Whisker of Evil

by Rita Mae Brown

  Blood flew everywhere. From Tavener’s face, from his left hand, from Harry’s face where he’d managed to dig his nails into her flesh.

  Fair, running harder than he’d ever run in his life, reached the edge of the grave and launched himself in. He closed both huge hands around Tavener’s right hand, then snapped Tavener’s arm over his knee. The gun fell to the ground when the forearm broke like a matchstick.

  Harry, exhausted, rolled back against the edge of the grave. Fair picked up the gun, tossing it to Cooper.

  Harry reached for her cats and dog. She couldn’t speak. Fair understood and lifted out Tucker, then gently placed Mrs. Murphy in Harry’s arms while he held Pewter.

  Tavener moaned, struggled to his feet. Fair placed Pewter on the edge of the grave, walked over, and kicked Tavener so hard he went down face-first, spitting teeth.

  “I’ll kill you!”

  “Fair, leave him,” Cooper firmly commanded.

  Fair, eyes wild, advanced on Tavener.

  Harry managed to choke out, “Don’t,” as she put Mrs. Murphy at the grave’s edge and climbed out herself.

  “Come on, Fair. Think of the legal fees,” Cooper sarcastically said, while the animals looked on.

  With tremendous effort, Fair backed away. He was shaking so hard that Mrs. Murphy was afraid he’d come apart at the seams.

  Bill Langston, Blair Bainbridge, and Paul de Silva were next on the scene. Paul and Bill jumped into the grave.

  Blair stood over Tavener just in case. Cooper, immobile, never took her gun off him.

  Fair swung out of the grave, then broke down, sobbing, “I thought I’d lost you,” as Harry put her arms around him.

  Tucker leaned against Fair’s leg as Pewter rubbed his other leg. Mrs. Murphy rubbed against Harry’s leg.

  Pewter walked to the grave, looked down at the crumpled Tavener. “Humans are no match for cats,” she taunted him, then thought a moment and added, “and corgis.”

  It was then that the stunned humans, coming back together, saw Carmen Gamble in their midst, shaking a fist at Tavener.

  “Scum!” Carmen spat.

  52

  Multicolored Japanese lanterns waved over the quad at St. Luke’s Church on July 17. The thirtieth anniversary of the Reverend Herbert C. Jones’s ministry brought out everyone to honor the good man. Given the recent events, it felt like a new beginning. Better times were ahead.

  Herb had been given many presents, but his favorite was the big hand-painted sign of Cazenovia and Elocution with halos over their heads.

  Speeches made—Herb’s being particularly touching—the celebrants settled into wonderful food, ice-cold drinks, and spicy conversation.

  Mrs. Murphy, Elocution, Pewter, and Cazenovia lazed on the podium now that the humans had vacated it. The cats liked being above everyone.

  Tucker remained at Harry’s round table, along with Fair, Susan and Ned, Cooper and Miranda, Paul de Silva and Tazio Chappars. Since Brinkley remained at the table, too, Tucker enjoyed some bracing dog talk. Carmen managed to sit through the speeches, but the minute they were over she was table-hopping.

  Big Mim, Jim, Aunt Tally, Alicia, Little Mim, Blair, and Herb sat at the table next to Harry’s. These tables were up front by the podium.

  The recent uproar dominated conversation.

  “Rick is really good. He could be police chief in a big city if he wanted to.” Cooper praised her boss, also at the party. “For five days we couldn’t crack Tavener. He wouldn’t open his mouth. You know how Rick finally cracked him?”

  “No,” everyone replied.

  “He brought in a photograph of Tavener’s mother. All he said was, ‘She didn’t raise you to kill people.’ That did it. He gushed like a fountain.”

  The people at Herb’s table pulled their chairs closer to listen.

  “So he, not Marshall Kressenberg, killed Mary Pat?” Big Mim inquired.

  Cooper nodded affirmatively. “He was in love with her. He told the truth about that. He begged her and begged her, and one evening he grabbed her down at the barns. He thought no one was around. He was wrong. He kissed her and she pushed him away. He grabbed her again; she hit him. He lost it and strangled her. Marshall Kressenberg, who had been up in the hayloft, witnessed the whole thing.”

