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Authors: Marian Babson

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BOOK: The Cat Who Wasn't a Dog
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Suddenly, I knew what was meant by ‘thundering silence'. It had fallen upon the gathering like a striking bolt of lightning. All heads were turned to look in one direction, every breath seemed to be held. I turned, too.
Soroya. She was making an entrance from the opposite side of the stage and was on a collision course with Teddy and his group, a purposeful gleam in her eye.
She was looking better than I had ever seen her, wearing a sari of an exquisite shimmering iridescent material so beautiful that I had to remind myself that it would do all those expensive caps on my teeth no good at all if I ground them in envy. I settled for a wistful sigh instead.
‘I've come straight from filming!' she announced in carrying tones. ‘That's why I'm still in costume. But I couldn't stay away from the theatre on my dear daughter's night of triumph!'
Every drop of blood seemed to drain from Teddy's face. He shook Matilda's hand off his arm and pushed her forward into Soroya's path, while he backed away, trying to drag Frella with him. In contrast, Frella's face had gone dark red and she was glaring hatred at Soroya.
I became aware that Superintendent Thursby was watching even more avidly than the others. Was he just enjoying the drama, or was he taking a professional interest in the proceedings?
‘Mmwaah! Mmwaah!' Soroya caught Matilda as she stumbled forward and planted firm kisses on both cheeks. ‘I'm so proud of you! And what clever make-up – it's put so many years on you!'
‘Thank you.' Matilda flinched but, conscious of her agog audience, managed a wan smile.
Teddy wasn't as expert as Eddie at the vanishing act, but Eddie hadn't been trying to drag a reluctant partner along with him. If looks could kill, Frella would have finished off Soroya then and there. Then Frella turned her head and the full blast of her murderous gaze was directed at me.
What had I ever done to her? I reeled under the force of her hatred. We hadn't even been introduced yet. Did she hold a grudge because Evangeline and I had been talking during her rehearsals? But she wasn't glaring at Evangeline.
‘Do help yourself to the buffet,' Matilda said, trying to distract Soroya's attention.
‘Perhaps just a bite, but I can't stay too long,' Soroya trumpeted. ‘I must get back to the film crew. It's a beautiful moonlit night outside and, from certain angles, the Royal Pavilion can be made to double for the Taj Mahal.'
‘“In the dark with a light behind it”,' Evangeline muttered.
‘Exactly!' Soroya beamed. ‘All those domes and minarets. Just a bit of soft focus and night-lit long shots and it can pass for a lot of Indian locations. We do a great deal of shooting here.'
An almost inaudible sigh went up from her audience. Mine weren't the only capped teeth in danger as a wave of envy swept over the lesser lights of the production. I made a mental bet that there'd be a lot of strollers past the Royal Pavilion late tonight, all hoping to be noticed and, possibly, considered for a part in a future production. Tentative smiles were sent in Soroya's direction and a few people moved closer to her.
I had half-turned away from her, hoping that she might not notice I was holding Cho-Cho in my arms. (‘What elephant?', as the comic asked innocently, trying to pretend he was unaware of the lumbering hulk following him across the stage.) It didn't work.
‘I'm glad to see – ' Soroya approached me and she spoke in the tone of one commending a half-witted servant for having unexpectedly done something right – ‘that you're
taking good care of Cho-Cho-San. I'm quite tied up for the next few days, but I'll collect her when I'm free.'
‘Right.' This did not seem the moment to inform her that Teddy had reclaimed custody and I was just stealing a little time with my darling. When Soroya had time to bother, she and Teddy could fight it out between them.
She inclined her head graciously and sailed off in the direction of the buffet. A couple of hopefuls followed her, seizing their opportunity to make contact over a quail egg or vol-au-vent.
‘Trixie!' Evangeline was at my side, quivering with indignation. ‘It's for you!' She ground the words out from between clenched teeth, brandishing her cellphone as though she'd like to hit me with it. ‘Can't you stop that woman from calling you on my mobile? Why don't you get one of your own?'
‘Hello, Martha.' I took the phone uneasily, not because of Evangeline's disapproval but because, really, it was a bit late for Martha to be calling. ‘Is everything all right? Hugh? The children? … The book?'
‘Yes, yes, they're all fine. How did the show go?'
‘Roaring success. It will run for ever when it hits the West End.'
‘Mother … are you sure you're really happy about not being in it? No regrets?'
