Regard for the dead, p.20
Regard for the Dead, page 20
“Then you will have to hit the streets.”
“We got lucky before,” Kevin sighed. “Maybe we can get lucky again.”
49
Friday, August 24
7:08 p.m.
The sun dipped below the tops of the city buildings, blanketing the streets in shadow. The humid air was still, and the day’s accumulated heat radiated from the pavement. Vehicles growled along Spruce Street, with occasional brake squeaks and honks punctuating the low background note of engines. Kevin, Mark, Brian, and Johnston walked east from the apartment to the corner of Spruce and Ninth. Pausing on the street corner, Kevin described the evening’s objective.
“The Marines might call this an area denial operation. If we can make it hard to earn a living around here, the cat will move on. Hopefully, moving downhill toward the river, where we can squeeze its area down to nothing and catch it. Tonight, we’re going block by block to identify obvious hiding places and find anybody who might have seen it. We’ll hand out flyers and get the folks to call in any sightings. We may get lucky with some information about its location and direction of movement.” From his backpack, he passed around yellow reflective vests and clipboards with information flyers.
“So, what’s the play?” Mark asked, “Because I doubt we’re going to get any help saying we’re trying to find an inter-species creature that’s part human and part cat.”
“We’re doing an urban animal study for Penn State, and we need to find this cat because his tracker came off.”
Mark examined the flyer and commented, “Sounds like a good story. The logo makes it look really official.”
“But how about my home phone number on the flyer! I’m not so cool with that,” Brian objected.
“Sorry, what else was I supposed to put on the flyer?” Kevin offered.
“It’s a little on the unethical side, but most of the people we encounter won’t know anything,” Johnston said in a flat voice. “As we get away from high traffic areas, I think we’ll get better results. Remember to lead with the picture on the flyer and don’t forget to mention the broken tail. It will get you past people’s natural suspicions.”
“Sounds like a scam to abduct children,” Mark observed. Then, in a breathless voice he said, “Hey little girl, have you seen my kinky tail pussy cat?”
“Like I said,” Johnston replied.
“Alright, let’s get going,” Kevin encouraged. “Brian and Mark go up to Tenth and then go south to Lombard and circle back on Ninth. We’ll go down to Eighth. Cover all the alleys, doorways, and behind the dumpsters. Don’t forget to shine your flashlight into every dark corner. If we don’t meet on Ninth, the first back to the apartment will call the other’s cell phone.”
The two search parties split up and started toward their respective streets. Kevin and Johnston walked east between the tall buildings of the Pennsylvania Hospital. The foot traffic was light and there weren’t many places for a cat to hide along Spruce Street. When they turned the corner, the street passed between two green spaces. To the right was the hospital complex and passageways between the various buildings. To the left was a grassy area with a paved loop path.
“This area has some good hiding places.” Johnston observed.
“Let’s try the loop first,” Kevin said while pointing to the grassy area. “Then we’ll come back to the hospital.” They crossed the street and saw several people with small dogs. “I’ll go left. You go right, and we’ll meet back here.”
Kevin approached the first person he came to, holding up the flier in front of himself like a shield. “Pardon me. We’re trying to locate a feral cat. It’s part of a study. It’s easily distinguished by a kink in its tail. Have you seen it?” The older woman held a small quivering chihuahua on a gold chain leash that yipped at Kevin’s approach. She told the dog to be quiet and looked at the photo for a moment.
“There aren’t many cats around here. If Zsa Zsa saw one, I’d still be chasing her. Sorry, I can’t help you,” she said. Kevin thanked her and moved on. Farther up the walk there was another woman sitting on a bench. She was watching a medium size dog, trailing its leash, sniffing around the grassy area. At Kevin’s approach she snapped her fingers and the dog returned directly to her. It sat down at her feet and panted.
“Hi, I’m hoping you can help me,” Kevin declared, offering a flyer. The dog followed Kevin’s movements with alert eyes.
“I’ve never heard of this study. I usually know about these things.”
“Uh, we’re tracking feral cats with radio collars. This one is particularly active. That is until it shook loose from the collar.”
“Interesting,” she sniffed. “I saw a similar cat around here a week ago, but I haven’t seen it recently.”
“This one has a hitch in its tail,” Kevin offered
“I didn’t really see the tail.”
“Did you notice anything peculiar about its behavior, by any chance?”
“No, it just seemed to pass through late in the evening. We don’t see cats around here much. This area is mostly dogs, so they tend to stay away.”
“I appreciate your time,” Kevin said. “Please call that number if you think of anything else. It will really help if we can find Morris.”
“Morris. That’s funny,” the woman smiled.
Kevin and Johnston converged on the far side of the loop and walked south. “Anything?” Kevin asked.
“One sighting. A beagle chased a light-color cat a week ago.”
“Okay, we’re just getting started.”
“I did come up with something else we can use,” Johnston offered.
“What’s that.”
“We need to zero in on the street people in the area. They seem to be our indirect target anyway. The locals will know about them just as much as a stray cat,” she said.
“Genius. I guess that’s why you get the big money.”
