"It was nice of Market to let me stay. Nice of him to call Harry too. I suppose she thinks I'm learning a lesson. Fat chance. I'll remember the date."
"She fooled you. She took you to the vet on Sunday. Special trip."
Mrs. Murphy thought about that. "She's smarter than I think. Wonder what she had to pay Dr. Parker to make a special trip to the office?"
When Hogan pulled into the bank, his headlights were diffused in the thickening mist. The cats could just make him out as he unlocked die front door and entered. Within a minute the lights went on upstairs, in a fuzzy golden square.
"Diligent," Pewter said. She licked one paw and wiped it over an ear.
Lights turned off in other buildings as the hours passed. Finally only a few neon lights shone in store windows or over signs; the street lamps glowed. The cats dozed, then Mrs. Murphy opened her eyes.
"Pewter, wake up. I heard a car behind us."
"People use the alleyway."
A door slammed, they heard the crunch of human shoes. Then a figure appeared at the corner. Whoever it was had walked the length of the alleyway. They couldn't make out who it was or even what gender, as the fog was now dense. In a moment, swirling gray swallowed the person.
Inside his office Hogan kept blinking. His eyes, exhausted by the screen of the computer, burned. His brain burned too. He tried all manner of things. He punched in the word Threadneedle. He remembered the void commands. He finally decided he would review clients' accounts. Something might turn up that Norman had missed. An odd transfer or an offshore transfer. He could go through the accounts quickly since he knew these people and their small businesses. He was at the end of the Hs by midnight. An unfamiliar yet familiar name snagged him.
"Huckstep," he said aloud. "Huckstep." He punched in the code to review the account. It had been opened July 30 in the name of Michael and Malibu Huckstep, a joint account. Of course—the murdered man. He must have intended to stick around, if he opened an account. That meant he had an account card with his signature and his wife's. He was going to go downstairs to check the card files, but first the buttons clicked as he checked the amount in the savings account: $4,218.64. Not a lot of money but enough. He rubbed his eyes and checked his wrist-watch. Past twelve. Too late to call Rick Shaw. He'd call him first thing in the morning.
Meanwhile he'd go down and check those signature cards. He stood up, interlocked his fingers, and stretched his hands over his head. His knuckles cracked just as the bullet from a .357 tore into his shoulder. He opened his mouth to call out his assailant's name, but too late. The next one exploded his heart and he crashed down into his chair.
Back in the store, the cats heard the gunfire.
"Hurry!" Mrs. Murphy yelled as they both screeched out the kitty door. As they ran toward the bank, they heard through the dense fog footsteps running in the opposite direction, up at the corner.
"Damn! Damn!'"The tiger cursed herself.
"What's the matter?"
"Pewter, we should have gone around back to see the car."
"Too late now." The smallish but rotund gray cat barreled toward the bank.
Arriving at the front step only a couple of minutes after the gunfire, they stopped so fast at the door that they tumbled over one another and landed on a figure slumped in the doorway, a smoking .357 in her hand.
"Oh, NO!" Murphy cried.
24
Kerry McCray lay slumped across the front doorway of the bank. A small trickle of blood oozed from her head. The acrid odor of gunpowder filled the air. The pistol was securely grasped in her right hand.
"We've got to get Mrs. Hogendobber." Mrs. Murphy sniffed Kerry's wound.
"Maybe I should stay here with her. "Pewter kept patting Kerry's face in a vain effort to revive her.
"If only Tucker were here." The tiger paced around the inert form. "She could guard Kerry. Look, Pewter, we'll have to risk that she'll be safe. It's going to take two of us to get Mrs. Hogendobber here."
That said, the two sped through the fog, running so low to the ground and so fast that the pads of their paws barely touched it. They pulled up under Mirandas bedroom window which was wide open to catch the cooling night air. A screen covered the window.
"Let's sing, "Murphy commanded.
They hooted, hollered, and screeched. Those two cats could have awakened the dead.
Miranda, in her nightdress, shoe in hand, came to the window. She opened the screen and let fly. Mrs. Murphy and Pewter dodged the missile with ease.
"Bad shot! Come on, Mrs. H., come on!"
"Pewter?" Miranda squinted into the fog.
The tubby kitty jumped up on the windowsill followed by Mrs. Murphy before Miranda could close the screen.
"Oh, please, Mrs. Hogendobber, please listen to us. There's terrible trouble—"Pewter said.
"Somebody's hurt!" Murphy bellowed.
"You two are getting on my nerves. Now, you get on out of here." Miranda slid the screen up again.
"No!" they replied in unison.
"Follow me. "Murphy ran to the door of the bedroom.
Miranda simply didn't get it even though Pewter kept telling her to hurry, hurry.
"Watch out. She might swat," Murphy warned Pewter as she snuck in low and bit Miranda's ankle.
"Ouch!" Outraged, Mrs. Hogendobber switched on the light and picked up the phone. As she did, she noticed the cats circling her and then going back and forth to the door. Their distress affected her, but she wasn't sure what to do and she was mad at Murphy. She dialed Harry.
A dull hello greeted her.
"Your cat has just bit me on the ankle and is acting crazy. Rabies."
"Mrs. Hogendobber—" Harry was awake now.
"Pewters here too. Screeching under my window like banshees and I opened the window and they jumped in and—" She bent down as Pewter rubbed her leg. She noticed a bit of blood on
Pewters foreleg and paw where the cat had patted Kerry's head. "Pewter has blood on her paw. Oh, dear, Harry, I think you'd better come here and get these cats. I don't know what to do."
"Keep them inside, okay? I'll be right over, and I'm sorry Murphy bit you. Don't worry about rabies—she's had her shots, remember?" Harry hung up the phone, jumped into her jeans and an old workshirt. She hurried to the truck and cranked it up. As she blasted down the road, she stuck some gum in her mouth. She'd been in too big a rush to brush her teeth.
In seven minutes she was at Miranda's door. As Harry entered the living room Murphy said, "Try again, Pewter. Mother's a little smarter than Miranda."
They both hollered, "Kerry McCray's hurt."
"Somethings wrong." Harry reached for Pewter's paw, but the cat eluded her and ran to the front door.
"Rabies." Miranda folded her arms across her bosom.
"No, it isn't."
"That tiger, that hellcat, bit me." She dangled her ankle out from under her nightdress. Two perfect fang marks, not deep but indenting the skin, were revealed.
"Come on," Murphy yowled at the top of her lungs. She scratched at the front door.
"These two want something. I'm going to see. Why don't you go back to bed. And I do apologize."
"I'm wide awake now." Miranda returned to her bedroom, threw on a robe and slippers, and reappeared. "I can't go back to sleep once I've been awakened. Might as well prove that I'm as crazy as you and these cats are." With that she sailed through the open door. "I can barely see my hand in front of my face. How'd you get here so quickly?"