growing up

for

The way he spoke

the

he loved her, and wished he could do

something. "I don't know, but

I

thought

Inky what's happened. The subject

I

should

tell

you and

sump last night on his way to meet Inky, and if he had D.C. with him in a carrier We're having the sump dragged. We'll know soon." Her heart seemed to quit. "But Greg talked with the kidnap.

.

fell

into

an

oil

.

per only about an hour ago," she said slowly, searching for hope, "and said he'd put D.C. on the phone today." She added,

"Greg did say the kidnapper sounded as

A

if

he had a problem."

problem? Probably he was out hunting for another cat to

substitute for D.C.

D.C.'s voice, the

But he could not deceive them. They knew

same

as

they

knew

their

father's,

or

each

other's.

At exactly noon, the

shrill

ringing of the telephone brought

Ingrid instantly awake, and she went flopping in her slippers to the kitchen,

where

Patti held the receiver with the

palm

of one

149

hand over

it.

She

sat there immobile,

waiting until she had

gained her composure. Only then did she say hello. "Patti?"

She did not know

how

a

man

could put such a threat of

violence into one word. "Yes."

"How're

ya, sweetheart?"

momentarily threw her

His brazenness hausted.

How'd you expect me

off

balance.

"Ex-

to be?"

"Don't you get smart with mel"

She allowed herself a dash of anger. "What d'you mean keeping

my

sister

out in a cloudburst for hours?" Ingrid, listening

had her cheek against as

if

to see the

Pattfs.

in,

She stared intently into the phone

man.

"She brought the cops with her." "That's a lie— and

between— on your

you know

instructions.

it.

She even ditched the go-

You got our

cat there

by the

phone?"

"Yeah—right

here.

Go

ahead. Say something."

He

laughed

uproariously.

"Put him close enough to the receiver to hear

dont hold him— and get

off

want

to hear

what

"Put the receiver "It's

voice— and

the line."

"Okay, he hears you. He's got his ears up. I

my

he's got to

down by

say— and

it'd

Go ahead and

talk.

better be good."

his feet."

down."

Patti spoke softly. "D.C.

D.C.

It's

Patti,

D.C." She whistled

softly.

grew big. He looked about, checking. That was his girl talking. But where was she? He put his nose to the receiver. He touched it then with a paw. "Sit up, D.C. Sit up and shake hands. Sit up." He looked at Bogie and Auntie, and all around the room. His girl was somewhere close. But why didn't she come out where he could see her, and pet him? Again, her voice came out of the receiver, and again he touched it gently with one paw. D.C.'s eyes

*5°

D.C.

"Sit up,

Sit up."

Obediently he sat up, his back ramrod

paw toward the receiver. As he

his right

straight.

did

so,

He

stuck out

he meowed.

His voice came over clearly. Ingrid's eyes

filled

with

tears.

He was alive, thank God. He was all right. When he was little, Parti had taught him to sit up for his food and shake hands. On his own he had figured he should meow also when asking for his dinner. Not a loud meow but in about the same tone a child used in saying "Please." Every night he

went through the ritual in front of the refrigerator, whence came all the good things of life. At times his expression seemed to reflect an opinion that this was a rather silly routine, but if it pleased his humans, then he would humor them. Early in his young adulthood, though, Patti discovered that he would not sit

up when any

of his cat friends

dropped

in.

He was

not

about to besmirch his image as the General Patton of the neighborhood. Patti

dropped the phone back

back the alive.

tears. All that

into

its

cradle.

She fought

she could think about was that he was

Apparently, too, he was well, judging from the vibrancy

in his voice.

now relief

She had prepared herself to accept his death.

And

surged through her.

She had forgotten

to ask instructions

about the delivery of the

ransom, or that Zeke had requested her to keep the phone line

open

as long as possible to give the telephone

to trace the call.

company time

She had forgotten there would be a tomorrow.

34

"You ve got another one," the receptionist said

when he returned from

He

to

Zeke

lunch. "Over there."

turned to find a thin, long-haired boy of about ten with

headlight eyes and a mouthful of bands. to his shirt front as

if

never to

let go.

A

small black cat clung

Zeke groaned inwardly.

The Wanted— Information

flyer had drawn several hundred and a steady run of small fry bearing black cats. "Hello, son," Zeke said. The boy stared and the cat flattened himself even flatter.

phone

calls

"Thanks for coming looking for

is

in,"

Zeke continued, "but the cat we're

considerably larger."

The boy nodded and got up to go. "Is he a stray?" asked Zeke. The boy nodded again. "You re sure he's a stray? Not a neighbor's cat?"

The boy

shifted uneasily. "Put

him back

right

where you got

him," Zeke said. "That's an order— from the FBI. If you don't, you'll

be guilty of cat

The boy looked

stealing,

terrified,

which is a very

serious crime."

and without a word backed up

he struck the door, then backed through

it,

until

never taking his

eyes from Zeke.

"Cat stealing!" said the receptionist. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Scaring a "If I don't scare

little

boy."

them," he said, "I'm going to be responsible

for the biggest shift in cat population in this city in all history."

He was

catching

it

from everyone. The

SPCA had

telephoned

the director in Washington to report that no black cat was safe in

Los Angeles, with or without white whiskers.

by two

Zeke's dismal spirits were lifted shortly, though,

opments. at the

New

devel-

York Field advised that four parties interviewed

Wall Street brokerage house from which the

been stolen had

identified the subject as

securities

had

Harry Bogart when

shown the sketch drawn by the Los Angeles Police Department artist. They had chosen the No. 2 frontal view as the best likeness. They described the subject as about five feet five; weight, approximately 150 pounds; eyes, brown; hair, a dark brown; build, athletic with squared-off shoulders; distinguishing marks, a

small scar on his chin, right of center; special interests, drag racing, anything to

good although to himself

*52

do with

cars.

his superior said

His employment record was

he was a "smart

alec."

He

kept

but showed unusual interest in the operations of the

brokerage house and Wall Street in general, which his employers at the time

thought was commendable.

The home address he gave

the firm's personnel department

turned out to be nonexistent, and investigation to date by

York Field to locate

his

New

former domicile had proven negative.

The second development broke about midafternoon when Los Angeles agents checking typewriter rental and sales firms reported that the James King Office Equipment

Company

in

Manhattan Beach had rented the typewriter in question to one Harry Bogart exactly three weeks ago to this day. The company

was not

in the rental business but

when Bogart

said he

was

had agreed The salesman recognized Bogart

interested in buying the typewriter, the salesman let

him

"take

it

out to

try."

to at

one glance when shown the drawing. Mother, pin a rose on old Mrs. Macdougall, Zeke thought.

He had

considered her scatterbrained but in a time of terror she

had photographed the subject sharply enough

in her

mind

to

give the artist a remarkably accurate description.

Working

rapidly,

Zeke arranged with Newton to dispatch

agents with copies of the sketch to Manhattan Beach and the

nearby beach communities where they were to though, that no copies were to be posted.

nished to

officers

only for their

recognize the subject

were they

lance,

He

They were

warned,

to

be

fur-

personal use— so they would

they saw him or stopped him for a

Under no circumstances, howapprehend him. They were to run a surveil-

or other minor violation.

traffic

ever,

if

own

help of

enlist the

the police and other law enforcement agencies.

if

to

possible, until

such time as they could notify the FBI.

Since the subject had indicated in the tape—which referred to

"we"—that he was working with

at least

one other party, Zeke

feared an arrest of the subject might lead to frightening reprisals.

His accomplice or accomplices might wreak revenge

on Parti or Ingrid.

He lion,

felt elated.

