Climate Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 7) (35 page)

“Nothing will happen, Molly.”

“It
will
happen! Just as it has twice before.”

“No. Look.”

Nina then nodded to Margot, who pulled the sheet off the large table in the middle of the room.

A pile of objects were glowing yellow, as though a nebula of stars had spawned on the table.

Around this nebula, spread across the room, more lights glowed yellow.

These lights were the AGCW pendants hanging from necklaces that all of the AGCW members had been given, and were still wearing.

Molly Badger stared at the room in horror.

“What is that? You’ve not…”

“Yes, we have. We realized, finally, what was in the box you left, Molly. It was the gold Guild pendants, and the matching pendants to hang on our cats’ collars.”

“But the cats should be––”

“The cats are here, Molly. All right, writers. Remove the shawls.

All of them did.

Revealing every cat that belonged to every writer.

Ezekiel lay quietly in the lap of Sarah Trimball, who wrote the Judy Finch mysteries.

Cardwin Cat lay quietly in the lap of Jessica Turner, who wrote the Celia McNaugton mysteries.

Roscoe lay quietly in the lap of Pamela Jane Sidberry, who wrote the Sarah Jane Dewberry mysteries.

And so on.

All of the cats in the room peaceful, all lying quietly—their collars having been taken off––in the laps of their owners.

Cozy, as it were.

But Molly Badger was horrified:

“Why aren’t they doing anything? They should be going crazy by now, and ripping you all to shreds, just the way they ripped Amboise and the bodybuilder to shreds!”

“They’re not going crazy, Molly, because we took their collars off. That’s what you see there glowing on the table in the center of the room. Our pendants are glowing, too, giving out the signal that is supposed to be driving the cats wild, infuriating them, so they would attack whatever animal is wearing that wave inducer, or whatever you choose to call it.”

“The transmitter.”

“Yes. I should have put two and two together when Professor Dunbury told me about the device that had calmed down the plantation dog. An electronic device that sent waves into his brain, relaxing him. Of course, such devices could have the opposite effect. Of course, such devices could make cats go wild. Any human wearing the transmitter would be in terrible danger, because we all saw what a fight was like between just two cats. But you created something much worse. Amboise’s pendant—the transmitter—going off silently, so that he was not even aware of it. Or of the faint yellow glow that it gave off to show that it was doing what it had been designed to do:
 
attract and infuriate cats. They were all drawn to it like a male would have been drawn to a female in heat, only with ten times the hatred. Whatever was wearing it, they would tear to pieces. And they would have easy access, of course, because of the cat doors. I can only imagine the horror felt by Amboise and C. R. Roberts, seeing the animals pour into the room in a single line, then lunging––probably at the eyes first. Finally, all thirty would be there, ripping and tearing. Then, after enough time had passed and the ghastly deed had been done, you had simply to turn off the transmitter. The cats were at peace again, and would simply leave the room by the same cat doors through which they had entered. The victim was dead, and any blood that might have been found on individual cats was chalked up as a wound gotten in a single cat fight. A fight such as we all had gotten used to seeing.”

There was silence for a time.

Finally, Molly said, quietly:

“Oh, what a world! My beautiful evil!”

“Molly,” Nina said, “that’s a line from
The Wizard of Oz.”

The image stared back at her and finally said:

“What is that?”

“It’s a movie.”

“Is it a cozy movie?”

“No.”

“Oh. Then I don’t care about it.”

And the screen went dark.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
 
DEPARTURES

The following day dawned clear in northern Mississippi, Hurricane Clarence leaving behind no more than flooded streets and wind-torn trees.

There was a vacant spot where once a rickety barn had stood in the far west pasture of Candles Estate, but otherwise the old plantation had suffered no damage.

So the building could continue to smile, as it always had, on guests arriving and leaving.

There were no arrivals today, and only departures, which were viewed by Margot and Nina as they sat at the table in the front yard, sipped coffee, and chatted with James Thompson in the late morning.
         

“So,” Nina was saying, “Molly Badger is in Vicksburg now?”

