Familiar Lullaby

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See, Clotilde has led a charmed life. Her parents were owned and loved by a wonderful old couple in midtown. When she and her brothers and sisters were born, it was a blessed event. Every single little kitten was wanted. And the humanoids made sure that each kitty was given a loving home.

That’s not how it works for a lot of cats. Even now, after years of living with Peter and Eleanor, it’s still painful for me to think about my youth.

I never really knew my father. My mother was a beautiful calico. As most cat-lovers know, calico cats are always female. From the day she was born, her humanoids hated her. They didn’t want another female kitty. They didn’t want kittens, and they didn’t want to take the trouble to take her to the vet and get her spayed. So as soon as she was old enough to eat solid foot, they put her in a car and drove to a bad part of town and threw her out in an alley.

They never even named her, but she named herself. Tash. Short for Succotash, that Indian dish of mixed vegetables. She was like that—a mixture of black and white and orange—beautiful. Little and dainty. But life in an alley is hard, and pretty soon, she found herself in the family way.

When I was born, I had two sisters, but they didn’t live. There wasn’t enough food, and they weren’t as strong as I was. I don’t know how Mom managed to keep herself and me fed for those first few weeks. I was just getting old enough to hunt for food and forage in the garbage cans when Mom didn’t come home one night.

I found her the next day. She’d been run over. They didn’t even bother to move her out of the street.

That was the day I left the alley and decided to find a better part of town to live in. I’d been watching humanoids come and go. I followed a car with people dressed in expensive clothes and ended up in a neighborhood not too far from here. I must say, the quality of the garbage was definitely superior. But it was also harder to get to.

At first I thought someone would want me, but they didn’t. They’d throw rocks at me for getting in the garbage or trying to catch a bird. I guess because they had plenty to eat, they never considered that I was hungry.

Anyway, to make a long story short, I was nabbed to be an animal used for experiments. I thought that alley was hell until I discovered what humans could do to an animal in the name of science. That’s when the microfilm was implanted in me, and I became a pawn in a game I didn’t understand. I escaped and met Eleanor, and she met Peter, and as the old saying goes, the rest is history.

Well, enough about the past. Thinking about it doesn’t change the facts. I lucked out and found the best bipeds on the face of the earth to love me. And I have Clotilde. Now I have to do this thing that she’s asked of me. I only hope I can protect her from the facts of the real world for unwanted cats and dogs.

It’s time to head for that little shop, so I now have to go spring Clotilde from her house, which shouldn’t be all that hard since Rose and Preston are so absorbed with the baby. Something good has come of this—Clotilde will have a bit more freedom and a lot more time for amoré with yours truly.

MEL PACED the sidewalk in front of Annie’s Boutique, waiting for Annie Anlage to arrive and open the shop. He hadn’t been completely truthful to the shop owner—she’d bought his story of an abandoned baby hook, line and sinker. Only he hadn’t told her that he intended to prosecute the mother for abandonment. He’d led her to believe he was trying to find the mother to make sure she was okay.

He heard the clack of high heels and turned to meet the petite woman who breathlessly opened the door of the shop and ushered him inside.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mel caught sight of two cats slipping through the door, too. If they were her cats, he was surprised she let them out on the street. Traffic was generally heavy around this part of town and untended animals didn’t stand a chance of survival. He was about to mention the cats when Annie waved her hand around the shop.

“Which basket? Can you find one similar? Maybe I’ll remember who bought it. They’re all handmade and I generally remember my clients.”

Mel took a breath. He’d never imagined there could be so many different shapes, designs, colors and intricate patterns of woven materials. Some were bamboo, others reed, some vine, some seemed to be paper or fabric. They were all exquisite.

“It was a big basket. Like a baby thing. You know, a carrier, with a handle.”

“A bassinet?” Annie asked, smiling at him. “You don’t have children, do you, Detective?”

“No ma’am.” He didn’t bother to add that it wasn’t likely he ever would. He didn’t have enough faith that he could do a child justice.

“Let me see.” She led him to a section of the store that contained larger, more elaborate baskets.

“Like that one,” he said, relieved to see one similar to the one baby David had been left in.

