Jergen's office took up one end of the spacious living room. His handsome cherry-wood desk stood against the front windows, looking down the Molena Point hills-though all the cats could see from floor level was the blue sky and a few clouds, whose dark undersides hinted of rain.
The light of Jergen's computer cast a faint blue gleam across his well-styled silver hair. His busy fingers produced a soft, constant clicking on the keys. His pale gray suit was smoothly tailored. His shoes, in the cats' direct line of sight, were of soft, gleaming black leather. Everything about Winthrop Jergen presented an aura of expensive good taste.
To Jergen's right stood two cherry file cabinets, then a row of tall bookshelves filled with professional-looking volumes. The thick Kirman rug was oversized, fitting nearly to the pale walls, its colors of ivory and salmon forming a soft background to the creamy leather couch and the rose silk easy chairs. The six etchings on the left wall were delicately detailed studies of far and exotic cities, each with unusual rooftops: conical roofs, fluted roofs, straw ones topping stone huts, and a vista with sharply peaked domes. Each city flanked a seaport, as if perhaps the etchings embodied Jergen's dreams of far and extensive travel. The vacuuming ceased, and the cats backed into shadow. As Mavity returned with a lemon-scented cloth and began to dust the end tables, Jergen stopped typing.
"Mavity, would you hand me that file? There on the credenza?"
She picked up a file from the cherry credenza, brought it across to him, her work-worn hands dry and wrinkled compared to Jergen's smooth hands and neatly manicured nails.
"And that book-the black account book."
Obediently she brought the book to him, complying as a kindergartner might obey a revered teacher.
"Thank you, Mavity. Your Coca-Cola stock is doing very well; you should expect a nice dividend soon. And though I can't be certain, it appears the Home Depot stock should split this month, and that will give you a really handsome bonus."
Mavity beamed. "I don't know no way to thank you, Mr. Jergen, for all you're doing for me."
"But, Mavity, your good fortune is in my interest, too. After all, I enjoy a nice percent of your earnings."
"Oh, and you deserve it," she said hastily. "You earn every penny and more."
Jergen smiled. "It's a fair exchange. I expect your niece and her husband have arrived by now, for their visit? Didn't you tell me they were coming this week?"
"Oh, yes, all tucked up in my little place, and enjoying the beach." Mavity began to wind her vacuum cleaner cord, turning away to straighten it.
Jergen smiled briefly and returned to his computer; he began to work again, deep into columns of numbers. Dulcie's eyes widened at the large amounts of money flashing on the screen and at the names of the impressive financial institutions-firms mentioned with serious respect in the library's reference department. But soon both cats grew impatient with a world so far removed, that they could not smell or taste or deal with directly, and they slipped away, leaping down within the dark wall, crouching at the bottom.
In the musty shadows of the narrow, hidden space, Dulcie's eyes were as black as midnight. "Mavity trusts Jergen totally. She thinks he hung the moon. Why does he make me uneasy?"
Joe looked at her and shrugged. "Don't start, Dulcie. There's nothing wrong with Jergen. You're just bored-looking for trouble."
She hissed at him but said nothing as they padded out beneath the stairs into the sunny patio. And they both forgot Winthrop Jergen when a pale blue BMW pulled up in front.
Bernine Sage swung out and came into the patio, her high heels clicking sharply across the worn bricks. Pausing, she glanced through the open doors of the two first-floor apartments.
In the back apartment Charlie had stopped work. She stood quietly on her ladder watching Bernine, but she did not call out to her. Not until Bernine headed purposefully in her direction did Charlie come down the ladder. "Looking for Clyde?" Her tone was not cordial.
"I have an appointment with Winthrop Jergen," Bernine said cooly. "Is it upstairs? How do I…?"
Charlie pointed toward the stairwell. Bernine said nothing more but headed across the patio.
Behind her, relief softened Charlie's face. And from an upperfloor window, Pearl Ann stood at the glass watching the little scene with a dry, amused smile.
The cats listened to the clink of Bernine's heels on the stairs, then her soft knock.
"She doesn't waste any time, does she?" Dulcie said with a cutting little mew.
Joe shrugged. "She'll start off talking investments, then come onto him. The woman's a leech." He curled up in the sunny weeds, yawning.
Dulcie curled up beside him, watching and listening. And it wasn't half an hour later that they heard the upstairs door open and heard Bernine say softly, "Twelve-thirty, then. See you tomorrow." And she clicked down the steps and left the patio with a smug, self-satisfied expression. Her fast work, even for Bernine, piqued Dulcie's interest like the sound of mice scratching at a baseboard.
She watched Bernine drive away, then looked up at Jergen's apartment. "Does he realize she's a little gold digger? He seems smarter than that."
"Maybe he's playing at some game-maybe he sees right through her."
Dulcie smiled. "I want to see this. I want to see how he looks when he leaves to pick her up, what he's wearing…"
"That's incredibly nosy. What difference…"
"What he's wearing," she said with patient female logic, "will indicate what he has in mind-what he thinks of Bernine."
And Dulcie's curiosity drew them back the next day to the patio, where they lay napping in the sun as Winthrop Jergen left his apartment. The sight of him made Dulcie laugh.
"Just as I thought. Trying to look like a twenty-year-old."
He was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater that set off his sleek silver hair, tight black slacks, a tan suede sport coat, and suede boots. "Right," Dulcie said, smirking. "Bernine made a big impression. Don't be surprised if she takes him for a nice sum- she has a way with her lovers."
But Joe was watching Pearl Ann gathering up her cleaning equipment as Jergen's Mercedes pulled away. Joe rose as she headed for the stairs.
"This isn't Jergen's regular cleaning day," he said, as Pearl Ann slipped quickly inside. "Come on."
In another minute they were crouched beneath Jergen's sink, waiting for the customary cleaning sounds, for Pearl Ann's vacuum to start. They heard only silence, then the jingle of keys and a file drawer sliding open.
Slipping to the kitchen door, they watched Pearl Ann sitting at Winthrop Jergen's desk examining the hanging files in an open drawer. Her keys dangled on their familiar gold chain from the drawer's lock.
Searching through the files, she removed one occasionally and laid it on the desk, paging through. Then she turned on Jergen's computer. She seemed quite at home with the machine, scrolling through vast columns of numbers. But every few minutes she rose to lean over the desk, looking down at the street below, her jumpsuit tight across her slim rear. The scent of her jasmine cologne was so sharp that Dulcie had to press her nose against her paw to keep from sneezing. After a long perusal of both hard copy and computer files, she removed a floppy disk from her pocket and slipped it into the machine.
"Copies," Dulcie breathed against Joe's ear. "She's making copies. She's using a code. How does she know his code?" At night in the library, after some instruction from Wilma, she found the computer a challenge, though she still preferred the feel of book pages beneath her paws. She knew about codes, Wilma had shown her that; Wilma kept a few things on her computer she didn't want the whole library to know.