Out

of an area with a population of seven mil-

including Los Angeles' satellite

had narrowed the geography

to a

cities,

the two developments

few beach communities. 153

35 Parking his car alongside the closed supermarket, Bogie got out, stretched, and casually cased the deserted parking

The time was

lot.

and once again, he was in high spirits. As he unlocked the trunk and took out the beaten-up, old-fashioned satchel, he smiled broadly. This was an inspiration. What a brilliant idea. But then he was filled with them. He headed for the same phone booth from which he had placed the first call to the Randall home. It was his lucky booth. Not that he was superstitious, but if you had something going for you, keep it going, he always said.

A

11 p.m.,

quarter million dollars.

He would

But he was

would be off.

No

before

quarter million

all for

himself.

More than know why he should cut her

give Auntie $50,000 out of the $300,000.

the old hellcat deserved. in.

A

like that.

He

didn't

Generous to a

This

fault, big-hearted.

He figured he would just wander He had hoped she would pop off

their last job together.

reason for a big scene. this,

but she was one of those wiry dames

who would

live

forever.

In the booth, he dialed a taxi company.

A

man's voice said a

cab would be there in a few minutes. Waiting, he stood in the shadows of the supermarket, whistling softly. He took a mustache

from

and stuck it on. He certain he had it on straight. Next

his pocket, peeled off the backing,

took pains with

it,

making

he slipped on a pair of large sun

down at the

satchel,

some broad,

that Randall kid.

glasses. Occasionally

he glanced

and every time burst into a low laugh. A quarter million. First, he would have some fun with the young Randall girl. He would give her $5,000 if she was nice to him and for five grand she would be. Wow, if anyone had offered him five thou when he was seventeen he would have knocked off the President if they had wanted him to. That was

*54

He

really

went

for her.

But not

for

her older skeleton.

Too

thin.

liked a

little

sister.

He

Hugging her would be like hugging a meat on them. Something to get hold

of.

Once he had the money, and had given Auntie her $50,000 and kissed her off, he would box the quarter million and mail it

Las Vegas.

to himself in care of General Delivery,

If

the cops

stopped him then for speeding, or anything, he would be in the clear.

He would

just

keep mailing the money to himself from

one place to another as he traveled around. Never have

it

on him.

Smart, huh? Always thinking. Far ahead. Most guys didn't and

ended

in the jug.

In Las Vegas he would round up four or five sheiks

had the

but four or

A

right idea.

One

harem.

girl

girls.

Those old

could be a bore,

wow! So help him, though, he would not

five,

take

a drink. That was the price one had to pay for success. If he drank, he talked.

No

sir,

no hard

Perhaps a

liquor.

Some

pagne, the best vintage they had.

little

cham-

of that $ioo-a-bottle

stuff.

The

parking

taxi rolled into the

driver looking around. Bogie satchel in the front seat

the Randall home. "Look,

The

driver interrupted.

lot,

and he could see the

waved and walked

over.

He

put the

and handed the driver the address of

Mac—" he

started.

"You an actor?"

Mystified, Bogie shook his head.

The

driver continued,

"The name's not Mac. Only

jerks in

the movies call cabbies Mac."

Bogie did a slow burn.

it

It

would be

He

let it pass.

"Drop the

by the

front door.

You

guy.

He handed him The

a $20

don't

his luck to

draw a wise Leave you want to."

satchel off at that address.

need

to

knock unless

bill.

driver looked at the case suspiciously. "What's in it?"

"Nothing much. Just a joke I'm playing on a friend." "Like one of them

"You think

I

bombs

I

been reading about?"

look like a guy running around blowing

up

people?"

155

The I

driver took another look at the satchel. "I dunno, mister.

could get in a

lot of trouble."

Bogie unlocked the case.

The

"It's

a joke,

I tell

you."

driver looked in. "Great Jehoshaphat!" he said, jerking his

eyes away. "Great Jehoshaphat!"

not knocking. No,

sir,

He

pocketed the $20

bill.

"I'm

I'm not knocking."

"I told you, just leave it."

"And

get the hell out."

Bogie continued laughing.

good

in a long time.

with a screwball.

He

The

He

didn't

up one this was doing business

hadn't dreamed

driver thought he

know he was

dealing with a brilliant

financier.

Neither Patti nor Ingrid could sleep. They had discussed taking

when and if when they heard

a tranquilizer but each wanted to be clearheaded the kidnapper called. Both the car sidle

up

to the curb.

came

A

bolt upright

door slammed, and seconds

later,

another door, then footsteps hurried up the concrete walk. They tensed, anticipating a knock. Something

was being put down;

something touched the front door. Then someone was running

back up the walk.

By

Patti floundered out of bed, pulling half the

the time she got to the front window, a shadowy

covers

off.

figure

was jumping

into the driver's seat of a

car— a taxi— and

the motor, unduly accelerated, roared almost immediately. She

made out

the taxi company's

vehicle shot forward

name a

and disappeared

Ingrid had joined her.

"It's

scant second before the

into the night.

a taxi— and someone's got to be

out there by the front door. Just the driver got back "I only

heard one

They moved

in."

set of footsteps," Patti said.

cautiously

and

softly

about in the dark, and at

the front door stood rigidly for several minutes, listening.

went from room to room looking out of windows. prowling around out there," Patti

and have him under

surveillance."

said,

156

we

got a package."

"If anyone's

"the agents

know

it

Zeke had doubled the number

of agents watching the house this night. "I think out. I think

They

it's

safe to go

Opening the door

tentatively,

prepared to scream

stood there, they spotted the satchel. Ingrid brought in the world?" Patti said. "It's heavy," Ingrid

anyone

if

it in.

"What

commented.

Afterward they realized they never should have opened a

bag that conceivably could have contained an explosive. But there was a tag tied to the handle that motivated them. The traveling

tag read: instructions inside.

Ingrid struggled with the catch, and suddenly the case opened

wide. Only a second elapsed before she screamed. "He's dead! D.C.'s dead!

They

killed him!"

She dropped to the sofa and cried uncontrollably. Patti, who had averted her eyes at the first glance inside the case, dropped beside Ingrid. Patti fought to control herself, her arms about her sister.

Mike came tearing

in,

sleepy-eyed.

grabbed him before he reached

The man

He's dead.

Mike broke

to

the case but Patti It's

Mike, don't!"

loose. Patti shouted, "Please,

sight of D.C. in death. little

He saw

"Don't look, Mike.

D.C.

killed him."

He would

too young.

it.

He was

memory the would they. Age had

never be able to erase from

Nor

for that matter,

do with death memories.

Crying, Mike reached in and ran his

hand over the soft, black "Good old D.C," he whispered, sobbing. The door opened, and a strange man in his late twenties barged in. He wore an old corduroy jacket, dark slacks, and a fur.

lumberjack

shirt.

"I'm your

new

neighbor," he said quietly. His

arm dangled and he had his FBI credential in the palm of his hand. Once Patti had noticed, he returned the billfold-like credential to a jacket pocket. It had been almost sleight of hand. right

Patti clenched her

D.C— and sent

fists

to control herself.

a cab to deliver his

case.

"He

name

of the taxicab

left it at

body

"The kidnapper

to us."

She indicated the

the front door and then took

company but not the

"We did," he said. He touched Mike on

license

the shoulder. "Please

killed

sit

off. I

got the

number." over there with

157

your

sisters."

He

the satchel and

got its

down on

his

hands and knees and examined

contents. "Oh, God," he said softly.

He

then

spotted the tag on the handle: instructions inside. Exploring,

he ran

and located a note

tied to the

paw. The message had been typed

in capital

hands about the

his

cat's right front

insides,

letters.