“The Bullrushes model,” Annie said, her voice filled with amusement. “I only made six of those this year. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out who bought them.”

Mel examined the basket, surreptitiously bumping the price tag. His eyes widened. It was nearly four hundred dollars. For a basket!

Annie was already on her way to the desk where she began flipping through invoices. “You have to keep in mind that a lot of times the baskets are bought for gifts. The person who paid for it may have given it away.”

She gave a little cry of success. “Here’s the last one. Yes, it was bought about two weeks ago by—it was a cash purchase.” Her brow furrowed and Mel suddenly felt the lead grow cold.

“Is there a name?”

“I almost always write the name and address. The baskets are guaranteed. It’s part of my policy.” She flipped through several more pages. “You know, I remember this purchase. The woman was adamant that she wouldn’t leave a name. It was very peculiar, like she thought I’d sell her information to some kind of list.”

Or discover that she was planning to dump her baby, Mel thought, but he kept his mouth shut.

“She was a striking woman. Redheaded with huge green eyes. She said it was a gift for someone.”

Mel noticed the black cat sitting behind a huge basket full of peacock feathers. The cat was listening as if he understood every word.

“I gather this woman wasn’t pregnant?” Mel asked. The image of a tall redhead burned into his brain. She kept showing up in the middle of baby stories. Lily Markey.

“No, she wasn’t. I mean if she was, she wasn’t showing. She was a slender, athletic woman. Tall, very striking. I had the impression that I’d seen her before and when I asked her about it, she got all huffy.” She shook her head. “Let me look up the other purchases.”

In a moment she had the list for five names, complete with addresses and telephone numbers. Mel instantly discounted two of the names because he knew the women—and he’d seen them with their new babies. Annie’s Boutique was obviously one shop where the women behind the men of Washington shopped.

“Thank you, Ms. Anlage,” he said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“I just hope the mother is okay. You know, all of the women who come in here are so excited about their babies. I used to work in a department store, and some of the women who came in to buy baby things acted like they were going to prison. I—”

“Thanks for your help,” Mel said. He hurried out of the shop. He knew the kind of women Annie Anlage was talking about. He knew them well. His mother had been one, and as soon as she could dump her responsibility, she’d done so.

The lead he’d obtained wasn’t conclusively connected to Lily Markey. After all, there were thousands of slender, redheaded women with green eyes in Washington. But it was passing strange that wherever he turned in this case, Lily kept popping up. Maybe it was time to pay a visit to her place.

OKAY, CLOTILDE, now’s the time for kitty action. I heard everything Mel Haskin heard, and I watched his mind click to the same conclusion. Of course, he was slightly behind me, because cats are simply smarter than Homo sapiens. But he got to the end of the puzzle, nonetheless. Which means I need to re-evaluate all the data regarding baby David.

Lily Markey is involved in this. I can’t be positive, but I think she might have been the delivery girl. I do know she isn’t the baby’s mother. So who is? Maybe her sister? A friend? Someone she works with? How did she become involved in such a scheme?

There’s a phone book and now I have to find Lily’s address. For a kitty who’s only traveled in the back seat of a Rolls, Clotilde is going to learn the wonders of public transit today.

Time’s a wastin’. Here’s the address, 1414 Union Street. I know exactly where that is.

Dodge, Clotilde! Ms. Anlage has spotted you and she’s making those noises that humanoids make when they see something adorable. Watch out, my princess, or you’re going to be adopted. I’ve got the door, let’s make a break for freedom.

LILY EXAMINED the passport with a growing sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and the ball of freedom for Susie Bishop was already rolling. She had a fake passport under the name Sue Bristol, and she was headed for Heathrow Airport in London, where she would be met by an old friend of Lily’s, a woman who could help Susie build a new life.

“I’m afraid,” Susie said, looking at the passport in Lily’s hands. “Wayman will have someone at the airport watching for me. He knows I’m going to try and escape.”

“I don’t think he’ll expect you to go to Europe,” Lily said.

“You’re probably right about that.” But Susie’s voice belied the words she spoke. “Do you think we could call and check on David?”

It was the question Lily had been dreading. “I think it would be best if we didn’t.”