The police chief nodded:

“She was flown out of Meridian on a special jet.”

“And she’s in jail?”

A shake of the head.

“No, she’s in a luxury suite in the Riverside Hotel, which, I’m told, is one of the city’s finest.”

Margot put down her cup of coffee and leaned forward on the table.

“She’s not in jail?”

“No.”

“Why for heavens sake not?”

Thompson shrugged:

“We arrested Ms. Badger early this morning, about 2 a. m. She spent the night in our jail. We put her up before the judge at 8 a. m., told him what we suspected her of doing, and asked for an indictment. He just laughed at us.”

“He laughed?”

“Yes. We told him that Ms. Badger had cleverly arranged it so that all thirty of the cats staying out at Candles were wearing special charms on their collars. That these were not really charms, though, but small electronic devices which, when triggered, would attract them to transmitters. That these transmitters were actually other charms being worn around the necks of cozy cat writers, such as Mr. Amboise and Ms. Roberts. That the brain waves of the cats were so heated up by the transmitters that the animals would go into a fury and try to destroy whatever was wearing the transmitters. That two cats fighting was a scary thing to see, but that the thought of thirty of them attacking any creature simultaneously was absolutely terrifying. That’s what we told him.”

“And?”

“Like I said, he laughed. He said that was the most ridiculous murder method he’d ever heard of and that we’d better go back to square one to solve the case. So we thought about it for a time and told him it was probably a panther, and it had been driven into one of Candles’ escape tunnels by the storm. He said he’d never seen a panther in these parts, but that was at least a better theory than the one about the cats. And we let it drop at that. As far as the authorities are concerned, the case is closed forever.”

It was Nina’s turn to lean forward:

“But we know what really happened! It
was
the cats! There was no panther involved!”

Thompson merely shook his head:

“I understand your point, Ms. Bannister. It bothered me too for a time, knowing that Molly Badger was going to go free. I thought maybe if I came out and collected some of these devices, maybe rounded up some stray cats, maybe put on a demonstration for the judge––”

“Yes, yes…so why didn’t you do just that?”

“Because I visited first with a lawyer friend of mine. I told him the whole theory.”

“And?”

“He laughed and said it was the most ridiculous murder method he’d ever heard of, and that not even a mystery writer could think of anything so ridiculous.”

“But, but––”

“So I pressed him. After he stopped laughing, I insisted. I said, well, just assume the thing was possible, and it happened just the way I said. What charges could Ms. Badger be tried on?”

“And?”

“He told me he couldn’t think of any charges.”

“But she committed murder!”

“No, she was in a motel room in Abbeyport when the murders happened.”

“But she, but she––”

“She what?”

“She
incited cats
!

“Ms. Bannister, I and my lawyer friend did a check. There is no law in the state of Mississippi against inciting cats. There is a law against cruelty to animals. It’s only a misdemeanor, though, and we can’t arrest her for it, because she wasn’t cruel to the animals.”

“But she made the animals be cruel to people?”

“Which animals?” he asked, waving at the line of cozy writers who were now waiting to board limousines.

“Well, I don’t know. I mean, are you asking which cats actually inflicted specific wounds?”

“Yes, ma’am. Even if we could put Ms. Badger up for trial, we would have to indict specific animals. We would have to prove that Hecuba or Ezekiel or Stanislaus or Pussywillow or whichever animal, actually clawed the jugular of Mr. Amboise open, and inflicted the fatal wound. And we can’t do that for two reasons.”

“Those being?”

“Well, first, we can’t do it because, as you see, the owners are leaving as fast as possible and taking the cats with them.”

Margot nodded:

“It’s true, Nina. Harriet came to me early this morning and said the cozy writers had decided to cancel the rest of the conference. Each writer steadfastly denied that her personal animal was a murder-cat, but each writer also insisted on getting out of the state before any possible charges could be brought.”

“All right, all right—but Officer Thompson, you said you couldn’t indict for two reasons. What is the other one?”