“It’s part of the job.”
On the way back to Eigth street, Kevin suggest Johnston call Mark with the recommendation.
“I already did.”
“Damn, you’re good,” Kevin exclaimed.
“Just the tip of the iceberg, sailor,” Johnston grinned. “By the way, you gave a nice little briefing back there. Good job taking charge.”
“Just like the Navy. Show a little initiative, and they make you the boss,” Kevin shrugged.
“I’m impressed. You can think on your feet, and you really care.”
“I guess so,” he said, after a pause he continued, “but I’m still not sure why. Most people would just let this cat thing go.”
“You aren’t most people,” Johnston said. “It’s what I like about you.”
50
Friday, August 24
7:29 p.m.
Mark and Brian made their way south on Tenth Street. The few people they encountered acknowledged them but kept walking. They searched the alleys along the street but didn’t find any sign of the cat. Returning from an alley, Mark’s phone began making an ascending ping noise. He pulled it from his pocket, touched a button, and held it to his ear. “Yo,” he said, then listened in silence for a moment. “Will do,” Mark said and put the phone back in his pocket. He then called to Brian, who had wandered to the other side of the street. “Della says we need to inquire about street people in the area, too.”
“Really?” Brian gasped in disbelief.
“Yeah, it actually makes sense. That’s how we found the cat in the first place.”
“Okay. Roll the bums, too, but I wouldn’t go around calling Johnston by her first name if I were you, and definitely don’t say I told you about it,” Brian chuckled.
“She’s that touchy?” Mark asked.
“She is, and she’s got a gun.”
“Okay, okay, enough said,” Mark agreed.
Walking south to Clinton Street, they encountered more pedestrians. Brian approached two young men waiting on the corner. Holding out a flyer, he said, “Pardon me, we’re trying to locate this cat. Have you seen it?”
“Oh, I can’t help you,” said the closer of the two. The man flipped his long blonde hair with his hand and proclaimed, “I’m an animal lover. Keeping pets is cruel. Who am I to deny an animal its rights?”
Brian winced and then tried again. “It’s a stray cat. It has a kink in its tail. Have you seen it?”
“Ignore him, he got started early tonight,” the other man said. “I’ve seen it. It’s a very rude cat. I offered it some dolphin-safe tuna and hormone-free milk, but it wasn’t interested. Then when I tried to pick it up, it scratched me.” The man extended his hand, palm down and fingers spread wide. With his other hand, he pointed to a group of parallel scratches.
“It got you good. Did it hurt?” Brian asked while looking closer at the scratch.
“Not so much, but it wouldn’t stop bleeding for days.”
“Do you normally bleed easily?”
“No, I thought it might be the supplements my holistic advisor recommended.”
“Could be,” Brian offered, “but that sounds like the right cat. When did you see it last?”
“It hasn’t been around here for a while,” the second man said.
The blond man returned to the conversation after wandering a few steps away and then coming back. “I saw it yesterday. It came to see me at the ACME grocery store. I think it’s a very loving cat. I would adopt it, but I can’t deny it the freedom to be itself.”
“What’s that? We didn’t go to the ACME yesterday.” The second man stepped closer to Brian and whispered, “He’s on a lot of medication. Sometimes he loses track of time. We were at the ACME the day before yesterday. I’m not sure what he’s talking about. I didn’t see the kitty.”
“We’ll get down that way soon. Is that the ACME on Fifth?”
“Yes,” he said. Brian nodded and started to walk off.
“I hope you find your pussy!” the blonde man said with a giggle.
“Thanks, me too,” Brian said with a wink. He stepped across the curb and jogged to catch up with Mark on the far side. Drawing alongside Mark, Brian said, “I got some good information from those two.”
“Really? I though they were trying to hook up with one of Philly’s finest hose handlers,” Mark observed.
“I’ll leave that to the guys on the calendar.”
“So, what did they know?” Mark inquired.
“They had some interactions with our cat. The one guy is probably very sick, and the cat was checking him out. The other guy tried to feed it and got scratched for his trouble.”
“Was it a bleeder?”
“He said it took days to stop,” Brian said.
“How long since they saw it last?”
“The feeder said a while ago. The other guy said he saw it the day before yesterday at the ACME on Fifth.”
“Nice! That’s a solid lead.”
“Yep. He wasn’t a very good witness, but maybe we can refocus our search further east.”
51
Friday, August 24
8:13 p.m.
The sun was fully down, but the night was still warm. The street echoed with the sound of air conditioners rattling in window frames and on rooftops. Kevin and Johnston walked west in the semi-darkness of Lombard Street, aiming their flashlights into shadowed corners and alleys. “I think we’ve run the course of tonight’s search,” Kevin surmised while wiping perspiration from his forehead. “We haven’t seen anybody in two blocks.”
“Hang in there. We could still find something on the way back,” Johnston said while examining the details of the street. Ahead, the shape of two men with reflective bands could be seen coming toward them. “I think we can hold up at the corner and wait for Larry and Curly.”
