Free Canapés for the Kitties by Marian Babson

and not for Mr. Mallory at all. But why? Why should the vicar’s wife ... want to kill her? And Lily? And Marigold?
    In her dying moments, Miss Petunia Pettifogg had discovered a new mystery. It was one she carried with her to...
    THE END
    Lorinda straightened and flexed her tightened muscles. Had-I, stretched across her shoulders, mewled a protest and scrambled to a sitting position. But-Known, sprawled across her feet, slid to the floor and stretched.
    Lorinda gathered up the pages without her usual feeling of satisfaction. The uneasiness of last night had not quite left her. The gold-rimmed pince-nez, wrapped in a tissue, were filed in the FINAL CHAPTERS folder; she could not wait to bury them under more chapters and forget them.
    The phone tweetled abruptly, startling them all. Had-I leaped to the desk and watched the phone intently; she had long suspected that there was a bird in there somewhere. Only the obvious fact that it was completely inedible had kept her from killing and dismembering it. But-Known regarded her sister’s posturings with a jaundiced eye; even if there had been a bird in there, it was safe from But-Known.
    â€œHello?” Lorinda fended Had-I away from the cradle before she disconnected the call.
    â€œSanctuary,” Freddie croaked piteously. “I crave sanctuary.”
    â€œPoor Freddie,” Lorinda said automatically. “Come around and have a drink.”
    â€œI was hoping you’d say that. I’ll be right over.”
    The cats raced each other into the kitchen where they took up positions in front of the fridge. Two tiny pink tongues flicked out and moved from left to right in unison. They watched Lorinda with greedy anticipation. There was still plenty of booty left from last night’s party and they knew it.
    â€œOh, all right.” She had to open the fridge to get the ice cubes, anyway. The carton of goodies was still embarrassingly heavy. She hoped Plantagenet Sutton never learned how thoroughly his canapés had been plundered. It would not endear his new neighbours to him.
    Had-I and But-Known threw themselves enthusiastically into disposing of the evidence, crooning with delight. Lorinda put the carton back into the fridge just as Freddie tapped at the back door.
    â€œStop me if I’m becoming a bore on the subject,” Freddie said, “but I think it’s getting to be an obsession. I’ve always heard that there are people who can get along on only three or four hours’ sleep a night – isn’t it just my luck that a pair of them have moved into the other half of my semi?”
    Lorinda thrust a large gin and tonic into Freddie’s hand. It was the most sympathetic rejoinder she could think of at the moment.
    â€œThanks.” Freddie took a deep pull at it and barely paused to swallow before going on with her complaints. “I’ve stopped worrying about them killing each other – now I’m afraid they won’t. It may be my only hope for a peaceful life again.”
    â€œPerhaps they’ll split up and both go away.” Lorinda led the way into the living room. The cats were down to polishing their dishes now and casting hopeful glances; they needed a clear signal that they’d had their lot for the time being.
    â€œThat will never happen.” Freddie settled into an armchair. “They’re together until death do them part. Believe me, I’ve heard enough to know.”
    â€œOh, well.” Lorinda curled up in one corner of the sofa. “If that’s so, it will certainly provide all of us with a lot of fresh material.”
    â€œAll useless,” Freddie said dismissively. “Most murders are domestic, one spouse killing the other in real life. We all know that. Nothing more boring. No suspense, no questions about whodunit. Open-and-shut case. Straight police procedural and they’re yawning all the way to the jail. Nothing in it for us at all.”
    â€œOh, I