  “He could have helped her!” Alicia was aghast.

  “Chicken.” Cooper shrugged. “Or maybe he saw his chance. We’ll know his side of the story when we extradite him back to the States.”

  “And then they dragged her up to the high pastures?” Harry felt so sorry for Mary Pat.

  “Threw her in the pickup truck. It rained that night, washing out their tracks. They buried her at the corner of the stone wall. Then Tavener had the bright idea to bring up Ziggy Flame. They’d be missing together. While Tavener walked up Ziggy Flame, Marshall walked up a mare so Ziggy wouldn’t jump out of the pasture. Since Tavener was Mary Pat’s vet and Marshall worked at the barns, no one doubted their word about the number of mares on the farm. They thought only Ziggy was missing. Also, mares were going in and out of St. James daily to be bred. That part was easy.”

  “When did they move Ziggy to Maryland?”

  “When Marshall left. Tavener dyed him. Showed Marshall how to do it. Tavener falsified all the papers.”

  “And made a fortune.” Fair knew Tavener had done these terrible things, but he couldn’t reconcile this behavior with the colleague he’d worked with and liked for years.

  “Why kill Barry and—maybe I’m jumping the gun—Sugar?”

  Everyone leaned forward, quiet.

  “Barry found both Mary Pat’s diary and her breeding notes. She’d hidden them behind a loose board in the tack room at the biggest barn. Why we’ll never know, except that she really didn’t have much privacy, I suppose. Servants everywhere. I don’t know. Do you?” Cooper looked at Alicia.

  “She probably wanted her breeding notes at the barn. That’s where she did her work. And the diary, maybe she didn’t want me to find it. I don’t think the servants snooped, but I did.” Alicia cast her eyes downward.

  “Barry read the notes and the diaries. He put two and two together, since there were many references to Tavener’s declarations of love and his desires to go into the thoroughbred business with Mary Pat. Tavener managed to find the diary in Barry’s things. He burned it as soon as he got his hands on it, but he couldn’t find Mary Pat’s breeding notes with Barry’s stuff. Barry did a better job of hiding those, probably because they meant more to him.”

  “But what about the rabies? People have been crazy about that. Did the men really have it?” Blair asked.

  “That’s the terrible part.” Cooper looked toward Blair. “Tavener gave it to Barry and Sugar. Barry had been blackmailing him. Maybe graymailing is a better word, because Tavener confessed that Barry didn’t make threats. Suggestions, not threats. Lots of business suggestions. Then Tavener would come through with the money. Barry put most of it in the business. We think he kept some for himself—he bought a new truck, anyway. Sugar, who kept the books, didn’t know where this money was coming from, and he finally got mad enough at Barry that Barry just said he had something on Tavener. We don’t know if he told Sugar everything, but Tavener wasn’t taking any chances. Even if Barry hadn’t told Sugar, it was possible Sugar might figure out some things in time.”

  “How?” Aunt Tally simply asked.

  “Shots. He told the guys he’d give them their rabies vaccine free. It’s expensive and anyone who works with animals for a living ought to have it. He gave them a live virus, not a killed one. And since it generally takes so long to develop, they felt fine.”

  “I’d like to add here that veterinarians do not usually work on humans,” Fair mentioned.

  “No, but you can if you have to. Vets work with humans during emergencies,” Big Mim said.

  “You’d think Barry would be suspicious.” Aunt Tally said, sharp as a tack about Barry. “After all, Tavener was forking over money to hi
m.”

  “Tavener acted like their best friend. He did a lot of work gratis. I know Fair did, too. Tavener gave them all their equine medications for free. He said that took discipline. He had to act as though he was enthusiastic about their business, liked them, acted like a mentor.”

  Susan observed the loudly dressed Carmen. “And she was in danger, too?”

  “A slip of the tongue.” Cooper smiled. “She mentioned to Tavener when he was in her shop that Barry showed her the diaries. When Jerome was killed it slowly dawned on her that, with Barry’s nosing around, this might have something to do with the horses.”

  “And?” Harry tapped the edge of her glass.

