The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams - By Lawrence Block Page 0,25
you get a slightly wacko lady, and next thing you know she’s up to her armpits in cats. But most of the Cat Ladies start out normal. By the time you get to the end of the story they’re nuts, all right, but having thirty or forty cats’ll do that to you. It sneaks up on you, and before you know it you’re over the edge.”
“And the Third Cat’s the charm, huh?”
“No question. Bern, there are primitive cultures that don’t really have numbers, not in the sense that we do. They have a word that means ‘one,’ and other words for ‘two’ and ‘three,’ and after that there’s a word that just means ‘more than three.’ And that’s how it is in our culture with cats. You can have one cat, you can have two cats, you can even have three cats, but after that you’ve got ‘more than three.’”
“And you’re a Woman With Cats.”
“You got it.”
“I’ve got it, all right. I’ve got your Third Cat. Is that the real reason you never mentioned it? Because you were planning all along to palm the little bugger off on me?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Swear to God, Bern. A couple of times over the years the subject of a dog or cat has come up, and you’ve always said you didn’t want a pet. Did I ever once press you?”
“No.”
“I took you at your word. It sometimes crossed my mind that you might have a better time in life if you had an animal to love, but I managed to keep it to myself. It never even occurred to me that you could use a working cat. And then when I found out about your rodent problem—”
“You knew just how to solve it.”
“Well, sure. And it’s a great solution, isn’t it? Admit it, Bern. Didn’t it do your heart good this morning to have Raffles there to greet you?”
“It was all right,” I admitted. “At least he was still alive. I had visions of him lying there dead with his paws in the air, and the mice forming a great circle around his body.”
“See? You’re concerned about him, Bern. Before you know it you’re going to fall in love with the little guy.”
“Don’t hold your breath. Carolyn? What was his name before it was Raffles?”
“Oh, forget it. It was a stupid name.”
“Tell me.”
“Do I have to?” She sighed. “Well, it was Andro.”
“Andrew? What’s so stupid about that? Andrew Jackson, Andrew Johnson, Andrew Carnegie—they all did okay with it.”
“Not Andrew, Bern. Andro.”
“Andrew Mellon, Andrew Gardner…not Andrew? Andro?”
“Right.”
“What’s that, Greek for Andrew?”
She shook her head. “It’s short for Androgynous.”
“Oh.”
“The idea being that his surgery had left the cat somewhat uncertain from a sexual standpoint.”
“Oh.”
“Which I gather was also the case for Patrick, although I don’t believe surgery had anything to do with it.”
“Oh.”
“I never called him Andro myself,” she said. “Actually, I didn’t call him anything. I didn’t want to give him a new name because that would mean I was leaning toward keeping him, and—”
“I understand.”
“And then on the way over to the bookstore it just came to me in a flash. Raffles.”
“As in raffling off a car to raise money for a church, I think you said.”
“Don’t hate me, Bern.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“It’s been no picnic, living a lie for the past three months. Believe me.”
“I guess it’ll be easier for everybody now that Raffles is out of the closet.”
“I know it will. Bern, I didn’t want to trick you into taking the cat.”
“Of course you did.”
“No, I didn’t. I just wanted to make it as easy as possible for you and the cat to start off on the right foot. I knew you’d be crazy about him once you got to know him, and I thought anything I could do to get you over the first hurdle, any minor deception I might have to practice—”
“Like lying your head off.”
“It was in a good cause. I had only your best interests at heart, Bern. Yours and the cat’s.”
“And your own.”
“Well, yeah,” she said, and flashed a winning smile. “But it worked out, didn’t it? Bern, you’ve got to admit it worked out.”
“We’ll see,” I said.
CHAPTER
Seven
Well, it seemed to be working out. I’d had plenty of misgivings early on. I was sure I’d be tripping over the animal all the time, but he was remarkably good at keeping out of the way. He did his ankle-rubbing routine every morning when I opened up, but that was just his way of making sure I