“The other one is we don’t have precedent. There is not, at least as far as a quick check can show us, any record of a house cat ever being executed for murder in the state of Mississippi.”

He was silent for a second and then said:

“Now I’m not sure about Texas.”

Silence for a time.

Finally Nina said, quietly:

“So she actually did it. Molly actually did it.”

“What, may I ask?”

“She pulled off the perfect murder.”

Thompson nodded:

“Actually, two perfect murders. But there’s another aspect of the crimes that you have to bear in mind.”

“That being?”

“The disagreeability index.”

“The what?”

“How disagreeable the murder victims were. It may be different in other places in the country, but here in Mississippi we go a good deal easier on murderers who kill unlikeable people. From what I hear, this Amboise fellow was not likeable at all.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“And the Roberts woman apparently bragged about castrating men with one karate chop.”

“Just sexist men.”

“I know, but still—if you got an all-male jury––”

“I understand.”

“Well. I have to go now. We’ll all talk later.”

“Thank you, Officer Thompson,” said Margot. “I do want to––”

“Ms. Gavin! Ms. Bannister!”

 
Margot’s words were interrupted by Suzy Maples and her cat. She wore an ebony black Calvin Klein open-front soft jacket and classic-fit trousers, suitable for traveling. Under the jacket, she wore a turquoise and black pleated-neck, arrow-printed top. Her feet were clad in Thalia Sodi Elina pumps, and she carried a Dooney & Bourke Lambskin Tobi tote in black, slung across her forearm. Burberry sunglasses topped her head, holding back her hair and ready to protect her eyes. Again Hermes limited edition 24 Faubourg
eau de parfume
edition numero 24 wafted
 
across the lawn.

“You look marvelous,” said Nina.

“Oh these are just some things I threw together for the trip. But Whiskers and I just stopped by to tell you how much fun we’ve had, and what wonderful hosts you’ve been!”

It was Margot who answered:

“You’re so kind! I’m sorry about the two ghastly murders and the near mass murder of everyone.”

Suzy Maples shook her head:

“We can’t expect everything to go perfectly. But things are fine now, from what I hear. Everything except Whiskers here.”

She pointed to the cat carrier.

Out of which Whiskers had just vomited.

“I can’t imagine what’s wrong with her!”

Morning sickness,
thought Nina.

But she said:

“Probably journey-proud.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s it! Well, thank you all again.”

And, so saying, she left.

To be replaced at the table by the Smathers sisters.

Who, strangely, were not looking here and there, to the right and to the left, and everywhere in between.

Tall Smathers sister:

“My sister and I simply had to come by and tell you how much fun we’ve had!”

Short Smathers sister:

“Yes, it’s going to be the basis of our next PARANORMAL ROMANCE!”

Tall Smathers sister:

“Our alpha male, who, you will probably remember our telling you, is a werewolf, is going to be spiritually invested by an ancient Egyptian mummy, who was three-thousand years ago the beautiful princess Isis. While he’s unwrapping her in order to have sexual intercourse––”

Short Smathers sister:

“We were the first to write about inter-creature sexual intercourse, you know!”

“I remember you saying,” said Nina.

Tall Smathers sister:

“While he’s doing this, an army of pyramid-cats descend upon them and––”

Short Smathers sister:

“Stop stop, Sister! You mustn’t give away the entire plot!”

Tall Smathers sister:

“Oh, I know! I always do that! Anyway, that wasn’t the most important thing we have to tell you!”

“What is that?” asked Margot.

Both sisters at once:

“YOU ARE BEING DE-POSSESSED!”

Margot looked shocked for a second, then said:

“No, we’re not! We’ve paid our bills!”

Short Smathers sister:

“No, no, not dispossessed; depossessed! The ghostly presence is about to take itself elsewhere! We feel it very strongly! And when it does, the demonic presence will accompany it. Your house will be un-haunted. We promise you!”

Margot merely smiled:

“Well, it’s good of you to tell us. Thank you for your kind words. And good luck with your PARANORMAL ROMANCE.
 
What will it be called?”