He

read

"see

it

how

to himself, then aloud:

easy

it

is.

took

me only a

minute, meet you at

seven tonight, ingrid dear. AT SLX-THIRTY

I

will let you

know

we well meet and i will give you your cat d7 you don't rrtng the police or try tricks, if you do, he will be as dead as this cat—and so will you and your sister." where. at seven

36

That morning ing. Patti

at the breakfast table,

and Ingrid were

fast disintegrating.

were slow, and the conversation a weight intelligent;

they

knew

that the

plot tangent in Bogie's

They knew

all this,

dead cat

campaign

Zeke took reckonTheir movements

They were was only one more

to carry.

to torture

and destroy them.

and yet the time had come when the mind

could not reason with the emotions. Shock had stunned the brain, dulled the thinking, and shattered the nervous system. Yet tonight

when one

them set forth to meet the kidnapper, she needed to react swiftly and with good judgment. Zeke doubted if either had such capability. In the beginning Bogie had been ruthless and threatening; now he was a sadist torturing them on a rack of

of the Inquisition.

"When you

capture him," Patti said

where he got the

cat.

Was

softly, "I

want

to

know

there a tag, any identification?"

"None."

"Can we have him back?" Mike asked. "I want to bury him out under the flowering maple, and I'll make a little marker, and put 158

To the unknown cat. You know, like the Unknown Unknown Cat who gave his life for us?

on

it:

To

the

Soldier.

"That's sweet," Patti said. "We'll see."

"Why

not?"

"The FBI may have other plans." Ingrid got up. "I can't take

all tins talk

about death and bury-

ing."

"Finish your cereal," Patti ordered. "We'll talk about something else."

She poured another round of

going tonight,"

coffee. "I'm

she said quietly, dropping the remark as

if it

had no more import

than a reference to the weather. Ingrid stopped her spoon in midair. "You can't,

awfully mad.

He might do

"I should' ve

gone before but

got talked out of

I

spent such a terrible night in

pened

sis.

He'll

be

something."

my

life

and

if

it,

and

I

never

anything'd hap-

." .

.

"Why you

instead of me?"

"I'm the oldest. That's why. I'm in charge while Dad's gone." "Tell her, Zeke, she can't go."

Zeke straightened and tensed. "Look, think he's being double-crossed. He's

and

he's got the

upper hand right

got D.C. and you two as possible

we

Patti,

I'm afraid

made such

he'll

a point of it—

now— and will, as long as he's victims. Up to a point, I think

should go along with him."

"He wants

the three hundred thousand dollars, doesn't he?"

Patti reined in her anger

he going

to risk losing

it

but nonetheless

just

because

I

it

could be heard. "Is

go?"

Zeke nodded. "We're dealing with an angry, wild, volcanic, quixotic mind. He's not normal, itated,

then

felt

and hence, not

compelled to state

it.

logical."

He

hes-

"You're looking ahead, Patti,

and anticipating how you will feel if anything should happen to Inky. You're going to wreck yourself by your wild imagination—" She flared. "Wild imagination, huh? Well, that does it." "Now, Patti, I didn't mean anything. In my work I have to be objective."

"Try

it

on someone

else."

Near

tears, she

kicked the chair back

^9

and

left

tonight,

the kitchen.

and

me.

after

Then she

that's final,

I'll

stuck her head back

Mr. Kelso.

look after myself.

I'll

in.

"I'm going

And you don t have

to look

get Mrs. Macdougall. She's

worth ten FBI agents." She muttered under her breath, "She's bound to hit something sometime."

"Has she counted her toes recently?" Mike asked, but

Patti

was

gone.

A

long silence followed her departure, broken by Ingrid. "I

don't think

you understand women, Zeke.

have a heart-to-heart

I

think we'd better

talk."

understand them, either," Mike said. "Sometimes they seem like people." "No one's asking you." She turned back to Zeke. "We're both about to come unglued, Zeke. She didn't mean it." "It's up to you two to decide. As an FBI agent, I can counsel but I'm not permitted to make a decision." "Figure on me going. I'll talk to Patti. I know how to handle her and—" "I don't

don't

"You'd better teach

me—" Zeke

began.

"—and she'll understand." "Have you told Greg? He should know tween and possibly may get a call—"

since he's the go-be-

"Let me."

"Okay. For your information, Inky, we'll operate tonight the

Do what he

you if possible. We'll move in right after you've paid the ransom and have D.C., if we can without putting you in danger. I won't let

same

Follow

as before.

his directions.

anything happen to you. You

She stared

why

soulfully.

know

tells

that."

"But you can't be sure, can you? That's

I'm going. If anything does happen, you and Patti will have

a wonderful

life

together.

really. I haven't got things

And

as for

me, I'm not

in love.

Not

organized yet like you and Patti have.

Web's fun but I wouldn't marry him. He's not up to you or Greg. If you or Greg weren't so gosh-awful old—well, it'd be different. I was reading this book the other night about war, and how men are expendable,

160

and

I

got to thinking that

I

was expendable. I'm

not being dramatic like everyone accuses

why

me

everyone thinks teen-agers are dramatic

of. I

don't

when they

know

discuss

things in depth. I'm being objective, Zeke, like you. Facts are facts/'

Zeke shook

his

Maybe

Randall.

head

in

amazement. "You're something, Ingrid

I'm marrying the wrong

sister."

She started clearing the dishes. "Never was any doubt about that,"

she said flippantly.

Mike picked up a couple of dishes, too, which was unprecedented. "You don't need to pay me back the dollar and quarter— and anytime you need some money, you go ahead and take the Coke bottles back to the market." Operation Cat got underway at 9 a.m. in the Los Angeles conference room

Field's listen to

thirty-five

agents gathered to

latest developments. He was brief and was as tired as his eyes. The sleepless nights For the first time that he could remember,

Zeke outline the

concise but his voice

had taken he had

when

their

toll.

difficulty organizing his material.

He

felt

the tension in

the room, a tension that spread from agent to agent like a tangible thing.

Each man recognized the hazards involved—that were

always inherent

when an

innocent person, with no experience in

dealing with criminals or crime, met a kidnapper or extortionist

Not a man deprecated the brilliance of this subject, who while crude and primitive in his approach, had an instinctive cunning. They recognized that his campaign of mental torture of the two Randall girls might be a put-on but they had to accept it at face value—that he might harm one or both. Without question, he possessed imagination and daring. Zeke said, "While it's going to be a moving type of operation, or blackmailer.

still

we'll

have a half hour to

location of the

we

learn the

rendezvous—provided he follows through on the

timetable he has set up. I

set our strategy after

He may not,

though, and for that reason

want every one on stand-by from one and set the meeting up earlier."

o'clock on.

He may

pull

a switch

He

referred to notes.

"We

got a teletype from Washington this

161

morning setting forth the two arrests for shoplifting

To be brief, it shows San Francisco when he was a juvenile. The charges were dropped for lack of evidence. It shows one arrest on suspicion of holding up a bank in Reno, Nevada, but no subject's record.

in

disposition of the charge.

we must keep in mind that he may have who may take an actual part in the transaction tonight or may serve as a cover or driver of the getaway car. I mention this because we don't want to concentrate too much on the kidnapper to the exclusion of everyone else if he "I

want

to stress that

one or more accomplices

should choose a crowded spot.

"You have photos of the

artist's

drawing of the subject and of

the cat in question. Study the cat carefully.

us think

all

I

black cats look the same, but

know

if

that most of you examine the

photo

you'll note that there are certain distinguishing character-

istics.

He's overweight and has jowls. His underpinning hangs

down. His whiskers are white. And shaped nick in

Back

his right ear has a sizable

V-

it."