  “I took her to my house and told her not to show her face. The hardest part was cleaning up after Ruffie since he couldn’t go outside.” Cooper laughed. “The hardest part for Carmen was knowing her family and the gang at work had to be frantic.”

  “So you were on to Tavener?” Fair was still surprised at the turn of events.

  “Mmm, getting close, but Rick and I just didn’t have enough.”

  “But why didn’t Tavener wait for the rabies to kill Barry?” Harry asked.

  “Barry pushed too hard. Tavener said Barry wanted an extra hundred thousand dollars to buy more broodmares. So Tavener asked Barry to meet him down past St. James’s entrance gates. He told Barry not to tell Sugar if Sugar was there. As it turned out, Sugar was in town.

  “So Barry met him, and as Tavener wrote out the check he offered Barry a drink from his flask. Loaded with Quaaludes and bourbon.”

  “What would he have done if Barry hadn’t taken a drink?” Fair wondered.

  “Shot him, I guess. But Barry did take a drink. They chatted. When Barry started to fade out, Tavener drove down the road, turned up one of the farm paths. He stopped, hauled out Barry, and carried him to the creek, then walked downstream until his strength gave out. He dumped him, slashed up his throat with a serrated knife. He did a pretty good job of mimicking an animal bite, but Tavener overlooked the fact that the lack of saliva would be a tip-off that this wasn’t a natural death. So he felt safe. He thought he’d be able to pull off Sugar’s murder, too, and close the door forever on this. Harry found Barry shortly thereafter.”

  “Luckily, I didn’t see Tavener, or he would have slashed my throat.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Barry was young and strong. He lasted longer than most people.” Cooper rested her hand on the table edge.

  “The ring?” Alicia asked.

  Cooper shrugged. “He swears neither he nor Barry had it.”

  “Fate,” Big Mim said.

  “And Jerome?” Little Mim, who’d found Jerome, would not soon forget.

  “Tavener lured Jerome out. Given Jerome’s ego and excitement, that was easy. He told him he could show him how to collect the live rabies virus. He said he’d just found an injured animal by the road, which he believed was rabid.”

  “Jerome didn’t suspect Tavener?” Fair thought Jerome wouldn’t have trusted Tavener at this point.

  “Jerome, like us at the time, was focusing on Marshall Kressenberg. Tavener had been helpful; none of us suspected anyone so close to our community. Jerome didn’t, either. And Jerome’s curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to see Tavener collect the live virus. He’d told Tavener and others how someone could be killed, remember?”

  “Flu shots.” Fair exhaled.

  “Told me. Questioned medical people,” Bill Langston added.

  “Poor Jerome. He couldn’t resist showing off what he knew.” Susan pitied him.

  “Well, they met on the road. Jerome didn’t have time to get out of the car. Tavener shot him with a gun bought at a gun show, a used gun. No papers. Then he disposed of it. He was bold and arrogant. He still thought he could get away with it.”

  “He was clever.” Alicia’s eyebrows came together in disgust.

  “Clever, and he relied on being a pillar of the community,” Cooper said. “He was protected by position. In fact, if Barry hadn’t found Mary Pat’s diary and breeding notes, none of this would have happened.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat,” Little Mim said. “Two cats, Barry and Jerome. It seems to me like Sugar paid for Barry and Jerome’s curiosity.”

  “Thank God for my two cats!” Harry beamed. “And Tucker. Or else I think curiosity would have gotten this cat”—she pointed to herself—“too.”

  “You’re very lucky.” Alicia smiled. “Mary Pat’s ring protected you. She wanted us to find her. I really believe that and now she’s at peace.”

  “I believe that, too,” Cooper said surprisingly. “But because of one man’s lust and greed, four people are resting—we hope—in peace but long before their time.”

  “But it was their time.” Paul, usually quiet, spoke up. “When the Lord wants you, it’s your time, no matter how it looks to us.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Tazio smiled, “but it’s all sordid and shocking.”

  “Dreadful,” Big Mim pronounced judgment.

  “Do not think to repay evil for evil, wait for the Lord to deliver you.” Miranda quoted from Proverbs, Chapter 20, Verse 22.

