I had just finished my bowl of Wheaties, the breakfast of champions, and my first cup of coffee, when Mother Nature called.
I was only half through reading the paper and was definitely wanting a second cup of Joe, but I’ve found it’s not wise to ignore Mother Nature.
I left the paper spread out on the kitchen table and headed to our second bathroom. Thankfully, we have two. Maggie was showering in the other one and I was sure she would prefer I conduct my business as far away as possible.
Mission accomplished, I returned to the kitchen and found Clarence sitting on Ned Yost’s face in the sports section.
Not cool, I thought. Gotta put a stop to this.
“Ixnay on the abletay,” I said. I didn’t know if Clarence understood Pig Latin, but it was the only animal language I knew.
He didn’t budge, so I figured he wasn’t multi-linguistic.
“Beat it!” I said, giving him a gentle pat on the butt.
He gave me a disgusted look and hopped down just as Maggie entered the room.
“What’s going on with you two?” she asked as Clarence rubbed against her leg undoubtedly looking for support.
“Your cat was on the table, squatting on my sports page.”
“MY cat! Don’t you mean OUR cat?”
Not wanting to start something I couldn’t finish, I rephrased my comment.
“Of course, Darling. Our cat. Anyway, he was on the table.”
“The poor thing was probably hungry. Can’t you see his food dish is empty?”
At that moment, I made another grievous error. “I thought food and water was your department.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Walt. What would it take --- thirty seconds to pour some Friskies in his bowl?”
I was about to defend myself and probably make another error in judgement when I was saved by a knock on our door.
It was my dad and Bernice from apartments 3 and 4 on the second floor of our building.
“Hi Guys. You’re up and about early. What can we do for you?”
“Walt! We need your help. Just a few minutes ago Bernice got a call from ---!”
About that time Clarence strolled into the room.
“Holy crap!” Dad exclaimed. “Walt has a cat!”
“A hat?” Bernice asked, puzzled. “I don’t see any hat.”
Evidently Bernice wasn’t wearing her hearing aids.
“No, not a hat! A cat!” he repeated, pointing. “Walt, what about your iron-clad no pets rule?”
“We don’t actually have a cat,” I replied. “He’s just a temporary house guest until we can find him a home.”
At that moment, Jerry, our resident comedian from apartment #2 on the first floor came bounding up the stairs. “What’s all the commotion?”
“Walt’s got a cat!” Dad announced for the third time.
That was all Jerry needed. “I love cats,” he gushed. “There are sooo many cat jokes. What makes a cat smell good? Purrrr-fume. How do cats make coffee? In a purrrr-colator. I’ve got a million more!”
“STOP! NO MORE! For the last time, this is not my cat!”
Jerry grinned. “Methinks he protests too much. It sure looks like his cat.”
Clarence was rubbing against my leg, probably just trying to embarrass me and piss me off.
“Forget the cat.” I turned to Dad. “You were about to say something about a call to Bernice.”
“Oh, yeah. The call. Some guy called claiming to be from the IRS, and is trying to scam Bernice out of eighteen hundred bucks. Tell him, Honey.”
Bernice related her story. “I just can’t believe he’s a crook. Such a nice young man on the phone.”
“He’s a crook all right,” I replied. “I’ll give Dan Block in the Economic Crimes Section a call. They handle stuff like this, identity theft, check fraud, and telephone rip-offs. He’ll know what to do.”
I called Dan and shared Bernice’s conversation with the con man.
“Dan’s coming right over,” I said, hanging up. “We’re going to set up a sting and nail this creep.”
“Oh goody!” Bernice said, clapping her hands. “Just like on TV. I’d better get busy. I promised Mr. Livingston I’d bake some cookies.”
An hour later, Dan Block was in Bernice’s apartment.
“All you have to do is exactly what you promised. When Livingston knocks, invite him in and offer him a cookie. He’ll ask for the check which you’ll have ready to go.”
