Free The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams by Lawrence Block Page A

even have to think about it. And it couldn’t have taken you more than twenty minutes to go and get the cat and stick it in a carrying case and come back with it. How did you spend those twenty minutes? Let’s see—first you went back to the Poodle Factory to look up the number of your customer the fashion photographer, and then you called him and asked for the name and number of his friend with the allergies. Then I guess you called the friend and introduced yourself and arranged to meet him at his apartment and take a look at the animal, and then—”
    “Stop it.”
    “Well?”
    “The cat was at my apartment.”
    “What was he doing there?”
    “He was living there, Bern.”
    I frowned. “I’ve met your cats,” I said. “I’ve known them for years. I’d recognize them, with or without tails. Archie’s a sable Burmese and Ubi’s a Russian blue. Neither one of them could pass for a gray tabby, except maybe in a dark alley.”
    “He was living with Archie and Ubi,” she said.
    “Since when?”
    “Oh, just for a little while.”
    I thought for a moment. “Not for just a little while,” I said, “because he was there long enough to learn the toilet trick. You don’t learn something like that overnight. Look how long it takes with human beings. That’s how he learned, right? He picked it up from your cats, didn’t he?”
    “I suppose so.”
    “And he didn’t pick it up overnight, either. Did he?”
    “I feel like a suspect,” she said. “I feel as though I’m being grilled.”
    “Grilled? You ought to be charbroiled. You set me up and euchred me, for heaven’s sake. How long has Raffles been living with you?”
    “Two and a half months.”
    “Two and a half months! ”
    “Well, maybe it’s more like three.”
    “Three months! That’s unbelievable. How many times have I been over to your place in the past three months? It’s got to be eight or ten at the very least. Are you telling me I looked at the cat and didn’t even notice him?”
    “When you came over,” she said, “I used to put him in the other room.”
    “What other room? You live in one room.”
    “I put him in the closet.”
    “In the closet?”
    “Uh-huh. So you wouldn’t see him.”
    “But why?”
    “The same reason I never mentioned him.”
    “Why’s that? I don’t get it. Were you ashamed of him? What’s wrong with him, anyway?”
    “There’s nothing wrong with him.”
    “Because if there’s something shameful about the animal, I don’t know that I want him hanging around my store.”
    “There’s nothing shameful about him,” she said. “He’s a perfectly fine cat. He’s trustworthy, he’s loyal, he’s helpful and friendly—”
    “Courteous, kind,” I said. “Obedient, cheerful, thrifty. He’s a regular Boy Scout, isn’t he? So why the hell were you keeping him a secret from me?”
    “It wasn’t just you, Bern. Honest. I was keeping him a secret from everybody.”
    “But why, Carolyn?”
    “I don’t even want to say it.”
    “Come on, for God’s sake.”
    She took a breath. “Because,” she said darkly, “he was the Third Cat.”
    “You lost me.”
    “Oh, God. This is impossible to explain. Bernie, there’s something you have to understand. Cats can be very dangerous for a woman.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You start with one,” she said, “and that’s fine, no problem, nothing wrong with that. And then you get a second one and that’s even better, as a matter of fact, because they keep each other company. It’s a curious thing, but it’s actually easier to have two cats than one.”
    “I’ll take your word for it.”
    “Then you get a third, and that’s all right, it’s still manageable, but before you know it you take in a fourth, and then you’ve gone and done it.”
    “Done what?”
    “You’ve crossed the line.”
    “What line, and how have you crossed it?”
    “You’ve become a Woman With Cats.” I nodded. Light was beginning to dawn. “You