Zeke sat lost in thought. He was emotionally from the ordeal of the case but mostly because of his

at his desk,

spent, partly

estrangement from Patti. He chastised himself for a bluntness that was unlike him. For most of his boyhood, he had been quiet and withdrawn. In the FBI, too, he had continued to keep his

how he could have imagination." He had been too

thoughts to himself. So he could not explain

termed

Patti's

thinking as "wild

frank, also, about D.C. In the future— if there

Patti— he would be more discreet.

He

was a future with

guessed he had been out-

close, and in love. One spilled out his and opinions freely then, without thinking about how the other might feel. With strangers, it was different. Odd, wasn't it, that one would not dream of hurting a stranger, yet was thought-

spoken because they were beliefs

less

162

when

it

came

to those

he loved?

37

They would always remember the day, a warm, lazy, November one. The two, Patti and Ingrid, sat talking in the little patio off the dining room. The bougainvillaea that hung heavy over the window was still a mass of magenta that would disappear with the first cold night. A blue jay squawked overhead demanding a peanut, and a squirrel was high in the walnut leaping from branch to branch in daring gymnastics.

A week ago

D.C. would have been stretched out asleep on the

old chaise with the faded blue terry-cloth cover.

He

slept there

daytimes, and cleaned himself up there, digging into his fur with his teeth for the burrs effects.

His hair was

long Johns

last spring.

no one had ever

them out with vigorous vocal where he had shed his Since the chaise was his personal property, and

still

sat

spitting

scattered about

there—except once when George Randall

had paced about, angrily swishing his tail and muttering. "I've as much right here as you have," their father had told him. The minute Randall got up to answer a phone call, D.C. had hopped up and stretched himself out full length, taking up as much room as possible. When Randall returned, D.C. had given him the old hex-eye treatment. "Don't you dare throw him off," Patti warned. had. That time D.C.

He

shrugged in defeat. "That cat gets the VIP treatment every

day that

I get

only

when I'm

sick."

Their eyes went to the old chaise now, and memories kept

"Remember when mother

and D.C. knew something had happened, and he followed us about, and for weeks afterward he would go into her room every morning and over the house looking for her?" welling up. Patti said,

Patti got a handful of peanuts

from the

little

died,

box where she

kept them and put a few on the patio wall for the blue

death brought us I

had

all

closer together than

to take over running the

jay.

"Her

we'd ever been— and

house and looking after

all

of you."

163

The blue "So that's

jay darted

why

always feel

it

"I feel the

I

down, grabbed a peanut, and dashed

off.

something happened to you,

I'd

have to

had been

go. If

my job to do, and I hadn't done it."

same," Inky said stubbornly.

"But you're not responsible for me, the way

something

he has a reason

else,

"He'll kill D.C.

you

if

for

"This

may come

for you.

And

wanting you rather than me."

how

upset he

is,

he wants the

a chance we've got to take." She smiled.

it's

news

as

am

go."

"I don't think so. I don't care

money. Anyway,

I

to you, but

much

as I love D.C., I

love you more."

As he had promised Kelso—how ever gotten into fhe

At 6:20 he put out

He

in the

world had that

man

FBI?—Greg returned home well before 6:30. and petted him while he ate.

Blitzy's dinner

refused to eat unless Greg sat on the floor beside him, and

while Greg complained to his friends about the routine, he secretly liked the feeling that Blitzy loved his presence as

much

as

him

so deeply he

wanted

he did food.

At 6:30 the phone rang. "Baiter?" "This is Mr. Baiter speaking." "Here's the dope, Baiter, and get it

out only once since

Tell the Randall kid

I

know

I'll

Amusement Park north

meet her

of

it

down because

I'm putting

the cops' ve got the phone bugged.

Beach

at seven at the old

Manhattan Beach. Tell her

just to

wander around. I'll find her. I don't want you or her sister there. You get that? The deal's off if I see either one of you. That's all." "Hold on there," Greg said, but the man had already hung up. Zeke and the agents were standing by

in the conference

room.

The minute Communications reported the kidnapper had set the rendezvous location— before he had even finished the conversation— Zeke was quietly but rapidly giving out assignments. He dispatched four to work the area in general. 'Try to get there ahead of the Randall girl and make yourselves conspicuous. 164

Establish your faces so that,

people, he will have seen

He countermanded one better send a younger man.

school

if

the kidnapper

you before she

and college crowd

order. "Wait, It's

is

casing the

I

think we'd

arrives."

Hughes,

Friday night— and mostly a high

will

be

there.

Wilkins,

you take

Hughes's place."

He

and stand by. They would give chase to the kidnapper if he fled by car before he could be apprehended. Next Zeke posted two agents to roam the beach north of the "crime scene" and two south to guard assigned three units to park close to the

against flight

by the kidnapper

site

in either direction.

He

instructed

four agents to prowl the water's edge to forestall escape

motorboat or other

by

craft.

While he was making the assignments, agents were on the One alerted a police helicopter that was standing by. He repeated instructions previously given. The whirlybird was to hover a considerable distance away to keep from being spotted. It would be called in if the kidnapper himself had a copter comtelephone.

ing in to pick

him

up. Other agents notified the sheriff, police,

Coast Guard, and other law enforcement agencies.

A him

secretary that Patti

handed Zeke a note. Ingrid had called to inform would deliver the ransom payment. He stared at

the message, momentarily stunned, then turned to Plimperton.

"Okay, Stu,

let's

go."

38 Bogie put the phone down, stretched out on the lumpy

and gazed about the seedy room. It wouldn't be long now. Man, he felt good. Trembling a little, but a guy should with all

sofa,

that

money

in the pot.

He would tighten up when the time came. who got the shakes

Like the Broadway stars he had heard about

before going onstage but, once on, were as steady as a safecracker listening to the tumblers

With

his fingertips,

fall.

he roughed up

his scalp.

Helped him

relax.

i%

Twenty-eight minutes to zero hour. Not that the Randall gal could make it by then. She would be fifteen or twenty minutes

He had planned

late.

timed

it.

She would

it

that way; he

had driven the route and

suffer during those fifteen or

Always keep twisting the screws. That was the

twenty minutes.

secret of dealing

with people. Auntie handed him a scotch. "One for the road. But only one,

boy-

He

took

The old

it

bat!

many as he wanted. She didn't even suspect that she'd never see him

without comment. He'd have as

again after tonight. She did have her uses, though, he had to admit. She

had got

rid of the cat, thank goodness. Spirited

it

it up to the phone for the Randall dame— few minutes before the manager knocked. She said she'd drowned the thing in the ocean but he had his doubts. Still, she was a hard, old witch and didn't let her feelings interfere with

out right after he'd put

and

just a

business.

He smiled thinking What an idea. He bet

dead cat he had sent the Randalls. had knocked them for a loop. He had seen this cat dead in the street, hit during the night by a car, and right away the idea had popped into his mind. At the living-room window, he studied the layout below. The lights were beginning to come on. No oil pit to fall into this time.

No

of the

that

darkness to stumble through.

A

nice, clean operation.

growing dusk, a crowd was gathering, mostly

little

kids

In the

and

their

would disappear and the high school and would move in. The merry-go-round was doing and still going whang-whang-whang. It was all

parents. Gradually, they

college students

a brisk business,

and throwing reflections in dancing color over bright little faces, and the hot dog stand, and couples with goose pimples on the beach, and foamy crests where the waves broke. After he had the money, he might shoot a couple carrousel horses to settle the score for all the nights the whang-whang-whang had kept him awake. Wouldn't that be something? The cops, of course, would be down there waiting for him to meet the Randall kid. But he had a plan, and if he did say so lighted up,

166

was absolutely brilliant. Even Auntie admitted it was. know how he could be so smart. Sheer genius. Either you have it or you don't. By eight o'clock, he would have the himself,

He

it

didn't

would be wondering what had happened. He knew a motel not far away that didn't care who you were or what you did provided you didn't leave any bodies behind when you checked out or bloodstains on the $300,000 and the Randall trick, and the cops

upholstery.

