Read The Cat Who Turned on and Off for Free Online Page B

chuckled. “Probably that the auctioneer was letting things go too cheap. There were some terrific buys.”
    “All the junkers call Andy’s death an accident, but I met someone on the street who said he was murdered.”
    “No, it was an accident. The police said so. And yet . . .” Her voice trailed away.
    “What were you going to say?”
    “Well . . . it seems strange that Andy would be careless enough to slip and fall on that thing. He was a very . . . a very prudent young man, you know.”
    Qwilleran smoothed his moustache hurriedly. “I’d like to hear more about Andy,” he said. “Why don’t I go and get my luggage and the cats . . . ?”
    “You’ll take the apartment?” Mrs. Cobb clappedher hands. “I’m so glad! It will be nice to have a professional writer in the house. It will give us class, if you know what I mean.”
    She gave him a key to the downstairs door and accepted a month’s rent.
    “We don’t bother to lock our doors up here,” she said, “but if you want a key, I’ll find you one.”
    “Don’t worry about it. Nothing that I own is worth locking up.”
    She gave him a mischievous look. “Mathilda walks right through doors, anyway.”
    “Who?”
    “Mathilda. Our ghost.”
    Qwilleran went back to his hotel and made one telephone call before packing his suitcases. He called the Photo Lab at the Daily Fluxion and asked for Tiny Spooner.
    “How’d the pictures turn out, Tiny?”
    “Fair. They’re on the dryer. Can’t say they’re graphically articulate. Too many incongruous shapes.”
    “Leave them in the Feature slot, and I’ll pick them up Monday. And Tiny,” Qwilleran said, “I want to ask you one question. Give me the truth. Did you or didn’t you—”
    “I was nowhere near that blasted crockery. I swear! I looked at it, that’s all, and it started to jiggle.”
    “And how about the chandelier and the big mirror?”
    “Don’t try to pin those on me, either! So help me, I was twenty feet away when they let loose!”

FIVE
    The cats knew something was afoot. When Qwilleran returned to Medford Manor, both were huddled in wary anticipation.
    “Come on, you guys. We’re moving out of Medicare Manor,” Qwilleran said.
    From the closet he brought the soup carton with airholes punched in the side. Koko had been through this routine twice before, and he consented to hop in, but Yum Yum was having none of it.
    “Come on, sweetheart.”
    Yum Yum responded by turning into a lump of lead, her underside fused to the carpet and anchoredby twenty efficient little hooks. Only when Qwilleran produced a can opener and a small can with a blue label did she loosen her grip. With a sensuous gurgle in her throat, she leaped onto the dresser.
    “All right, sister,” the man said as he grabbed her. “It was a dirty trick, but I had to do it. We’ll open the chicken when we get to Junktown.”
    When Qwilleran and his two suitcases, four cartons of books, and one carton of cats arrived at the Cobb mansion, he hardly recognized his apartment. The dentist’s chair and parlor organ were gone, and the pot-bellied stove from the auction was standing in one corner. Two lamps had been added: a reading lamp sprouting out of a small brass cash register, and a floor lamp that had once been a musket. The elderly battle-ax over the fireplace still glowered at him, and the depressing rug was still grieving on the floor, but there were certain improvements: a roll-top desk, a large open cupboard for books, and an old-fashioned Morris chair—a big, square contraption with reclining back, soft black leather cushions, and ottoman to match.
    As soon as Qwilleran opened the soup carton, Yum Yum leaped out, dashed insanely in several directions, and ended on top of the tall cupboard. Koko emerged slowly, with circumspection. He explored the apartment systematically and thoroughly, approved the red-cushioned seats of the two gilt chairs, circled the pot-bellied stove three times and