  “I’m supposed to be the Bible-quoter here,” Herb teased.

  “Well, nobody does it better than you.” Miranda raised her glass to Herb.

  They toasted the good reverend and switched to happier subjects.

  Harry, who rarely drank, sipped champagne in honor of Herb. Her normally sharp senses had been dulled by her own predicament. She felt if she were on top of her game she would have somehow figured out Tavener was in on this. She figured it out at the end and nearly got shot for it. She couldn’t control her impulses. She blurted out everything at the grave site, heedless of the consequences.

  She would give her future some hard, clear thought. She hated being muddled. But whenever she’d think about what she wanted to do, all that came to mind was a big question mark.

  Harry thought to herself, what was the Bible quote that Miranda would say on the days when Miranda’s arthritis kicked up? “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.” Ah, yes. Well, perhaps the Good Lord would strengthen her weak mind.

  She slipped her hand through Fair’s and watched the fireflies come out to compete with the Japanese lanterns.

  On the dais, the cats, filled with delicious food, observed the humans.

  “Do you ever get tired of Herb’s sermons?” Pewter asked Elocution and Cazenovia.

  “No. We like to help him.” Elocution lay on her side, her tail lazily waving to and fro.

  “He gives good sermons, but all this life-after-death stuff—I don’t know,” Pewter said.

  “I believe in life before death.” Mrs. Murphy smiled.

  Dear Reader,

  I’ve had my rabies shots, my annual FVR-CP shots, which cover just about everything a kitty can get. I endure worming once a month. Large ugh. My teeth are good.

  I mention this because much of this book is about health.

  Pewter also gets all her shots and is a big weenie about it. The dogs, on the other hand, are pretty good.

  I hope you’ve taken care of your shots and teeth and whatever a human needs to do. Expensive though it is, it’s still not as expensive as being sick.

  As I’ve gone along with this series I’ve found that I truly love the characters. Funny, isn’t it? I mean I even like the corgi and, well, dogs are okay but a cat can’t be but so close to them. They’re just so slavish! If I have to admit it, I like the dogs here at home, a motley crew of rescue mixes as well as Mother’s foxhounds, her pride and joy.

  Now, I adore the horses but cats and horses have a special friendship.

  Whoever you are reading this, I hope you have an animal in your life that you can tell everything to and know it won’t go any further. We make the best friends—just be sure we get our shots, okay?

  Always and ever,

  Sneaky Pie

  Books by Rita Mae Brown
r />   with Sneaky Pie Brown

  WISH YOU WERE HERE

  REST IN PIECES

  MURDER AT MONTICELLO

  PAY DIRT

  MURDER, SHE MEOWED

  MURDER ON THE PROWL

  CAT ON THE SCENT

  SNEAKY PIE’S COOKBOOK FOR MYSTERY LOVERS

  PAWING THROUGH THE PAST

  CLAWS AND EFFECT

  CATCH AS CAT CAN

  THE TAIL OF THE TIP-OFF

  WHISKER OF EVIL

  Books by Rita Mae Brown

  THE HAND THAT CRADLES THE ROCK

  SONGS TO A HANDSOME WOMAN

  THE PLAIN BROWN RAPPER

  RUBYFRUIT JUNGLE

  IN HER DAY

  SIX OF ONE

  SOUTHERN DISCOMFORT

  SUDDEN DEATH

  HIGH HEARTS

  STARTING FROM SCRATCH: A DIFFERENT KIND OF WRITERS’ MANUAL

  BINGO

  VENUS ENVY

  DOLLEY: A NOVEL OF DOLLEY MADISON IN LOVE AND WAR

  RIDING SHOTGUN

  RITA WILL: A MEMOIR OF A LITERARY RABBLE-ROUSER

  LOOSE LIPS

  OUTFOXED

  HOTSPUR

  FULL CRY

  WHISKER OF EVIL

  A Bantam Book / April 2004

  Published by

  Bantam Dell

  A Division of Random House, Inc.

  New York, New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2004 by American Artists, Inc.

  Illustrations copyright © 2004 Michael Gellatly

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

  Bantam Books is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.