‘None at all,' I said blithely. ‘It will be so much better for us to star in a new show. Revivals are all very well, but …'
‘Because,' Martha went on, ‘if the show has a very long run, everyone may not stay the course. It might be necessary to replace the stars if they fall ill or get bored. I realize that Hugh isn't producing it, but he knows all the other managements and he could put in a good word – '
‘Martha,' I said coldly, ‘just what are you trying to tell me?'
‘What is it?' Evangeline demanded. ‘What's the matter?'
‘I'm trying to find out,' I said grimly. ‘Martha, answer me! What's wrong?'
‘I went to a party tonight.' Typically, Martha took the long way round. ‘One of those showbiz things Hugh has to drop in on to keep up with what's going on. Do you know, I'm quite pleased at how many people I knew there. I feel as though I'm really getting to be part of London life – '
‘Martha …' I warned.
Cho-Cho decided her perch in my arms was now too uncomfortable with me using one hand for the phone and Evangeline crowding closer to try to hear. She dropped to the floor and stalked away.
‘Yes, well, we didn't know what sort of a party it was – until it was too late.'
‘Martha!' I gasped, visions of lurid headlines besetting me. ‘It wasn't – You weren't – '
‘No, no, nothing like that, Mother. It was all perfectly respectable and quite impromptu. I … er … saw that fellow … you know, the one who's supposed to be writing that new show for you …'
‘What do you mean, “supposed to be”?'
‘What?' Evangeline crowded closer. Cho-Cho would have been crushed if she hadn't decided to abandon her perch. ‘What?'
‘I didn't realize – not until we all got into cars and headed for Heathrow – and then it was too late – that it was a Going Away Party.'
‘
Who
was going away?' But a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, combined with Martha's reluctance to come to the point, told me that I could make a good guess at the answer.
‘Your playwright and his girlfriend. They said he'd come into some money and was taking a year off – maybe longer – to see the world. Someone mentioned six months in the South Seas, for a starter. Mother, you didn't pay him up front, did you?'
‘
I
didn't,' I said meaningly and looked at Evangeline. Those cheques she had been handing out to Nigel – had Nigel been acting as a go-between to keep me from knowing she was being so foolish?
‘I didn't, either!' Evangeline was now ear-to-ear with me, the mobile sandwiched uncomfortably between us. Should I believe her? Of course she'd say that … now.
‘I thought you ought to know as soon as possible, Mother. So that you can start making other plans. Or accept any offers that might come your way.'
‘That's very thoughtful of you, dear,' I said.
‘As if wild horses could drag Cecile off the stage after tonight!' Evangeline snorted.
‘Aaaah – there she is!' Teddy reappeared suddenly, alone and with the air of a man who had nearly forgotten something. ‘So kind of you to look after my little fluffball for me.' With those unfeeling words, he snatched Cho-Cho-San from my arms and bore her away.
After the news from Martha, that was just about the last straw. My only comfort had been in retrieving Cho-Cho and fussing over her.
‘Come along.' With unusual tact, Evangeline took one of my empty arms and steered me towards the exit. ‘Time we went home. I'd say tomorrow is another day, except that we're well into tomorrow now.'
Numbly, I allowed her to lead me away. Eddie was waiting outside with the taxi. I would have asked him where he'd been, but I couldn't trust my voice. I blinked against the moisture obscuring my vision. I didn't want Eddie. I didn't want Evangeline. I wanted Cho-Cho to come home with me. I slumped into a corner of the back seat and ignored their efforts to cheer me.
 
Morning was no better.
‘Pull yourself together!' Evangeline snapped the most useless words in the world at me.
‘Shan't!' I brooded into a bowl of soggy cornflakes, topped with mushy slices of a banana long past its ‘best by' date. The sooner this establishment found a decent housekeeper, the better.
‘Do you realize that this was my first opening in nearly twenty years when I didn't have my little Fleur cheering me on?' Dame Cecile, the thrill of last night's ovations fading into memory, was doing some brooding of her own. ‘I don't know how I managed to go on.'
‘You were magnificent, Cecile.' Evangeline was prepared to be more forbearing with her old friend than with me. ‘And you, too, Matilda,' she added hastily.
‘It
did
go rather well.' Matilda managed to sound modest while still glowing with triumph. There was nothing on her horizon to dim her achievement.
‘Is this all we're having for breakfast?' That is, not until Soroya stalked into the room and glowered at the box of cornflakes. ‘No devilled kidneys? No kedgeree? I've worked until dawn. I need something better than this to keep my strength up!'
As one, we turned to regard her coldly. The temperature in the room instantly dropped at least ten degrees.
‘This is insufferable!' Soroya was back to normal. All that joy and delight in her ‘daughter's' success she had been babbling about last night had evaporated without an audience she could impress. ‘Have you contacted the agency yet? We must get a housekeeper!'
