"In spite of this mess," Joe said into the speaker, "one seemingly unrelated question. Did you get there in time?"
"I did," she said sadly. "I moved it all, thanks to you. I wanted to call but I… Joe, that cat has been here. Inside my apartment."
"The cat can't hurt you, Kate." He paused. He wasn't sure of that. "But Consuela could," he said staring at the phone. This whole gig made him edgy; this stuff was happening too far away, and there were too many loose pieces, events that didn't add up. "Come home, Kate. Come back to the village now." He glanced at Clyde. "You can stay with us."
Clyde looked surprised, then nodded.
"And I've been followed," Kate said.
"Followed where? When was this? Consuela? Who?"
"A man. I…"
Clyde nudged Joe away from the speaker. "Did you report it to the police? Do you know him?"
"I… No. And I didn't report it, not yet."
"Why not?" Clyde snapped. "Never mind. Kate, get a second appraisal on the jewelry. This is all too weird."
"Emerson Bristol has an excellent reputation, Clyde. He's a big name in the city."
"You researched the subject," Clyde said. "You know that such unusual work, made by a master craftsman, ought to be cataloged somewhere. Even if it is paste. You said you've been through all the catalogs, the books in San Francisco Public and in the museums. Don't you think it's strange that there's absolutely no mention of it?"
"Yes," she said in a small voice.
"I don't like this. Joe's right. Come home, Kate. Bring that stuff down here to someone in the village-someone Harper recommends."
"I have so much work, installations…"
"Come home, Kate. Come now."
"I… After tonight, I feel all in pieces. Will you call me when you know more about Lucinda and Pedric? More about what happened?"
Clyde sighed. "I'll call you."
"And… there's something else," she said. "I almost forgot. Likely it's nothing, but… I threw out some newspapers when I was cleaning up, but I saved one. It was dated three days before Charlie's gallery opening. There was a jewel robbery here, on Market Street. A cheap, touristy kind of place. It happened around six in the evening, just before the shop closed. The police got there before the three men could get away. They arrested two, but the third man got a cop down and escaped. The paper said he took a hard blow to the forehead, the store owner hit him with a brick. It's probably coincidence," Kate said, "but I…"
"Harper is checking the police records for fights," Clyde said with interest. "For batterings, anything like that. He's sure to catch it, but I'll tell him. Save the paper, the date. And come home, Kate. Where it's safe. We all miss you."
"I'll think about it, Clyde. Good-night, you guys." Her voice was weepy. "Good-night," she whispered. "I guess I feel better."
When Clyde hung up, Joe dropped off the desk and leaped to Clyde's new leather easy chair that sat before the fire. Clyde had brought the Molena Point Gazette upstairs with him. The Greenlaw accident filled the upper half of the front page. Scanning the article, he saw with disappointment that it gave no more information than the TV news had supplied.
The lower half of the page was devoted to Saturday night's clothing store burglary. Alice's Mirror had been relieved of its highest-priced stock. There was no sign of forced entry. The theft hadn't been discovered until this morning when the owner opened the store for the usual Sunday tourists.
Joe sat staring into the fire, wondering how much he should tell Clyde. It was just this morning, the morning after the Greenlaw accident, that Kit had told Joe himself, and Dulcie, about the missing key.
After their night on Hellhag Hill, Joe had awakened very late, alone in the rumpled bed. The bedside clock said 8:15, half the day gone, from any cat's point of view. Clyde would long ago have gone to work. Joe was crawling out from among the tangled sheets when the phone rang. He didn't knock the bedside phone from its cradle, but trotted through to the study. Leaping to the desk, he listened as the machine answered.
Only one word was spoken. "Joe?" Dulcie hissed.
He hit the speaker. "Damen residence."
"Jolly's," she said softly and immediately hung up.
He hit the erase button and was out of there, leaping to the rafter above the desk and up through his rooftop cat door.
Pausing in his private tower for a drink of water, he raced out across the shingles, then along an oak branch, across slanting and angled roofs until he was forced to descend to the sidewalk, at the divided lanes and grassy median of Ocean Avenue. Crossing Ocean among the feet of a group of tourists, he shied away from their reaching hands. What a smart cat, crossing the street with us… Cute kitty … Do you think he's lost? We could… Dodging away, he headed for Jolly's alley. Dulcie's voice had sounded desperate. All manner of disasters, most of them involving the kit, had raced through his tomcat mind as he swerved along the sidewalks and at last into Jolly's alley.
16
Belting into the alley, Joe found Dulcie and the kit crouched beneath the jasmine vine beside the deli's back door, their ears down, their eyes filled with distress. Though it was midmorning, the alley was empty. No other cats, no tourists. George Jolly's ever-present offering of delicacies stood untouched before the closed deli door. The kit had not even sampled the smoked salmon and egg custard. She sat staring listlessly down at her paws. Joe nudged at her, deeply distressed by her grieving for Lucinda and Pedric. Pushing in beneath the vine, he nosed at her. When she glanced up at him, the kit looked not only heartbroken, but ashamed.
"What?" Joe said. Dulcie, too, looked devastated. "What?" he repeated. "What's with you two?"
"She took the key," the kit said.
"Who did? What key?"
"Dillon. I should have told before but I thought… I didn't want her to be in trouble."
"What key, Kit? Key to what?"
But he knew.
"The key to the back door of Alice's Mirror," Dulcie said. "The store that was burglarized last night. It was on the local news this morning."
"I followed them," the kit said. "The four girls. One afternoon weeks ago. Followed them into Alice's Mirror. They were acting so… I just knew they were going to do something. I slipped inside behind a rack of satin and velvet and I watched them. Dillon looked so… sort of wandering pretending not to look all around. Like a bird when it's busy pecking the ground but really watching you. She was wandering just beside the door to the shop's office, admiring a rack of blouses, sliding them along-then she vanished.
"I could see her in the office where customers aren't supposed to go, so I went in there behind her. She didn't see me; I slid behind some boxes and watched." The kit sighed. "She took a key from a hook beside the desk and slipped out again and left the shop. Her two friends picked out some clothes, asked a clerk some questions about them and took them to a fitting room. I went outside and saw Dillon down the street, handing something to Consuela. Consuela turned and hurried away. I went up an oak tree until she came back and gave it back to Dillon; it was a key. Dillon went back inside the shop. I followed and watched her put it back in the office, hang it on a little hook. Then in a minute, all three girls left and they met Consuela outside.
"And I ran home.
"But I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want to tell Wilma or you or anyone. I knew I should call Captain Harper, but I didn't want to get Dillon in trouble and make the captain feel worse about her, so I didn't do anything. I curled up under the afghan and tried to sleep and pretend it didn't happen."
Joe Grey listened quietly. All along, Kit had carried this burden, wanting to protect Dillon. Kit looked up at him. "They copied it, didn't they? In one of those key places. It was all over the news. The burglary."