Ten

to seven.

He would

pretend to be furious

when

leave at seven on the dot.

the Randall skirt arrived

He would

late.

Auntie returned to the living room. She had on her old gray winter coat. fell

It

was not that cold

below seventy she wore the

Special out to reload. time, did the job.

Her

outside, but

coat.

if

the temperature

She took her Saturday Night

arthritic fingers

were clumsy but given

She returned the Special to her right-hand

coat pocket.

He

felt

odd.

Too much excitement, he supposed. He should

not have had the steak dinner.

He knew

better.

Eat

light

when

going out on a job. Something was wrong, too, with his eyes. Auntie was blurred. The room was. Then something struck him in the solar plexus. chest,

and

He

breathed heavily, a pain shot through his

his legs buckled.

"Get a doc," he said in a rasping voice. "A doc. I'm having a heart attack."

He

could barely see Auntie. But he

knew

that she

had not

moved. "Get a doc," he whispered.

He went down with

a crash. His body struck the cocktail table, and an arm knocked the lamp off the end table by the He lay quietly, a contorted mass of flesh, arms and legs

turned, sofa.

twisted into a strange, Dali design.

Auntie set the lamp back on the table and pushed the furniture away from him. Once she had him straightened out, she put a sofa pillow under his head and a blanket over him. She tucked it in around him the way she had when he was a child.

She stood over him, looking down, her eyes troubled but her 167

.

expression grim. "Boy," she said softly, "you shoulda treated your

old Auntie better.

loved you one time, boy, and

I

I

done good by

Remember your first grown-up suit? Never did see a little And birthday parties every year. Never did miss one, not even when business was poor. Never did. Cake and candles and you a-whoopm. Can t understand what went wrong. All of a sudden we didn't know each other. Strangers we were." you.

tyke so excited.

She put a handkerchief to her eyes. "Nothing stands

We

seems.

all

come

to the

still,

end of the road. Well, gotta be gom

Good-bye, boy."

39

With effort, she hobbled down the two flights of stairs. Her corns were killing her. The stair well was aromatic at this hour with the usual food odors. The muted sound of televisions turned ster

on high reverberated through the

walls, a

young-

screamed, and a couple yelled at each other. Everything was

normal.

In the downstairs corridor, she glanced at her watch.

Ten

minutes to seven, the hands read. But the watch ran ten minutes slow.

Never had kept good time. That was the trouble with

picking things up. Couldn't exchange them.

She turned away from the front door, which led

to the merry-

go-round and ocean, and went out the back way. Here the light

from a area.

lone,

weak bulb

scattered the darkness of a small parking

The old blue Chevrolet

stood where Bogie had

Walking about

she checked the

left

it

tires,

then

got behind the steering wheel and turned on the ignition.

The

earlier in the day.

it,

motor spun quickly and she switched it off. She doubted if she would need the car but a body never could tell. From her coat pocket, she took the newspaper clipping that had been taped to the refrigerator door, that showed Patti, Ingrid, and D.C. She studied it a moment, to fix Ingrid's face in her mind, then stuffed 168

it

back into the pocket.

Her back about for a

killed her as she

heavy shopping bag. She

about to close the door

when

reached behind the front seat

set

it

on the ground, and was

she saw a box on the floor by the

was stamped and partially wrapped for mailing but was obviously empty. It was addressed to Mr. Harry Bogart, General Delivery, Las Vegas, Nevada. Slowly she peeled off the stamps, mumbling to herself. "Weren't other seat. Picking

you goin

to cut

up, she noted

it

me

in for nothin at

You hurt me somethin Leaving the

car,

it

all,

boy? You hurt me, boy.

,

awful."

she tossed the box in a nearby rubbish barrel

but held onto the shopping bag. Next she went to a Volkswagen

parked directly behind the Chevy. She had rented ing.

From

it

it

that morn-

she got several big manila envelopes, also addressed

and stamped, and back

at the

Chevy, placed them on the seat

next to the driver s.

was seven-twenty. No hurry. Let wander around looking for Bogie. Do her good to stew

Seven-ten, which

the girl

a

meant

it

little.

Zeke

sat

drumming

his fingertips

on the steering wheel. The

closest

he could park was a block away. The

parallel

with the ocean, and directly back of the apartment build-

street that ran

was narrow and no parking at any time was permitted. Stu left, saying he would take a look around. Zeke had to stay where he was since Bogie knew him. But sitting doing nothing was sheer agony. The brain screamed for him to get out; his muscles demanded it. He wanted to watch Patti when she arrived. He wanted to watch her every step of the way. If he had

ing,

Plimperton

her visually under surveillance he might

make a quick

decision

moment that he could not make sitting here. The agents following her kept him posted. Holding to a speed of fifty-five, she was approximately ten miles away. The time was seven and the first units to arrive were reporting. "Unit Ten in, Unit Ten. All quiet here/' The news was invariably the same. The subject had not been seen, and nothing of an untoward nature had taken place. in a crisis

169

As the minutes added up, Zeke grew more and more anxious.

By now, Bogie should have been on

the scene. Probably he was

hiding somewhere, perhaps in an apartment or on the building's

and would wait until Patti arrived to emerge. What would he do then, when he discovered that she had taken Ingrid's place? The crowd could be a plus or a minus. A plus if he feared he might set off an uproar if he harmed her. A minus if he believed the noise and the people themselves, bent on fun and not too roof,

conscious of those around them, would be a good cover for a quick knife stab or a shot fired from a

gun with a

silencer, a

gun jammed

into her flesh.

came the clear, firm voice over the radio. "I'm leaving the San Diego Freeway now, and should be in Manhattan Beach in about five minutes, and will take the "This

is

Patti Randall,"

coast route north from there."

The words were

a cool breeze blowing over him. "We're wait-

when you leave Manhattan Beach— and location when you park. Kill two or three min-

ing for you. Report again

again your exact

utes in your car before

you leave

for the carrousel."

"I'm worried. I'm so late."

He knows you

"Doesn't matter. to

can't

make

it.

He

set the time

worry you." all right-and I'll be all right." "Of course, you will, Patti." He wanted desperately to add "I love you," but with

"I'm

men

listening in

.

.

.

Why

thirty-five

hadn't he told her at breakfast?

Why

were down and he wanted more than anything else in the world to let her know? But then he thought, didn't people usually wait until someone was in a crisis,

had he waited

or critically

ill

until the chips

or dying to

tell

him how much he was loved?

window down. It was one of those rare, balmy November nights. The stars shone at half-glow through a thin Patti kept the

layer of smog.

Manhattan Beach was quiet, and the highway running north had little traffic until she neared the old amusement park.

The long drive had calmed her. The exhaustion she had suffered day had vanished. She was keyed up, thinking sharply. Zeke. He had said her name in the old way, before they had broken up. She had been acting childishly, hadn't she? He could all

not help

it,

could he,

if

he did not

like cats?

And one

especially?

There were many things she could not stand. She had been too about other things he had

sensitive, also,

from way back, too not survive

when

this

her "wild tired

She knew only too well that love could

tired.

one's feelings

could talk to Zeke

said, like

would not have been. She was

imagination." Ordinarily, she

were

minute, talk

while she loved D.C. she loved him

easily hurt. all

She wished she

of this out, explain that

far, far

more, the same as she

did Inky and Mike and Dad. But really there was no need for that.

