Shallow Graves - Jeremiah Healy Read Online Free Page B

mate and the skipper,
too . . .' "
    Nancy put a hand to her mouth. "Gilligan's
Island!"
    I said, "Maybe it is time for the check."
    We walked up Commonwealth to Fairfield and then over
to Beacon and the condominium I was renting from a doctor doing a
two-year residency in Chicago. We got only as far as the parking lot
because Nancy wanted to sleep home in South Boston to be fresh for
battle the next morning. My silver Prelude, 'old' but reliable, took
us to Southie, finding as always a spot on the street near her place.
    I climbed the stairs behind Nancy. Drew Lynch, a cop
whose parents owned the property, opened his door on the second
floor, just to be sure that she was okay. As we reached her door on
the third, I thought for a moment about the model in Holt's photo.
Mau Tim Dani died in an apartment on the same floor in a probably
similar building across town in the South End. Nancy turned the key
and pushed the door. A ball of fur swirled around her feet, biting me
at the sock line of my shoes.
    I said, "Can't you teach him not to do this?"
    "He's an attack cat, John. Aren't you,
Renfie1d?"
    At the sound of her voice, Renfield backed off. A
gray tiger, the yellow eyes seemed to move independently as he looked
for any exposed flesh. Nancy had named him after the Englishman in
Dracula who eats small mammals. A few months before, he'd been
declawed up front and neutered, but at almost a year old, he was
still a terror with his teeth and rear claws.
    I said, "Do they make cat muzzles?"
    Nancy swung her briefcase onto the kitchen table. "I
don't know why you two don't get along better."
    "He senses I'm a competitor for your
affections."
    "He's a eunuch now. Maybe I should take him for
therapy."
    I moved in behind her. "Depends on what
affections he's competing for."
    Nancy arched back into me just a little. "I
think we left off with your thumb pad."
    "Shall I start making the rest of me
accessible?"
    "No. It's my birthday, I get the bathroom
first."
    "And in the meantime?"
    "You get Renfield. Try to tire him out so he
doesn't bother us."
    "You have any tranquilizer darts?"
    Nancy moved into the bedroom and closed the door
behind her.
    I sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, unbuttoning
my collar and tugging down my tie. Renfield hunkered onto his
haunches, eyeing the end of my tie with bad intent.
    I said, "Don't even think about it."
    Renfield suddenly looked up and past me. I fell for
it. As soon as my head was turned, he was on my lap, the rear paws
pedaling for purchase, the claws sinking through my suit and the
teeth sinking through my tie.
    I yelled and stood up, prying him off and dropping
him from about waist height. He hit the floor on all fours, but cried
out, slinking away and favoring his right hip in a limping circle.
Nancy's head and bra-strapped shoulders came around the bedroom door.
"What was that?"
    "I don't know. I just dropped him and — "
    But she'd already spotted Renfield, now lurching near
the pantry shelves, trying to scuttle under the lowest one.
"Renfield? Renfield, what happened?"
    "Nance, I told you. He — "
    She was out in the kitchen now, trying to corner him
gently.
    "Jesus Mary, John! He's just a little cat. What
did you do to him?"
    "Nothing. Like I said, he jumped on me and I
dropped him."
    "It looks like his leg is broken."
    "It can't be. I just let him go from like here."
    Nancy glanced at my hands in front of my belt, then
finally got Renfield bracketed. He let her pick him up, a little at a
time. Once in her arms, Renfield hissed at me.
    "John, he's hurt."
    "He probably just pulled something."
    "Pulled something? The marathoner's a vet now?"
    "Nancy, give me a break, okay? I dropped him
from like three feet in the air, and he landed on all fours. He's a
cat, he ought to be able to take that."
    "Well, obviously he couldn't." She shifted
him carefully to hold him more easily. "I should never have had
him declawed."
    "Nance, he was shredding your furniture. And
spraying it, too. Were you