"Well," said Cokey, when that was done, "it's about David Lyke. When you took me to his party and introduced him, I pretended we had never met." "But you had," said Qwilleran. "In fact, you carry his picture in your handbag." "How did you know?" "You spilled everything on my sofa Saturday night, and Koko selected Lyke's picture and started licking it." "You and your psychic cat are a good team!" "Then it's true?" She shrugged helplessly. "I was one of the hordes of women who fell for that man. Those bedroom eyes! And that voice like a roll of drums!… Of course, it never amounted to anything. David charmed everyone and loved no one." "But you still carry his picture." Cokey pressed her lips together, and her eyelashes fluttered. "I tore it up — a few days ago." Then all at once it became necessary for her to repair her lipstick, change the records, snuff the candles on the dinner table, put the butter in the refrigerator. When she had finished her frantic activity, she sat down again with her knitting. "Let's talk about you," she said to Qwilleran. "Why do you always wear red plaid ties?" He fingered his neckwear tenderly. "I like them. This one is a Mackintosh tartan. I had a Bruce and a MacGregor, too, but Koko ate them." "Ate them!" "I was blaming the moths, but Koko was the culprit. I'm glad he didn't get this one. It's my favorite. My mother was a Mackintosh." "I never heard of a cat eating ties." "Wool-eating is a neurotic symptom," Qwilleran said with authority. "The question is: Why didn't he touch the Mackintosh? He had plenty of opportunity. He ruined all the others. Why did he spare my favorite tie?" "He must be a very considerate cat. Has he eaten anything else?" Qwilleran nodded gloomily. "You know that Danish Modern chair in my apartment? He ate a piece of that, too." "It's wool," Cokey said. "Animal matter. Maybe it tastes good to neurotic cats." "The whole apartment is full of animal matter: vicuna chairs, suede sofas, goat-hair rug! But Koko had to pick Harry Noyton's favorite chair. How much will I have to pay to get it reupholstered?" "Mrs. Middy will do it at cost," said Cokey, "but we'll have to order the fabric from Denmark. And how can you be sure Koko won't nibble it again?" Qwilleran told her about Mrs. Highspight and the plan to adopt the Tait cat. "She told me Tait is unfond of cats.

She also said he's slow to pay his bills." "The richer they are, the harder it is to collect," said Cokey.

"But is Tait as rich as people think? David hinted that the decorating bill was unpaid. And when we discussed the possibility of publishing the Tait house, David said he thought he could use persuasion; it sounded as if he had some kind of leverage he could employ. Actually, Tait agreed quite readily. Why? Because he was really broke and inclined to cooperate with his creditor? Or for some other obscure reason?" Qwilleran touched his moustache. "Sometimes I think the Muggy Swamp episode is a frame-up. And I still think the police theory about the houseboy is all wet." "Then what's happened to him?" "Either he's in Mexico," said Qwilleran, "or he's been murdered. And if he's in Mexico, either he went of his own accord or he was sent there by the conspirators. And if he was sent, either he has the jades with him or he's clean. And if he has the jades, I'll bet you ten to one that Tait is planning a trip to Mexico in the near future. He's going away for a rest.

If he heads west, he'll probably wind up in Mexico." "You can also go west by heading east," said Cokey.

Qwilleran reached over and patted her hand. "Smart girl." "Do you think he'd trust the houseboy with the jades?" "You've got a point. Maybe Paolo didn't take the loot. Maybe he was dispatched to Mexico as a decoy. If that's the case, where are the jades hidden?" The answer was a large silence filling the room. Qwilleran clicked his pipe on his teeth. Cokey clicked her knitting needles. The record player clicked as another disc dropped on the turntable. Now it was Brahms.

Finally Qwilleran said, "You know that game Koko and I play with the dictionary?" He proceeded with circumspection. "Lately Koko's been turning up some words that have significance…. I shouldn't talk about it. It's too incredible." "You know how I feel about cats," said Cokey. "I'll believe anything." "The first time I noticed it was last Sunday morning. I had forgotten to fix his breakfast, and when we played the dictionary game he turned up hungerly." Cokey clapped her hands. "How clever!" "On the next try he turned up feed, but I didn't catch on until he produced meadow mouse. Apparently he was getting desperate. I don't think he really cares for mice." "Why, that's like a Ouija board!" "It gives me the creeps," said Qwilleran. "Ever since the mystery in Muggy Swamp, he's been flushing out words that point to G. Verning Tait, like bald and sacroiliac. He picked sacroiliac twice in one game, and that's quite a coincidence in a dictionary with three thousand pages." "Is Mr. Tait bald?" "Not a hair on his head. He also suffers from a back ailment…. Do you know what a koolokamba is?" Cokey shook her head.

"It's an ape with a bald head and black hands. Koko dredged that one up, too." "Black hands! That's poetic symbolism," Coker said. "Can you think of any more?" "Not every word pertains to the situation. Sometimes it's visceripericardial or calorifacient. But one day he found two significant words on one page: rubeola and ruddiness. Tait has a florid complexion, I might add." "Oh, Qwill, that cat's really tuned in!" Coker said. "I'm sure he's on the right track. Can you do anything about it?" "Hardly." Qwillerau looked dejected. "I can't go to the police and tell them my cat suspects the scion of a fine old family…. Still, there's another possibility…." "What's that?" "It may be," said Qwilleran, "that the police suspect Tait, too, and they're publishing the houseboy theory as a cover-up."

19

Qwilleran arrived home from Cokey's apartment earlier than he had expected. Cokey had chased him out. She said they both had to work the next day, and she had to fix her hair and iron a blouse.

When he arrived at the Villa Verandah, Koko greeted him with a table-hopping routine that ended on the desk.

The red light on the telephone was glowing. The phone had been ringing, Koko seemed to be saying, and no one had been there to answer.

Qwilleran dialed the switchboard.

"Mr. Bunsen called you at nine o'clock," the operator told him. "He said to call him at home if you came in before one A.M." Qwilleran consulted his watch. It was not yet midnight, and he started to dial Bunsen's number. Then he changed his mind. He decided Cokey was right about the importance of image. He decided it would not hurt to enhance his own image — the enviable one of a bachelor carousing until the small hours of the morning.

Qwilleran emptied his coat pockets, draped his coat on a chair back, and sat down at the desk to browse through the Tait file of newspaper clippings. Koko watched, lounging on the desk top in a classic pose known to lions and tigers, curving his tail around a Swedish crystal paperweight.

The newsprint was in varying shades of yellow and brown, depending on the age of the news item. Each was rubber-stamped with the date of publication. It was hardly necessary to read the stamp; outmoded typefaces, as well as mellowed paper, gave a clue to the date.

First Qwilleran shuffled through the clippings hastily, hoping to spot a lurid headline. Finding none in a cursory search, he started to read systematically: three generations of Tait history in chronological disorder.

Five years ago Tait had given a talk at a meeting of the Lapidary Society. Eleven years ago his father had died.

There was a lengthy feature on the Tait Manufacturing Company, apparently one of a series on family-owned firms of long standing; organized in 1883 for the manufacture of buggy whips, the company was now producing car radio antennas. Old society clippings showed the elder Taits at the opera or charity functions. Three years ago G. Verning Tait announced his intention of manufacturing antennas that looked like buggy whips. A year later a news item stated that the Tait plant had closed and bankruptcy proceedings were being instituted.