“A torch?” she echoed. “We call them flashlights in America, although I’m not sure why, as they don’t flash.”
Daniel grinned at her. “One day we should make a list of all the words we don’t have in common.”
“There are hundreds or maybe even thousands,” she replied.
She watched as Daniel dashed across the road into his house. He was back only a moment later, carrying two large flashlights. Daniel handed her a light and then they split up to walk slowly around the house.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty,” Fenella called softly as she went. A large black cat raced toward her as she turned the corner around the garage. Fenella gave the animal a pat, relieved to find that it was wearing a collar. “You should get yourself off home,” she said. “It’s raining.”
The cat purred for a moment and then dashed away, while Fenella continued on her quest. She and Daniel met in the middle of the backyard.
“Nothing?” he asked.
“I met a lovely black cat who needed a bit of love, but that was all.”
“If your kitten did get out, we may have to wait until morning to try to find it,” Daniel told her. They walked together back around to the front of the house. Fenella heard a noise from under a bush near the door.
“What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” Daniel said.
Fenella crouched down with her flashlight, searching the bush for signs of life. Daniel did his best to help, but neither of them could see anything. The rain was getting harder and Fenella was starting to shiver when the police car pulled up in front of the house.
“We’re in trouble now,” Daniel chuckled as a young constable climbed out of the car.
“Good evening,” he called to the constable who was approaching them with his own flashlight in hand.
“Good evening,” the constable replied. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re searching for a lost kitten,” Daniel replied. “I’m Inspector Daniel Robinson, Douglas CID. I don’t know that we’ve met.”
The young man looked surprised and then suspicious. “Inspector Robinson?” he repeated. “Do you have any identification on you?”
Daniel patted his pockets and then shook his head. “It’s all at home. I just live across the street,” he explained, nodding toward his house.
“Who’s your friend?” the constable asked.
“This is Fenella Woods. She owns this house and it’s her kitten that’s lost.”
“It’s a stray, actually.” Fenella felt the need to disclaim ownership of the animal. “I found the mother cat and four kittens this morning, and now one of them has disappeared.”
“You were the one who found the animals on the promenade this morning,” the constable said. “I heard about that.”
“I suspect everyone on the island has heard about it,” Daniel laughed. “It caused quite a bit of excitement this morning.”
“Yes, sir,” the constable agreed.
“I assume one of the neighbors rang in about people walking around one of the houses with torches,” Daniel said. “It’s good to know that our neighbors are keeping an eye on things.”
“Yes, well, I’m really supposed to see identification,” the constable said hesitantly.
“Mine is in the house,” Fenella replied. “I don’t have anything with this address on it, though. I’m only staying here temporarily while I’m looking after the cats.”
The constable frowned. “You can’t prove you have the right to be in the house?” he asked.
“You can call Doncan Quayle and talk to him,” Fenella suggested. “He’s my advocate and he keeps track of all of my properties.”
“All of your properties?” the man echoed.
“I inherited a lot from my Aunt Mona,” Fenella explained.
The constable nodded. “You’re Mona’s niece. I should have recognized the name. I didn’t realize that Mona owned any houses in this neighborhood.”
“Come inside with us and check Fenella’s identification,” Daniel told him. “I’ll pop home and get mine as well. We need to do everything by the book.”
The young man nodded and looked relieved. Fenella led him into the house. She peeled off her coat, which was soaked through and then hung it on a convenient hook. The constable did the same with his. Hoping that the floors would be okay with the amount of water now dripping onto them, Fenella showed the constable into the living room. Her handbag was sitting on the end of one of the couches.
“I’m sure I have my driver’s license in here somewhere,” she said, digging through the bag. She found her wallet and then her license. The constable took a good long look at it and then pulled out a notebook.
“I’m just going to make a note of this, if you don’t mind,” he said.
“Not at all.”
He handed her the card back and she returned it to her wallet. Daniel returned as she dropped the wallet back into her bag.
“Here you are,” he said, handing the constable his own driver’s license as well as his police identification card. The constable made notes about both of them and then gave them back.
“As you’re a police inspector, I’m not going to worry about anyone proving that they have the right to be here,” he said. “I’m satisfied with your story about the missing kitten. How many did you say you’re meant to have?”
“One mother cat and four kittens,” Fenella replied.
“Maybe I should ring Mr. Quayle,” the constable said. “There appear to be four kittens safely tucked up in that playpen.”
Fenella and Daniel both crossed to the playpen. “Where did the fourth kitten come from?” Fenella demanded. “He or she couldn’t possibly have climbed into the playpen without help.”
“Maybe you miscounted them when you put them in,” Daniel suggested.
“We’d had some wine, but not enough to make me forget how to count to four,” Fenella retorted. “Maybe one of them slipped through the bars.”
Daniel looked at the kittens and then at the playpen’s bars. To Fenella’s eyes it seemed very unlikely that any of the kittens were small enough to squeeze through, but that seemed to be the only possible answer.
“I’ll find you Doncan’s number,” Fenella said as she turned back to the constable.