“But it won’t be any good!” Bernice protested. “I don’t have that much money in the bank.”
Dan could see he had his hands full. “You won’t actually be paying him, Dear. As soon as he takes the check, we’ll arrest him. He’ll never cash your check.”
“Then I’ll get it back?”
“No, we’ll have to keep it as evidence for his trial, but I promise it will never be cashed.”
“Thank goodness for that! I don’t want to be overdrawn. They get nasty about that down at the bank. How will you know when he takes the check?”
“You’ll be wearing a wire and we’ll be upstairs in Walt’s apartment listening.”
“A wire?” she asked grinning. “Just like the spies wear on TV?”
“Yes, Bernice, you’re going to be a spy. How about we give you a code name? How’s 007 sound?”
“Perfect! Just like James Bond.”
“Good, let’s get you hooked up. If you don’t mind, I need to hook this little mike to your bra and run some wires to a battery pack in the back. Is that okay.”
“Heck, yes! Hook it to anything you want.”
Dad was watching with great interest. “Pretty cool job. Hookin’ stuff up to women’s bras.”
“It’s not as glamorous as it might appear,” Dan replied.
“Especially not today,” Dad said, snickering. “Bernice’s boobs hang like a couple of windsocks on a calm day.”
Bernice gave him a look of disgust. “Never heard you complaining about ‘em before.”
“That’s not a complaint,” Dad replied. “Just an observation.”
“All done,” Dan said, ending the banter between the aging lovers.
“So what now?” Bernice asked.
“Just go about your business,” Dan replied. “Bake your cookies and relax. Nothing happens now until three o’clock.”
At two-thirty, Dan checked the reception from Bernice’s mike, and we settled in to wait for our perp.
At precisely three o’clock, Livingston pulled up in front of the building. He looked up and down the street, and seeing nothing unusual, entered the building. There was a pause during which time he was probably looking on the mailboxes for Bernice’s apartment number.
We heard him ascend the stairs and knock.
“Mr. Livingston. Come in. You’re right on time.”
“Thank you Ms. Crenshaw.”
“Oh, please! Call me Bernice. Have a seat. I’ll bring you a cookie.”
“Thank you very much, but just one. I can’t stay long. I have several stops to make.”
“I understand. I’m sure the IRS keeps you real busy.”
Bernice was playing her part like a pro.
“Still warm. Just came out of the oven.”
“Thank you. Now about the check. Do you have it?”
“Sure do. Eighteen hundred, made out to cash just like you asked. I sure thank you for waiving that penalty. Here you are. Do I get a receipt or something?”
“Absolutely! Let me put this away and I’ll write one for you.”
“There it is!” Dan said. “He’s got the check.” He spoke into his mike. “All right, boys. Take him!”
Three uniformed officers who had been in Dad’s apartment across the hall burst into the room, subduing the perp.
Dan and I arrived at the scene just in time to see Bernice confront the con artist.
“Thought you could scam an old lady, didn’t you, punk? Well guess what? Just because we’re old doesn’t mean we’re stupid. I’ll bet
your mother would be real proud of you right now. In fact, since she’s not here to take you down a notch, I just might do it for her.”
Bernice swung her leg like an NFL punter and planted her foot between his legs.
Livingston crumpled and moaned.
Bernice’s cookies might have been warm, but I was betting Livingston’s would be bruised and swollen.
“Don’t mess with 007!” Bernice declared, stalking away.
Jake looked at the gizmo Hector Lopez had placed in his hands. “So how does this thing work?”
“It’s a VHF receiver,” Hector replied. “If your cat has a VHF transmitter implanted, the receiver will pick up its location. Depending on the strength of the signal, it will probably have a range of maybe half a mile. Tell me again why you’re trying to find this cat.”
“Uhhh,” Jake hedged, not wanting Hector to know about the $200,000. “The cat belongs to a good friend. He ran away. We’re just trying to help.”
“Right!” Hector replied, obviously not buying Jake’s story. “Must be a real good friend. How about I come with you? I can operate the receiver while you drive.”