‘I
have
been rather busy with other concerns,' Matilda retorted icily.
‘Oh, yes, you're your father's daughter, all right,' Soroya said, as though there might have been any doubt about it. ‘You're all the same – your generation – '
Matilda stiffened. Her head reared back and her eyes flashed fire.
‘Selfish and thoughtless!' Heedless of the danger signals, Soroya began listing the genetic shortcomings. ‘Always putting yourself first. Never a thought for anyone else – '
‘That will be quite enough!' Matilda stood up abruptly. ‘I will not be insulted in my own home in front of my own guests.'
‘Your father's home,' Soroya corrected. ‘If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be here.'
The same could be said of Soroya. Matilda took a deep breath and seemed about to say it, then recollected her guests. She glared at Soroya instead.
‘I don't expect gratitude, which is just as well.' Soroya wrapped a martyr's cloak around her. ‘I allow you to occupy the house rent-free in my absence. I never complain about your filling it with your friends and hangerson – '
‘Just try charging rent!' Matilda flared. ‘This is my house! My father never contributed a penny – not to the house, nor to my support, nor my mother's. He preferred to throw his money away on … on his latest doxy!'
‘Not another word!' Soroya drew herself up imperiously. ‘I will not listen to you sully your father's memory. Nor will I be foolish enough to expect any sort of apology from you – now or in the future. We will not speak of this matter again!' She turned on her heel and sailed out of the room.
‘Of all the women my father toyed with,' Matilda finally broke the silence, ‘that had to be the one he married!'
‘More to the point,' Evangeline said, ‘she was the one he was married to when he died. She wouldn't have lasted much longer than the others, if he'd remained alive and true to form.'
It was a nice try at comfort, but could have been more tactful. After all, Matilda's mother was high on the roster of ex-wives.
‘I've got to do something about this!' Matilda slumped back into her chair despairingly, buying her face in her hands. ‘Now that they're doing more filming in this country, she's planning to take up residence. I can stand her for short periods of time, but not indefinitely. I've got to do something!'
‘Frame a copy of your deeds and hang them on the wall in her room,' Dame Cecile suggested. ‘Make sure it's just a copy.'
‘Throw her out.' Evangeline was all for simplicity. ‘Just
change the locks while she's away filming and leave her packed suitcases outside the front door.'
‘And wouldn't that give the tabloids a field day?' Matilda was more practical. ‘I don't need that kind of publicity.'
‘Quite right,' Dame Cecile said. ‘It would do the show no good, either. It may be a hit, but we can't afford to be complacent.'
There was a clatter at the back door and it swung open. Eddie stumbled into the kitchen, laden down with toolbox, cans of paint and brushes.
‘I'll ‘ave those bookcases finished for you before lunch,' he told Matilda. ‘Then I'll paint them. Tomorrow – ' he turned to me – ‘I'll take care of that dodgy shelf in your closet.'
‘Wonderful!' Matilda enthused. ‘I don't know what we'd do without you, Eddie.'
‘Yeah, right, that's all very well and I don't mean to be nasty – but I wish you
were
doing without me. I mean, ‘ow much longer can they make me stay ‘ere? I've got a life – and it's up in London. I want to get back to it.'
‘You should have asked Superintendent Thursby about that last night,' I said. ‘He was at the opening and you saw him – and you went the other way.'
‘Yeah, well, I remembered something else I 'ad to do.' He avoided my eyes. ‘Anyway, you don't always want to remind the coppers that you're still around.'
‘If they don't remember you're around,' I pointed out reasonably, ‘they can't tell you you're free to go.'
‘Right. I just don't like the bloke. I'll tell you this, there's some difference in the coppers now and when you're driving a cab full of deprived kiddies down to the seaside on their annual outing, which is the only time I saw the coppers here before.'
‘Yes, but you're on the other side of the law now,' Evangeline said pleasantly.
‘Yeah …' He slitted his eyes at her. ‘And I know who I've got to thank for that, don't I?'
‘Circumstances, circumstances …' Evangeline waved her hand airily. ‘These things could happen to anyone.'
‘But they don't. They only ‘appen to you.' He gave her a bleak look. ‘And to me, when I'm around you.'
‘Yes,' Evangeline said, ‘I'm afraid we have been a bit remiss about you. Don't worry.' He immediately looked worried. ‘We'll talk to Superintendent Thursby and get you sorted out.'
‘Look,' he said, ‘you don't need to go near the police. What about that lawyer who got me out on bail? Let ‘im do it.'
