Judas Cat by Dorothy Salisbury Davis Page B

been, Alex? You might have let us know.”
    “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t think I’d be this late.”
    “It’s not so late. We just wanted to know where you were. Waterman was around to see you.”
    “What did he want?”
    “He didn’t say. Altman was looking for you, too. He made himself pretty clear. He wants the coroner’s report published in Friday’s paper.”
    Alex lit a cigarette. “Maybe I did a stupid thing tonight, Dad. Joan and I went up to the county building and found the carcass of the cat where it had been put out for the incinerator. I brought it back to Barnard.”
    Mr. Whiting motioned to Alex for a cigarette.
    “Barnard says it’s been dead too long to tell much, but he’s going to try.”
    They were both thoughtful for a few moments. Then Mr. Whiting asked: “Did you have any trouble getting the cat?”
    “I got it. It seemed like trouble, but I guess it wasn’t. A prisoner at the jail saw me and shook me down for twenty bucks.”
    “That’s not good, Alex. You can’t trust those fellows. And if nothing shows up in the cat you may have yourself in trouble for nothing.”
    “I couldn’t help it, Dad. I had to take that chance. I don’t think he’d recognize me again, and it was either that or have him raise the whole place.”
    “I suppose. Did you tell Barnard the whole story before you involved him?”
    “Yes. He took it with his eyes open. Oh my God …”
    “What is it, Alex?”
    “There were two packages in the box for the incinerator. I wasn’t sure so I took both of them. One’s probably old Andy’s clothes. They’re still in the car trunk.”
    “You can get rid of them in the morning. Now that you’ve gone this far you mustn’t get the jitters about it, Alex. If you do you’re in real trouble.”
    “I don’t have the jitters, Dad. But it’s easier to dump something at night.”
    “All right. Burn them in the furnace now.”
    “Maybe that’s best.” Alex went to the car. The only sounds in the town were the sing-song of the crickets and the croaking of the frogs from Craig’s marsh. The car trunk was empty.

Chapter 11
    A LEX STOOD AT THE side of the car for a few moments. There was the sound of a truck motor somewhere on Highway 64 and a little rustle of the leaves in the wind, but nothing moved at all on Deerpath Avenue. He went back into the house. “It’s gone,” he said.
    “Gone? You mean someone took it from the car?”
    “That’s right. Do you know what this means, Dad? This is the first positive indication that Andy Mattson’s death was not an accident. Everything else might have a natural explanation, but not this.”
    “Are you sure it was the old man’s clothes?”
    “No. Just guessing.”
    “Where could it have been taken?”
    “Either at Barnard’s or in the few minutes I’ve been talking to you.”
    “It was a mistake to give that prisoner that much money, Alex. He must have set them after you immediately.”
    “But how, Dad? I didn’t see anyone around the place except the deputy. He wouldn’t leave the jail unattended. And who would know where I was going? The prisoner didn’t know who I was from Adam.”
    “Two and two add up fast in this, Alex. Anybody knowing what was in the box at the morgue would know who was interested in it. The people knowing the coroner’s verdict narrows it down still further. It comes out to you or Waterman. A phone call at the time might have eliminated him. It’s not the kind of thing he’d have been likely to do anyway.”
    “Then if it was taken here,” Alex said, “it’s pretty sure whoever got it thought he was getting the cat … unless he’d been following me all evening, and I think I’d have known that. If it was taken at Barnard’s place it means they wanted the old man’s clothes. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
    “Nothing makes sense from here,” his father said. “I’ll tell you one thing. You’ve really got Barnard involved now. I think you ought to