“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,” Jake replied a little too quickly. “You’ve done enough. Marcus can drive and I think I can manage the receiver.”
“Whatever you say,” Hector said, smiling. “Good luck. Hope you find your friend’s cat.”
Safely in their car, Marcus asked, “Do you think Hector bought your story?”
“Doesn’t matter. We’ve got the receiver. Let’s find that cat.”
“Where should we start? This is a big city and Hector said that thing only had a half mile range.”
“I say let’s start at Forsythe’s house. The cat was probably there hiding and we just didn’t see him. Maybe he’s still lurking around somewhere.”
“Sounds good to me.”
They pulled up in front of the bungalow on Brookside and Jake fiddled with the receiver.
“Nothing. No signal. The cat’s not here.”
“Maybe she took him,” Marcus said, pointing to a real estate sign in the front yard. “Maggie Williams with City Wide Realty. There’s a phone number. Shall I give her a call?”
“And say what? Did you find a cat and if so, we want him?”
“Yeah,” Marcus replied. “I guess that wouldn’t go over very well.”
“I have an idea,” Jake said, pulling out his cell phone. “I’ll Google her. Maybe we can get a home address.”
He fiddled with his phone a few minutes. “Got her! Well damn! I gotta pay ninety-nine cents to get her address!”
“Sounds pretty cheap since we’re after two hundred grand.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Pause.
“Got it! Armour Boulevard. Let’s go!”
Ten minutes later, they were on Armour Boulevard searching for the house number.
“Should be just ahead,” Marcus said. “Whoa! There it is, but look at all the cop cars. I wonder what’s going on.”
They pulled to the curb and watched as three uniformed officers emerged from the building with a man in handcuffs.
“Good news and bad news,” Jake said, looking at the VHF receiver. “I got a signal, so the cat’s here, but no way we’re sticking around with all those cops.”
“Guess we’ll come back tomorrow when things quiet down,” Marcus replied.
“You bet!” Jake replied, pulling into the traffic lane. “As soon as we grab that cat, we’ll be in business.”
It had been a trying, but satisfying day, having captured Bernice’s con man. I was looking forward to a quiet evening with Maggie, but one phone call changed everything.
“Walt, I have to go to the office for an hour or so to meet with some out-of-town buyers. I’ll grab a sandwich somewhere. Do you think the two of you can manage while I’m gone?”
Clarence was non-committal, but I put on a brave face.
“Sure, we’ll be fine. I’ll order a pizza. Hurry home and be safe.”
As soon as she was out of the door, I called Domino’s and ordered a meat-lovers special. They promised delivery within thirty minutes or it was free. I watched the clock, hoping for a freebie, but they made it with four minutes to spare.
I opened the box on the coffee table in front of the TV, planning to watch a rerun of Two and a Half Men while snarfing pizza and swigging a glass of Arbor Mist.
I had just plopped into my easy chair when the phone rang. It was Ox. With all the day’s excitement, I had forgotten I had asked Ox to look into the Forsythe murder file.
“Hang on a minute. Let me go the office and get something to write with.”
I was probably gone fifteen minutes taking notes. I returned to the living room, and to my horror, Clarence was knee deep in my meat lovers pizza. Our eyes met, and his expression said, “Oh crap! I’m busted!”
His whiskers and his paws were covered with tomato sauce and melted mozzarella. Knowing he was in deep doodoo, he took off across the room leaving red footprints on the carpet.
“Damn!” I muttered, looking at the mess. “I’d better get this cleaned up before Maggie gets back.”
I figured cleaning Clarence was my first chore. As long as he was coated with tomato sauce, he would be tracking the red goo all over the place.
I went into the bathroom and ran a tub full of water. Dutifully, I tested the temperature with my elbow just as I’d seen some mother do on TV. It seemed about right.
I found Clarence in the kitchen, lapping water from his bowl.
