The Cat Who Knew Shakespeare (tcw-7) by Lilian Jackson Braun

Author:Lilian Jackson Braun [Braun, Lilian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_classic

7

Saturday, November sixteenth. "Possibility of snow squalls today with falling temperatures. Presently it's twenty-five degrees. Last night's low, fifteen... And now for the news: A hunter reported missing early this morning has been found by sheriffs deputies aided by state troopers. Junior Goodwinter is listed in fair condition at Pickax Hospital, suffering from exposure and a broken leg."

As Qwilleran later learned from police chief Brodie, a deputy on routine patrol of side roads on the opening day of hunting season had spotted the red Jaguar parked near a wooded area. When Junior was reported missing, they were able to start the search at that point, using tracking dogs and the mounted posse, a volunteer group of farmers who were expert horsemen.

"It seems to me," Qwilleran said to Mrs. Cobb at the breakfast table, "that no one should go hunting alone. Too many hazards."

"Herb always goes alone," she said.

Qwilleran thought, That guy can't find anyone to go with him. Uncharitable thoughts came to his mind whenever Hackpole was mentioned. Aloud he said, "If he's taking you to dinner tonight, why not bring him in for a drink before you leave?"

"That would be nice," she said. "We'll have it right here in the kitchen. He'll be more comfortable here."

"Would he like a tour of the museum?"

"Well, to tell the truth, Mr. Q, he thinks art objects are dust catchers, but I'd like to show him the basement."

"You've never told me anything about his background," Qwilleran said, although he had heard about it from Junior.

"He grew up here. After a hitch in the army he worked on the East Coast, married, and had a couple of kids. They're grown-up now, and he doesn't even know where they are."

That fits the picture, Qwilleran thought.

"He came back to Moose County because of his wife's allergies, but she didn't like country life and she left him."

Ran off with a beer truck driver, Qwilleran had heard. "He's a very lonely man, and I feel sorry for him."

"Has he shown you the farmhouse?"

"Not yet, but I know what I want to do — strip the wallpaper, paint the walls white, and stencil them."

"Would you like to have the big pine wardrobe? If so, it's your wedding present."

She gasped. "You mean the Pennsylvania German schrank? Oh, I'd love it! But are you sure you want to part with it?"

"My life will never be the same without it," he said. "I expect to have anxiety attacks and periods of great depression, and I may have to go into therapy, but I want you to have the schrank.”

"Oh, Mr. Q, you're kidding me again."

"Have you set a date?"

"Next Saturday if it's all right with you. Herb just wanted us to go to the courthouse, but I told him I wanted to be married here. Susan Exbridge is standing up for me. Would you be willing to be best man?"

He controlled a gulp. "Be glad to, Mrs. Cobb. Do you have a guest list? We'll have a champagne reception."

"That's very kind of you, but I don't think Herb would care for a reception, Mr.

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