No

one had to rate

how much he

loved another. Love was

not a percentage deal. She remembered someone saying once that

humor could be

dissected but

it

died in the process.

And

that

was

even more true of love.

She was not about

to search for a parking space.

She pulled

up even with the merry-go-round on a street that had The sidewalk ran with a happy flow of young people, and the carrousel ground out

the car

no-parking-at-any-time signs posted. noisy,

loudly the gay strains of "The Beer Barrel Polka." Its lights cast

a kaleidoscopic glow that added to the carnival atmosphere.

She shut "Zeke, this

off the

engine and bent low to conceal her moving

is Patti. I

Ve

just

parked very close to the carrousel."

His voice answered instantly. "Good! Take

"Okay, Zeke. Don't worry.

As she

left

the car, a

said, "You'll get

a ticket

if

lips.

I'll

tall,

it

slow and easy/'

be okay."

lanky fellow in his late twenties

you park

there."

She nodded, he shrugged, and she went to the trunk. She pretended to have difficulties with the lock. Eventually she

opened the trunk, and took out her Dad's old briefcase that he had discarded years ago. It was bulging and heavy with the ransom payment. If rain fell, she would not have to cope with a soggy package.

A

motorcycle roared up behind her and she turned quickly. 171

A

guy

in black leather jacket

and black boots with bushy, tangled

want a

hair looked her over. "Hey, chick,

Shaking her head, she slammed the

lid

ride?"

on the trunk down hard

by way of an exclamation mark, and took to the sidewalk. She was dressed too warmly. She was in a heavy pants suit and jacket, and anticipating she might have

A

shoes.

to

walk

woman

crying, ran past her; a

little girl,

wore tennis

in sand,

loaded

down

with groceries waddled along; two teen-age guys hurried past her and turned to get a frontal view; a black boy wheeled by on a bicycle; a dog on a leash sniffed at her legs until he was jerked

away; and a pack of high school

talking simultaneously,

girls,

engulfed her.

The

briefcase

was heavy, and growing

heavier. Stopping at

the hot dog stand, she bought a cone of soft ice cream.

From here

she had a good view of the merry-go-round and the people. While she licked the cone, her gaze went methodically from

man.

It

was a moving,

crowd but

shifting

man

to

largely in slow motion.

Most were young couples out on a date, or parents in their thirties and forties with youngsters. There were few singles about, and she was soon aware that everyone who passed looked cally at her.

ronism in

She was a lone

girl

quizzi-

with a bulky briefcase, an anach-

this setting.

Clutching the case

tightly,

she walked very slowly about the

merry-go-round, then wandered over to a

little

shop packed with

the usual resort souvenirs, including enormous gaily painted

ceramic pigs from Mexico, and crowded in the rear with pinball machines. While a very bored, older saleswoman with wispy hair stood watching, as

one souvenir

if

after another.

She thanked the nervous. She didn't tiring,

and her

Was he

172

woman and walked know what

legs, too.

to

do with

Would

She couldn't take

that.

She was growing

herself.

Her arm was

at least thirty minutes.

there be

more nightmares, more phone

instructions?

off.

She had been here

going to stand her up?

sleeping,

more

she might steal something, she looked over

more nights of not

calls in the

dark hours,

Inky could but not she.

Inky never failed to amaze her. She took life as it came, adapted to it, seldom worried. She rolled with the punches.

She found herself before a shooting

gallery.

A

Japanese- Ameri-

can couple were trying their luck hitting the ducks floating by on a track at the back of the shop. The Chicano who ran the place

and shook her head. Until the woman spoke, Patti was not conscious she stood next

called out to her. She smiled

behind her. "Where's your

to her, slightly

about, a puppet on a

The words snapped Patti woman was gaunt and tall, in her asked.

"Where's your

sister?" the

fifties

woman

woman

sister?" the

The

string.

or sixties, gray-haired.

repeated.

Her tone and man-

ner were pleasant.

"She couldn't come. She's

The woman nodded man asked me to tell

sick.

Very

sick."

in the direction of the carrousel.

you,

hon—he

said he'd

"A

gentle-

meet you on the

merry-go-round."

"Where is he? I don't see him." "He said he'd meet you on the merry-go-round." The woman walked away. As units reported

in,

Zeke funneled the information to others.

"All units, all units. Contact has just

an older

woman who

where she

will

instructed her to proceed to merry-go-round

be met by a man. Randall

merry-go-round. subject.

been made with Randall by

We

"Unit Twelve is

in,

to

have no report from any units having seen

Unit Twelve.

if

they locate him."

Woman who made

contact with

following her toward merry-go-round. Randall

ing a ticket, and the

woman

ten feet behind Randall

moves

now

proceeding

Agents working merry-go-round will intensify lookout for

Bogart and move in for tight surveillance

Randall

is

contact has stopped. She

is

is

buy-

eight or

and every time Randall turns about she

so that Randall cannot see her. Randall

is

now waiting with

about twelve others, mostly youngsters, to board merry-go-round

when

it

stops. Description of

woman

height, five six or seven; hair, gray;

carrying bulky shopping bag.

We

follows— age, about

sixty;

wearing heavy gray coat;

have merry-go-round under *73

very close surveillance but no one matching Bogart's description has appeared."

Zeke was sweating.

If

he could only be nearby,

if

he could only

see.

A

about twelve asked Patti a question, and Patti an-

girl of

swered, but afterward could not remember what the question had been. She

had the

feeling she

focused intently on the horses,

was

giraffes, elephants,

other animals as they passed before her.

on the carrousel except one

A workman ride

when

and

tall.

and yet she and all the But there was no man

in a trance,

in his early thirties with a

little

boy.

stood back of the turning disk, waiting to stop the

the time was up.

He was

in his forties, heavy, dark,

Slowly she turned, examining every face, and once she caught a furtive movement.

And

then the ride ended, and along with

drew moving

the youngsters and three parents, she climbed aboard. She

a horse and stood alongside

it

while the carrousel started

A

boy ahead of her was screaming with happiness at the top of his lungs, and a little girl with him, on an elephant, was waving to her mother. again.

I'm going to get seasick, she thought. I'm going to get seasick. I

never have been able to take rapid movement.

Then the woman materialized. Patti had not seen her board but The woman put her lips inches from Pattf s ear. 'Til take the money, hon. The man sent me for it."

here she was.

As she reached our cat?

He

for the briefcase, Patti

said he'd turn over our cat

yanked

it

back. "Where's

when we gave him

the

money." "I'm sorry about that, hon, but cat, seein'

handed Patti

he'd be scared with

couldn't rightly fetch the

the to-do that's goin' on." She

"You can pick 'im up here." shouted back. "He's dead— and that's why you

Patti a slip of paper.

bring him.

You

"Now, now, 174

all

we

didn't

killed him!"

dearie. Don't get yourself all het up.

The Lord

strike

me

of the

little

dead, I'm

tellin

feller—like he

you the God's was my own."

good care

truth. I took

"I'm not giving you one dollar until we get our cat. The deal was—" The woman pushed a weapon into Patti's side. "Didn t want to do this, hon, you bein' such a nice girl. Didn't want to at all. But ." I'm pullin' the trigger. You goin' to meet your maker. .