“You could say you were working on a story. I don’t want to talk to the Johnsons. I just want…”

“I know, Susie. You just want to make the connection, to know again that David is safe.” How was she ever going to help Susie let go of the child? “He is. I’m sure of it. And you have to be too.”

“I didn’t think it would be so hard.” She brushed fresh tears away. “How can I do this?”

Lily went to her and put her hands on her shoulders. “How can you not? What would happen if you went and got David? Where would you go? A single woman, you have a chance of escaping. Your husband will be looking for a pregnant woman or a woman with a child.” She didn’t bother to point out that Susie was going to have a hard time keeping herself together in a new life. The baby was far better off with the Johnsons. Susie knew it, too.

“Everything you say is true. It’s just that—this isn’t right.”

“Your other option is to press charges against your husband.” It was something they’d already discussed.

“And find myself declared an unfit mother. Or dead.”

Susie had made no bones about the fact that Wayman could destroy her reputation or even have her killed, and in such a way that he’d never be prosecuted for the crime. He had that kind of power. Susie wasn’t exaggerating.

“Your flight is at four.” Lily picked up the paperwork. “It’s all arranged. You’ll be fine. I know it.”

She almost dropped the sheaf of papers when she heard the knock on the door. It was so unexpected. She jumped to her feet as Susie scurried into the bedroom.

“Who’s there?” Lily asked.

“Mel Haskin.”

She closed her eyes to give herself a few seconds to think. What was he doing at her door? And what was she going to do? Quickly she tucked the passport and paperwork into a drawer. “I’m coming.”

She glanced around the room to make certain that no sign of Susie had been left in the room, then she opened the door.

“This better be good,” she warned him. She was caught unaware by the excitement she suddenly felt as their eyes connected.

“I’m curious about some things,” Mel said, striking a casual pose against the doorway.

“I’m busy,” she replied. “Maybe later on in the week I’ll have time for your curiosity.” She started to close the door, but his hand halted her.

“You purchased a basket from Annie’s Boutique. A very nice basket. Strangely enough, exactly like the basket that the baby was left at the Johnson house in.”

Lily did everything she could to hide the sudden fear that swept over her. She’d paid cash for the basket. Susie had insisted on buying it—David had to be left in something wonderful, something that would let his new parents understand he was a special child, a wanted child. Now Lily regretted that she hadn’t held firm in her objections. But it was too late for hindsight.

“Don’t bother denying it. The boutique owner positively identified you.”

“Bully for her,” Lily said, taking the tack of tough reporter.

“Lily, I don’t think I have to tell you that you’re playing a dangerous game.”

Lily suddenly remembered that Susie could overhear every word they said. She stepped into the hallway. She almost tripped over a black cat that shot through the open door and into her apartment.

“Hey!” she yelled, as a second cat darted inside.

“Those look exactly like the cats from the Johnsons. And the boutique.” Mel craned his head around Lily for a better view. “I’ll help you catch them.” He started inside.

Lily slammed the door shut behind her. “They’re mine. Leave them alone.”

Mel’s brow was furrowed. “I could swear those are the same cats.”

Lily gave him a long look. “So cats are following you around, are they? That gives a lot of credence to your detective work.”

“Are you denying you bought the basket?”

“I bought a basket. A gift for a friend. So what about it? Is there a law against buying baskets?” She stepped closer and caught the scent of his cologne. “I think you’re about to step across the line, Detective Haskin. You’ve obviously got it in for me for some reason, and you’re trying real hard to tie me into something that I’m not involved in.”

“Oh, you’re involved. I just don’t know how.” He stared directly into her eyes.

“Let me ask you something. I saw that baby. He was well tended. He’s been taken in by a family who wants him. Why are you so determined to make a case out of this?”

Mel didn’t answer instantly. His gaze held hers, and for a moment she thought she saw a flicker of pain. Then it was gone, replaced by a hardness that made her want to step away from him.

“I don’t like women who shirk their responsibilities by dumping babies on doorsteps.”

“That’s a mighty big assumption on your part.”

“Not so big. The baby was abandoned. It was left like a ham or a basket of tomatoes—something that someone might want. But there were no guarantees. What if no one had gone out on that veranda for a day or two? The baby would have starved to death.”