‘Nonsense! It's Thursby's case. He'll know just what's going on. We'll take him to lunch, or perhaps dinner, and have a long, friendly discuss—' Her mobile trilled abruptly.
‘Oh, for heaven's sake!' She snatched it from her bag and flung it at me. ‘Tell that woman to use the land line and stop ringing my number! I don't keep the phone for her convenience – or yours, either!'
‘Sorry,' I said, catching it. ‘She doesn't mean to – ' I broke off. Apologies were premature. It was Nigel's voice bleating at me.
‘Evangeline? Evangeline? Who's there? I want to speak to Evangeline.'
‘It's for you.' I handed the mobile back to her and watched her face change as she listened to Nigel's frantic tones.
‘What do you mean?' Her voice was as thunderous as her face. ‘You told me I couldn't lose!'
I couldn't hear the words but the frantic pitch of the babbled explanations and reassurances was unmistakable. There went another of Nigel's get-rich-quick schemes down the drain – and this time it was carrying Evangeline along with it.
‘You promised!' The incredulity in her voice belied the fact that both of us had learned a long time ago never to trust a promise, any promise, no matter who made it.
The high-pitched babble rushed on non-stop. Evangeline's
face relaxed as she gradually allowed herself to be mollified. Obviously with more promises.
‘See that you do!' she said severely and rang off. ‘That's settled,' she told me. ‘Now – let's tackle dear Superintendent Thursby.'
 
Somewhere between the lobster bisque and the steak au poivre, I began to suspect that Superintendent Hector Thursby was toying with us. By the Poires Hélène, I was sure of it. By the time the demitasses, petits fours and mints arrived, I was convinced that it was his sole ambition to make complete and utter fools of us.
He was going about it the right way, concentrating on Evangeline, leading her on to ever more outrageous statements and speculations. She had just stated as fact her opinion that Mr Stuff Yours had been involved with international jewel thieves, who were stuffing precious gems into the body cavities of dead animals and smuggling them into the country that way. And out of the country as well.
‘Mmm, yes,' he murmured. ‘I seem to think I saw that television play, too.'
‘And what about drugs?' Evangeline was not to be daunted. ‘That would be a perfect way to smuggle drugs into the country. Have you had the ashes tested for traces of drugs?'
‘There are rather a lot of ashes.' His murmur remained diffident, but a telltale twitch at the corners of his mouth gave him away. ‘Have you any suggestions as to where we might start?'
I tried to signal caution, but she was paying no attention.
‘How about that horse? It was big enough to hold half a warehouse worth of drugs.'
‘Yes, it was big, wasn't it? However, it dates back to 1937, favourite hunter of a local lord, had to be shot when it broke its neck in a nasty fall. He had it mounted and
kept it in his conservatory. Upon his death in 1981, the family donated it to a small private museum – with great relief, no doubt. It's been there ever since, until about six months ago when it went to Stuff Yours for some minor repairs and a brush-up. It was scheduled to go straight back into the museum when finished.'
‘Oh.' That took the wind out of Evangeline's sails, but only momentarily. ‘Then how about – ?'
‘Amazingly well documented, wasn't it?' I put in. What was really amazing was that Thursby should have had all that information at his fingertips. He'd been doing more homework than Evangeline was giving him credit for.
‘Bit of a local curiosity, that horse.' He shrugged off his expertise. ‘Newspapers run articles about it when not much else is happening. And, once in a while, organizations borrow it for parades or promotions.'
‘Smuggling, jewellery thefts, drugs – ' Abruptly, Evangeline swept them all aside with a wave of her hand. ‘The point is, Eddie can't possibly have had anything to do with any of that. It's high time you allowed him to go back to London.'
‘Oh, I don't know.' Thursby bared his teeth (‘What very big teeth you have, Grandmother') in a grim smile. ‘Some people might think a taxi driver ideally placed to act as a fence or drug dealer. Driving all over the city, with no suspicion attached to any place he stops. It would go down well with the shady customers too. They could call him and he'd meet them anywhere.'
‘Never!' I said. ‘Not Eddie!' If that was the way he was thinking, no wonder he wouldn't let Eddie leave town.
‘Complete nonsense!' Evangeline said. ‘No wonder you aren't getting anywhere with the case if you're wasting your time trying to trump up evidence against an innocent man!'
Oh-oh! She'd gone too far. The planes of his face shifted subtly and hardened. A nasty gleam came into his eyes.
‘She didn't mean – ' I began defensively.
‘I think she made her meaning quite clear,' he said.
BOOK: The Cat Who Wasn't a Dog
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