"Unit Twelve

in,

Unit Twelve. Contact

woman

.

continues talk-

who has removed briefcase from her reach. woman has moved closer to her, body to body. No sign of subject and woman has not produced cat."

ing with Randall,

Contact

Zeke was beside himself. The conversation from

was not coming "Don't

over.

make me shoot you, hon. Never

born days. I'm

gettin' old. It's

the trigger, I'm a-pullin' Patti

Patti's radio

The music blanketed the words.

now

killed

nobody

in all

my

or never for me. I'm pullin

it."

sagged and dropped the briefcase. With an

bestows, Auntie swept the case

up

off

agility a crisis

the floor and locked

it

un-

der one arm. With her right hand, she reached into her shopping

bag and took out what looked her

left

hand materialized a

like

a six-inch

Roman

tiny cigarette lighter.

candle. In

She put the

flame to the fuse, then threw the object out beyond the carrousel.

When

smoke puffed forth, then gushed up suddenly, and ballooned upward and outward. Stunned, the crowd scattered in all directions, quiet at first in its fright, then with the low roar of a wave coming in. Quickly, she tossed a second, and a third. The smoke rose and expanded, the wavy layers meeting and fusing into each other until there was a solid curtain. By the time she had thrown a half-dozen "smoke pots" —which Bogie had bought from a movie special effects mansmoke had engulfed the entire area and was spreading to the street. The carrousel continued turning, and once she had comit

struck, white

pleted a circle of pots, she started throwing

them out

at

a

greater distance. Soon

was a war

it

scene, with all visibility blot-

ted out.

Then Auntie disappeared. Coughing violently, Patti clung to was crying from the smoke, and her throat burn-

the horse. She ing.

But

all

she could think about was that D.C. was dead. There

could be no other reason

Zeke said

why

the

woman had failed

quietly, swiftly, "All units, all units. Pull

planned. Blockade

smoke in,

however, until

all

cars

all streets as

we for

and keep on lookout

"Patti,

Patti

."

we have determined if Randall we have located RandahV

not

move

Repeat,

is safe.

,

until

come

Patti,

in

if

you can. Come

last

Patti,

in,

.

.

thought he would

die.

Auntie hurried through the dense smoke.

would

hit a body,

part. If she it

Do

for the two.

repeated then what he had said over and over for the

minute.

He

Search

contact and Bogart. Other units, stand by as close to

as feasible

do not move in

He

all streets.

back out of

and be on lookout

smoke. Unit Fourteen, Unit Fourteen. Blockade

woman

to bring him.

and would knock

it

Now

aside. This

and then she

was the

crucial

could get out of the smoke quickly, she would have

made. She had

it all

figured out. She

knew

exactly

where the

animals stopped every time the merry-go-round came to a halt.

And

the door to the apartment building was directly opposite the

pink elephant.

Her eyes were burning

so painfully, though, that she thought

she would lose her sight before she Several people

had taken refuge

made

it.

But make

it

just inside the building

she did.

although

even here the smoke was heavy. She pushed through them and

walked swiftly

to the

back door, and out to the

car. Sirens

screaming, and people shouting, and in general the

enough

were

hubbub was

to scare the daylights out of a soul.

Once in the car, she worked in the dark. She took the neatly bound money packages out of the briefcase, and stuffed them as 176

rapidly as she could into the manila envelopes, then sealed the

envelopes.

Grasping them

toward the

street.

tightly,

up a trail in the sand smoke had thinned somewhat.

she struck off

Up this way

the

The night was still, though, and without a breeze to move it, the smoke lay tier on tier. She thanked the good Lord for that, and prayed

all

the

way

to the mailbox

where she dumped the enve-

lopes.

She made

it

across the street but couldn't

She thought she was having a heart

what

it

was booming and pains were shooting She sat on the curb, terrified to stay, unable to

used to be.

through her chest.

attack.

manage another step. The old ticker wasn't

It

go on.

As she waited

for her heart to slow

down, her thoughts went

to

would never see him again. But what was, was. Only night before last, he had drawn up the escape plan. He would come racing from the merrygo-round, she would have the Chevy's and the bug's motors running, and he would hand her the ransom. They would take off separately. If the cops stopped him, he'd be clean. She would mail the boy. It hurt something awful to realize she

the

money addressed to her

to General Delivery, Tucson, Arizona,

where they would meet to divide it. Only the boy had never intended to follow the game plan. He would come running, knock her aside, get in the Chevy and take off. He would mail the money to himself at General Delivery, Las Vegas.

Somewhere she had

failed him.

She had tried to bring him up

honest.

People kept drifting by and asking

if

all right, and she With the greatest her body ached, but she

she was

got worried. Be just like a cop to happen by. effort,

she got to her feet. Every joint in

managed to get all the parts in locomotion again. She took a narrow side street. Up ahead at the next corner was a cross street, and burned out flashing

Two

as her eyes were, she could see the red lights

from the police

cars.

houses this side of the blockade, she turned

in.

A

Sweet 277

Young Thing who had rented her a room this morning asked if she knew what all of the excitement was about. Auntie said she didn't. The Sweet Young Thing wished her a good night, and Auntie hobbled along a hallway to her room. She was glad she had taken the first-floor vacancy instead of the one on the second floor.

She never could have made the second

From

floor.

the window, she could see the blockade. Probably they

would have cleared it by morning, and she would take a bus to San Diego, and another to Tucson, where she would get her mail. She would have to write the car rental people where they could pick up the bug.

40

When

saw Patti, she was leaning against a Bureau car. An agent had found her wandering about, and brought her out of the smoke into the fresh air. She was coughing and her eyes were red and brimming with tears. Running down the street, dodging cars and people, Zeke reached her. He crushed her to him as though never to let her go. He felt the Zeke

first

violent trembling that coursed through her body.

An

agent hurried up. "Zeke," he called on the run, "I showed a

youngster the

artist's

drawing, and he says the subject lives on

the third floor of that apartment building with his aunt."

Zeke held her another long moment, then broke away.

back as soon as

He moved

I

off

can.

Get

in the car

and wait

"I'll

be

for me."

but she called, and then he saw the piece of

paper in her raised hand. "She told

me where

D.C.

is.

I've got to

go-"

"Not by yourself. Wait here, and "But

we'll

I've got to, Zeke. I've got to

other." Half in a

go together."

know— one way or— or

the

daze from shock and the smoke, she started

away. Gently he pulled her back. "Please, i 78

Patti,

wait for me.

We

know what you may be running

don't

into.

Wait

right here,

please/'

"But D.C.

I've got to find him."

He opened fell

and

the door,

exhausted on the back

with her and don't

let

like

an obedient

seat.

He

child, she got in

and

took an agent aside. "Stay

her out of the car—under any circum-

stances/'

"What

if

she insists?"

"Tell her she'll

be risking

my

life.

Tell her anything to keep

her here/'

The manager's hands shook lock.

had

so he couldn't get the key in the

Knew they were no good. They cat in the oven. Tried to tell me it was lasagne/'

"Never cared for them.

this

and standing aside out of gunshot range, shoved the door open so hard it hit the wall and rebounded. A little puff of smoke billowed out, but no sound, no Zeke took the key, turned the

movement broke the deadly Zeke called

lock,

silence.

out, identifying themselves

as

FBI

agents.

He

waited a few seconds, then signaled the others, and gun drawn, led the way.

The floor,

sight of

Harry Bogart stretched out on the living-room

face up, jarred them.

Then while two

agents searched the

other rooms, Zeke knelt and stripped off the blanket.

the pulse.

"It's

strong,"

He

felt

he said incredulously.

With the help of another agent, he examined Bogart further. "No knife or gun wounds. Breathing okay. Looks like somebody slipped him a Mickey Finn. Hell come around in an hour or so. "And when he does," he added, "he's going to get the surprise of his

life."