“Okay cat. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
He cowered as I picked him up, probably expecting some sort of punishment for his indiscretion, but at that moment, I was more interested in hiding the evidence of our unfortunate episode.
I carried him to the bathroom and was about to lower him into the water when all hell broke loose.
His eyes bulged out, he unsheathed his claws, and all four of his legs started swiveling like a samurai windmill.
It scared the crap out of me. Not wanting to be disemboweled, I dropped him in the tub. He hissed and cried out, paddling like his ass was on fire. A moment later, he found his footing and leaped out of the tub.
I started after him and found him in the living room cowering behind Maggie’s legs.
Now it was my turn to say, “Busted!”
“What in heaven’s name is going on here?” Maggie demanded, surveying the remains of the pizza, the tell-tale tracks and the shivering cat. “Can’t I leave you two alone even for a minute?”
“It was all his fault” I said, pointing to the cat.
“Really!” she said with disgust. “What are you, twelve?”
“Look, I had just got my pizza when the phone rang. When I came back into the room, Mr. Pizza Thief was snarfing my meat lovers. Then he tracked sauce all over the house. See the tracks? Anyway, I figured I’d better give him a bath. That didn’t go so well, and here we are.”
“You tried to give Clarence a bath?” she exclaimed with disbelief. “Cats hate water. They’re perfectly capable of cleaning themselves.”
“How was I to know? He didn’t exactly come with a feline instruction manual.”
“Good grief,” she muttered, bending down to pick up the cat. “Poor baby. Come to momma.”
She left me standing in the living room wondering how a cat got me in the dog house!
CHAPTER 5
When I awoke the next morning, I figured the day would have to be better than the one before.
Maggie had spent the rest of the evening toweling, blow drying, and comforting the cat, while I went through the house cleaning up pizza tracks.
When I finally hit the hay, I was hungry, but I wasn’t about to eat the pizza after Clarence had pawed in it. I’d heard somewhere that pets get worms and I certainly didn’t want that.
I climbed out of bed eager to start the day fresh, hoping Maggie had forgiven me for my blundering attempt to wash the cat.
I
showered, dried, and headed to the closet to dress.
Something didn’t smell right.
I looked around and, to my utter disgust, found a cat turd draped across the toe of my shoe.
“MAGGIE! Clarence crapped on my shoe!”
When Maggie arrived and took stock of the situation, I figured she would be as shocked as I was.
“Just curious,” she said, trying to stifle a smile. “By any chance did you forget to clean out the litter box?”
With all the excitement of the day before, the cat’s toilet was the farthest thing from my mind.
“Guess so,” I replied, sheepishly.
“Then I’m not surprised Clarence left you a message.”
“Message? That pile of poo was a message?”
“Of course. Cats can’t talk. They can’t write, so they think of other ways to communicate with their owners.” She grinned. “Pretty effective I’d say. Bet you won’t forget his box again.”
“We’re not his owners!”
“You know what I mean. Just clean off your shoe, clean out the litter box, and everything will be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mumbled under my breath.
Maggie headed back to the kitchen with Clarence trailing along behind, but as he was leaving the room, he turned and gave me a look.
I would swear he was mocking me.
After cleaning my shoe and the litter box, I was in no mood for breakfast.
“I’ll just have a cup of coffee,” I said watching Maggie pour Friskies and clean water in Clarence’s bowls. “Then I think I’ll give your brother a call. Ox called last night before the pizza fiasco, and filled me in on what the cops were doing with Byron Forsythe’s murder. What’s your day like?”
“I’m showing houses to out-of-town buyers all day. Why are you digging around in Byron’s murder? Aren’t the police handling everything?”
“Just curious. I’m intrigued by this treasure thing.”
“Unless I’m mistaken, there’s nothing to suggest that there ever was a treasure. The police found nothing and his nephew, Reggie, said Byron’s life had been filled with one wild goose chase after another.”
[Lady Justice 26] - Lady Justice and the Cat Page 3