He shook his head. “The look of shock on both of your faces was enough to convince me that you really did think you’d lost one of the kittens. I’ll ring your concerned neighbor back and assure her that everything is fine.”
“Thank you,” Daniel said. He walked the constable to the door while Fenella took another look at the sleeping animals. Even all squashed together in a big pile, they were easy to count, and there were clearly four kittens in the pile.
“Maybe I’m losing my mind,” she muttered to herself.
“If you are, I’m in trouble, too,” Daniel told her. “I would have sworn on my mother’s life that there were only three kittens in that playpen when we went outside.”
“We wouldn’t have been stomping around in the rain otherwise.”
“Exactly.”
An awkward silence descended as Fenella shifted her weight back and forth and tried to think of something to say.
“I’m going to get home, then,” Daniel said eventually. “Maybe we could talk again on Tuesday. I’ll be interested to hear what you think of Donna.”
Fenella nodded and then followed him to the door. “I’m sure I’ll still be here on Tuesday, trying to keep track of kittens. Why don’t you come to dinner? I’ll even cook.”
“That sounds great. Don’t go to too much trouble, though.”
“I’ll make something simple and get a bottle of wine. That was nice tonight.”
“It was,” Daniel agreed. He stared at her for a minute and then sighed. “Whichever way I go, I’m going to regret it,” he told her.
“What do you mean?”
“I want to kiss you, but I’m not sure that’s wise.”
Fenella frowned an
d then took a step closer to him. “Maybe just a quick, friendly kiss,” she suggested.
Daniel’s smile sent a warm rush to the pit of her stomach. He pulled her close and then lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was definitely not quick, but it felt very, very friendly indeed.
After what felt like a long, wonderful time, Daniel lifted his head. “Maybe I won’t regret that after all,” he said softly before he released her and walked away.
5
After checking on the kittens one more time, Fenella opened the baby gate and headed up the stairs. She wasn’t sure whether she should shut it behind herself or not, but in the end she decided she’d rather shut it than leave it open and find a kitten in her bedroom in the morning. If one of them could fit through the bars, they probably all could, whether they’d realized it or not.
The bedroom felt odd and the master bathroom was small. Fenella was missing her apartment by the time she climbed into bed. It only took her a minute to realize that she was missing Katie, too. While she often grumbled to herself about the kitten sleeping in the middle of her bed, this bed felt empty and lonely as she tried to get comfortable. The pillowcase smelled like Jack, which didn’t help. Fenella hadn’t thought to change the bedding before her impromptu stay.
She tossed and turned for several minutes and then got up and tore the bed apart. There was a second set of bedding in the small linen closet on the landing. It took a bit of time to remake the bed, but she felt better snuggling under sheets that smelled of laundry detergent and fabric softener. It was odd to think that Jack had been sleeping in the bed only twenty-four hours earlier. She had to hope that he’d arrived back in Buffalo safely, as she hadn’t been at her apartment if he’d remembered to call to let her know he was home. Now that the idea had crossed her mind, she found herself worrying about him.
“He got himself to the island on his own. He’s quite capable of getting home again,” she told herself firmly. Trying to push Jack out of her head, she started thinking about Daniel’s cold case. The papers had run a grainy black-and-white photograph of poor Mabel Gross. From the picture, it looked as if she’d had light brown hair and dark eyes. She’d been laughing when the picture had been taken, and Fenella felt a stab of sympathy for the young woman who’d been brutally murdered at such a young age.
With worries about Jack and thoughts about murder chasing one another through her head as she fell asleep, it was hardly surprising that Fenella had nightmares. None of them were bad enough to wake her, but they all kept her from sleeping well. When she woke up the next morning, she was disoriented and felt more tired than she had when she’d gone to bed. The clock on the nightstand told her that it was eight, an hour later than the time Katie usually woke her. Wishing that she felt as if she’d had an extra hour of sleep, she stumbled into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower.
Feeling only slightly more awake, Fenella headed for the stairs. She hadn’t felt up to trying to manage the baby gate when she’d first woken up, but now she needed coffee so badly that she was prepared to climb over it if that was the only way she could get to the kitchen. Once the coffee was brewing, Fenella checked the living room. All four kittens were still tucked up with their mother, seemingly fast asleep. The litter tray needed attention, so Fenella swapped it for the one from the other playpen, which hadn’t been touched and then quickly cleaned it out. Dropping it back into the empty playpen, she checked on the kittens again. One of them opened its eyes and then squeezed them shut again.
“Coffee,” Fenella said as the smell hit her nose. “That will help.”
After drinking half of the pot, she felt better. The kittens were awake and stretching when she walked back into the living room after breakfast.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said. “I’ve put some lovely breakfast for you in the other playpen.”
She gave the mother cat an affectionate scratch and then started picking up kittens. With all four them safely moved to the second playpen, Fenella gave the mother food and water and then grabbed her handbag.
“I won’t be gone long,” she told the animals. “Behave yourselves and I’ll let you all out for a run as soon as I get back.”