The address on the

slip

was a couple of blocks from the

apartment building. The house had a toy look. It was a twostory frame structure set on a very narrow lot with the neighboring homes within whispering distance.

Zeke

No light burned inside.

insisted Patti stay in the car while

he and a second agent *79

went up a few decaying wooden steps to a tiny, rickety porch. They pushed a bell that caused a succession of lights to come on. A drape fluttered at a window to the right, and opened a sliver to permit eyes to peer out. "Who is it?" a woman's weak voice asked.

He

Zeke was uneasy.

He had no

trap.

feared this kind of a setup.

idea whether the

woman was

It

could be a

an innocent

party or an accomplice, whether she was alone or one or more

persons hovered in the background. "We're looking for a black cat a friend of ours

left here."

There was no response. "She said Still,

we

could get the

he continued.

no answer.

"You have the

cat, don't

The door opened in

cat,"

you?"

A

a crack.

motherly type looked out. She was

an old chenille robe with her hair in

herself

if

curlers.

"Whyn't she come

she wants the cat? Who're you?"

Zeke produced

his credential.

"We're FBI agents."

She pushed the credential aside without glancing at it. "What would the FBI want with a cat?" A good question, Zeke thought. Here we go again. He took a firm attitude. "Open the door, please. We want to ask you some questions."

"How'd

I

know

you're the FBI?"

Zeke shoved the door in a few inches before encountering a foot blocking

"She

it.

"How'd you get the

left it here. I don't

cat?"

think you're the FBI.

come around asking about a

They wouldn't

cat."

"Who's she?" he asked. "If

you don't know who she

is,

how'd you know

.

.

.

?

There's no cat here."

Zeke said slowly,

patiently,

case and need to identify the

have nothing

and 180

all

to

"We're investigating a very serious

woman.

worry about, and can

you know about

her.

But

if

If

you are innocent, you

tell

us the woman's name,

you're involved with her in

some way, you

will only

be incriminating yourself more

you

if

don't co-operate with us."

She looked don't

know

at

him

her."

in horror. "I don't

know

her.

So help me,

She opened the door wider. Behind

her,

eyes about eight inches above the floor reflected the light

I

two from

outside.

"How'd you get the cat then?" "She comes by here on her way talk

to the grocery

when I'm out watering. She gave

me

and stops

to

ten dollars to keep

her cat for a week. Said she was going to be gone. Honest, that's the God's truth."

D.C.

meowed and

looked up at Zeke, then recognizing him,

growled. Zeke called to Patti to come, and she did, running up the steps as

if

her

life

depended on

haste.

While he asked questions, and took down the woman's name, Patti was underfoot, whispering and talking and crying. D.C. got

mechanism going full strength. He nuzzled her, and licked. Patti rubbed his ears and under his chin and held him tightly. They disturbed Zeke, and once he said, "Please, Patti!" But neither she nor D.C. heard. When Zeke announced they were leaving, she straightened up and walked to the car with D.C. riding on a shoulder, his eyes bright in the darkness. He knew he was going home. His gill had come for him. And it was about time. the purring

licked her face, purred

it

The blockade failed. Every woman over fifty passing through had been interrogated. Most had been highly indignant, and

the agents could not blame them.

Zeke ordered a house-to-house canvass of the area inside the blockade. If she were intelligent, she

would not have

tried to

run

it.

At a house two doors down from one of the blockades, the

Young Thing the woman they if she had a roomer or had seen anyone description. She looked up at them out of

agents described to the Sweet

were hunting, and asked about

who matched

big, innocent eyes,

the

and shook her head. 181

Back

at Auntie's room, she

awakened Auntie. "The FBI was

here," she said.

Auntie's ticker threatened to fly across the room.

The Sweet Young Thing

them They framed my Joe. station was held up, and

tossed her hair. "I didn't give

the time of day. I don't like those guys.

He was

me

with

the night that service

them so, and they framed him." 'Thank you, dearie," was all Auntie could

I told

say.

She was hav-

ing difficulty breathing. "I'm something awful pressed for money."

"How much you need, "Fifty dollars

hon?"

be too much?"

Auntie managed a smile. "Why, of course not, hon.

I

was

the boy only the other day, what's our country comin' to don't help our

young

tellin if

we

folks?"

41

The next

hubbub had died and nerves

night, after the

were slowly being unscrambled, Ingrid and D.C. wolfed

his plate clean of fresh liver,

which he usually disdained, and

sat

Web

watched

as

lapped up the milk,

up to beg

for more.

"No. Positively no," Inky said.

"Aw, come on,"

came back from a

Web

said. "Is this the

way

you'd treat

me

if

I

prisoner-of-war camp?"

She relented, though, and scooped a helping of tuna out of a can. As she did, D.C. licked

"Yes—if you were as

her hand.

"Isn't that

fat as

he

is."

sweet?"

"He thinks you need a bath," Web said, and dodged the empty can that whisked by him. Finished, D.C. licked his chops. Man, it was good to be back in the bosom of his family. Nobody would ever know what he had gone through. Greg shook let

his head. "I don't

her get away."

182

know how

it's

possible

you could

"We'll get her sooner or later," Zeke answered testily.

Greg shrugged. "Well, good

I'd better get

home. Blitzy

isn't

feeling

tonight."

They walked out the door with him, and when he was gone, Mrs. Macdougall came shuffling along, toting the shotgun. "You won't be needing that now," Zeke "Indeed,

Women

I will!

are being set

said.

upon

the time. Every

all

night. Horrible! Horrible!" "I don't think

you need

Zeke

to worry,"

said,

not thinking.

"Zeke!" Patti exploded. Mrs. Macdougall ambled on, mumbling to herself.

Mike pushed

his bicycle by.

He

didn't speak.

"What's wrong, Mike?" Patti asked.

"You know that old

woman who

lives in that old

needs painting on the corner? She won't pay

me

house that

for clipping

her dog, and she won't take the mutt back, and he eats a pound of meat a day,

me

"Give

and I'm going broke."

name and

her

address," Zeke told him, "and

I'll

talk

with her tomorrow."

"You Zeke,

He started away. "If you ever need any money, me know. I'll let you have it interest-free for the first

will!"

let

three months."

They laughed and stood awhile talking, planning the days ahead. They would shop the next afternoon for the refrigerator and

stove.

"What about

we

the

new

car?" Patti asked excitedly.

"When re

going out to look them over?"

Zeke averted

his eyes. "I don't think

"What! After

all

right away."

the talking you've done?"

"Yeah, well, you see, the

"Lost

we need one

money

I

saved for it— I

lost it."

it!"

"Yeah,

I

was so sure we'd capture the kidnapper and get the

ransom back." "You mean

.

.

.

you mean

.

.

?" .

"The Bureau couldn't put out money don't get excited. General Accounting

to

ransom a

cat.

Now

would have screamed

to

183

high heaven.

And

But we got half of

I it

could hardly put

it

on

my

expense account.

back."

"How?" "Bogart's his

Chevy

aunt—or whatever she was—left half the ransom

in

for him/'

Attached had been a note scrawled in almost indecipherable handwriting: "Sorry

it

had

to

end

like this, boy. Ill

never forget

you, boy. Your Auntie." Parti said,

own money

"You put up twenty-five hundred

to get

dollars of

your

D.C. back?"

Zeke grinned. "Yeah, well, you see, I figured maybe there'd be no wedding if he wasn't around to be best man." "Zeke Kelso," she said, kissing him resoundingly, "I love you."

184

In Appreciation:

Our

gratitude to Brenda

and Becky Holt of

Taft,

California, for their counsel regarding Ingrid

Randall and Web.

P36

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