As she started her car she began to feel guilty about leaving the kittens stuck in the playpen. They would have a lot more fun if they could explore the house while she was away. Sighing deeply, she went back inside and let them out, putting their food and water dishes on the floor next to the playpen. “Now stay out of trouble,” she told them.
The mother cat looked quite content to stay where she was, so Fenella left her alone. She checked that she’d shut the gate to the stairs before she once more headed for the front door. The drive back to her apartment didn’t take long at all.
“How’s my baby?” she asked Shelly when Shelly answered her impatient knock.
“Katie is fine,” Shelly laughed. “She and Smokey slept together in Smokey’s bed last night, even though I told her she could sleep with me if she preferred.”
“She has a perfectly good cat bed at home, and she never sleeps in it,” Fenella sighed. “Maybe I should have Smokey stay over once in a while.”
She played with Katie and Smokey for a short while before heading back to her own apartment. “I’ll visit her again tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind,” she told Shelly on her way out.
“Of course I don’t mind. You know you’re always welcome.”
“I really appreciate your keeping her for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“How was your evening?” Mona asked as Fenella let herself into the apartment.
“It was fine. Daniel came over and we talked about his cold case. Then we hunted everywhere for one of the kittens until the police came. What could be more romantic than that?”
Mona laughed. “The police came? Why?”
“We were hunting outside with flashlights and one of the neighbors got suspicious.”
“At least Daniel was able to reassure whoever arrived that everything was okay.”
“Except he didn’t have any identification with him. It was all okay in the end, but it wasn’t fun.”
“Tell me about the cold case, then,” Mona said as Fenella headed for the bedroom.
“It’s a murder case, a woman called Mabel Gross.”
“Really? How fascinating.”
“Why is that fascinating?” Fenella asked as she began to dig out more things to take to the house on Poppy Drive. She’d only packed enough for a few nights, and it now seemed likely that she was going to be staying there longer.
“I remember the case. It was quite the sensation at the time. There were plenty of people who seemed to think that she’d been foolish for living on her own the way that she was.”
Fenella made a derisory noise. “No one would have said that if she’d been a man.”
“No,” Mona agreed. “Obviously, I never agreed with that opinion. I’d been living on my own for many years by that time, and I felt perfectly safe.”
“You were living in a hotel, though, not in a house.”
“And I had Max looking after me. Poor Mabel was entirely on her own, aside from her brother. Clyde thought the world of her.”
“You knew him?”
“Yes, of course. He used to work at ShopFast. He’s been retired for many years now, but he worked his way up to be one of the managers of the store that’s right around the corner from here.”
“What did you think of him?”
“He’s a lovely man. Very quiet and almost shy, but he could be firm when he needed to be if customers or staff caused any trouble. He never married and I always felt as if he’d never quite recovered from losing his sister. As I said, he adored her. They were something like five years apart and he was the younger of the two. It wasn’t just him, though, they both seemed to enjoy spending time together.”
“I love all four of my brothers,” Fenella said. “I’d be devastated if anything happened to any of them.”
“And Clyde was
devastated when Mabel died. I’d met her once or twice, actually. I didn’t like her.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure. I only met her in passing. She worked for Andrew Neil, and Max sometimes used him as his advocate for small things. He had a team of advocates and solicitors in the UK to handle most of his concerns, but sometimes, with minor issues, he’d have Mr. Neil deal with them.”
“Tell me about Mabel.”
“She was pretty, but she knew it very well. I don’t think she was all that dedicated to her career, but she liked to pretend that she was, and her pretense seemed to fool Mr. Neil. I suspect, had she lived, she would have found herself a husband before too much longer and then settled down to have babies. That was what women did in those days.”
“But she was between boyfriends when she died?”
“As far as I know, but as I said, I barely knew Mabel. She was a close friend to one of the other women in Mr. Neil’s office. Neither of them liked the third woman who worked there, but as we found out later, the third woman was Mr. Neil’s favorite, anyway.”
Fenella nodded. “Daniel told me that story.”
Mona frowned. “What a shame, I’d have enjoying telling you that one myself.”
“What do you know about the other women, the ones that were Mabel’s friends?”
“You’re asking me to remember people I may have met only in passing fifty years ago,” Mona said. “I’m not sure that I can help.”
“I know you knew Donna Cannon, because you commented on her when she rang the other day.”
Mona frowned. “I’d forgotten that Donna was one of Mabel’s friends. You’re right, of course. I remember it now. There were two or three women who gave interviews to the local papers at the time. I’m sure Donna loved all of the attention. Knowing her, she gave the papers a lot more information than they needed or wanted, without saying anything relevant. Donna can talk for hours and say very little.”
“It sounds as if you don’t like her.”
“I don’t dislike her, exactly, but she can be something of a bore. She never married and has always been a generous supporter of certain charities around the island. Whenever we were both invited to events, the organizers would almost always put us at the same table, often with recent widows or other unmarried women. We used to laugh about, actually.”
Kittens and Killers Page 7