“I see them,” Kevin seconded. “I hope they did better than us.” Then after a moment’s thought, he asked, “Which one is which, and does that make me Moe?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” laughed Johnston.
The shadows of the men paused at the bottom of a stoop and engaged a person sitting there. After a brief exchange, they continued to where Kevin and Johnston were waiting under a streetlamp.
Emerging into the light, Mark declared, “I think we got some good news.”
“Definitely a solid lead,” chimed in Brian.
“Good, let’s head back to the apartment to sort it out,” Kevin replied. The four spread out on both sides of Ninth Street and walked north. A few people sat on their front steps, but nobody had information about the cat. When they arrived at the intersection of Clinton and Ninth, Mark and Brian stopped under some trees near the Pennsylvania Hospital’s old front facade.
“What have you guys got?” Kevin called across the street.
“Hang tight,” Brian replied before deviating off the street. Mark followed and soon they were crouched down next to a man sitting on a bench. Next to him was a tattered half-full garbage bag. “Hello friend, I was wondering if you could help me with something?”
“I ain’t got nothing for ya,” was the response.
“We’re just looking for a missing cat. Maybe you’ve seen it?” Mark added.
“Ain’t got no cat, don’t want no cat.”
“Okay, sorry to bother you,” Brian said, backing away from the man.
“Only cat I know about was down by Starr Park.”
“What color was it?” Mark asked, approaching the man again.
“It had some orange stripes and a busted tail, and it was real friendly with Hector. Right before he died.”
“What happen to Hector?” Brian asked.
“He got pneumonia and was breathing hard. Couldn’t move his wheelchair no more. Cat was sleeping with him. Hector said it was his guardian angel come to take him to Heaven. Then he died. I ain’t seen the cat since.” The man was silent for a moment, and then said, “Maybe it really was his angel.”
“How long ago was that?” Brian inquired.
“Some couple days ago. I ain’t got no calendar, and I don’t want no calendar.”
“Thanks. That’s a big help,” Mark said, pulling a ten-dollar bill from his wallet and setting it on the man’s garbage bag of belongings.
The two then walked back to the street and rejoined Kevin and Johnston.
“Good information?” Kevin asked.
“Yeah. Another good lead. A very good lead,” Brian nodded.
52
Friday, August 24
10:13 p.m.
Four people overwhelmed the basement apartment, leaving little room to move. Kevin leaned against the refrigerator, crunching on ice cubes from an orange plastic cup imprinted with the logo of the 76ers basketball team. Johnston and Brian slouched on the couch, drinking beer from bottles dripping with condensation. Mark sat on the floor next to the old TV and gulped from a water bottle until it was empty. “Now, a beer please,” he panted, tossing the empty toward Kevin.
Kevin caught it and dropped it into the garbage can while simultaneously retrieving a beer from the refrigerator. He opened the bottle, passed it to Mark, then flipped the cap over his shoulder into the garbage.
“Thanks. That was a smooth move,” Mark said.
“No problem, but don’t try it at home. I’m a trained professional,” Kevin said as everybody broke into guffaws. After another moment, Kevin asked, “Is everybody cooled off enough to think?” Brian and Johnston nodded while Mark began sipping from his beer. “Detective Johnston, why don’t you start with what we got. Mark, do you mind taking notes?” Kevin said, tossing a note pad and pen into his lap.
“I guess I’ll take notes,” Mark said after putting down his beer and wiping his condensation-damp hand on the carpet.
Johnston began speaking when Mark was ready. “We handed out twenty-two flyers and interviewed seven people. Four were before we added asking about street people. Only three had seen a stray cat that matched, or loosely matched the description of our perp. All the sightings were about a week old. One was in the green space on Eighth. The other two were on the street, but the exact location was not provided.”
“That pretty well sums it up,” Kevin said. “I think we had a few cooperative folks that will call if they see the cat. The rest, probably not,” Kevin added. He took a swallow of the meltwater in his cup and looked at Brian. “How about you guys?”
“Well, we gave away almost all our flyers, but I didn’t count. We talked to about twenty- five people, wouldn’t you say?”
Mark looked up. “Something like that. We’ll keep score next time,” he chuckled.
“Anyway, we got really lucky on a couple. The funniest was these two guys waiting for a taxi. They knew quite a bit about the cat. The first guy was pretty whacked out on something. I don’t think he knew what planet he was on. His companion said he tried to feed a yellow cat some milk and tuna but got a good scratch on his hand as thanks.”
“An oozing scratch by any chance?” Kevin asked.
“He said it took a while to stop bleeding. I saw it, and I’m guessing it was our cat’s handiwork,” Brian said, then Mark jumped in.
“The over-medicated guy then told us he’d seen the same cat very recently at the ACME store on South Fifth maybe two days ago.” Brian nodded his head and Mark continued, “But given his state, the companion doubted his reliability as a witness.”
“His sense of time might be distorted, but I’m willing to bet he saw it,” Johnston said.
Kevin nodded and asked, “What about the guy by the hospital?”
“That’s the other good one,” Brian smiled. “He saw a cat in Starr Gardens Park, just a couple blocks from the ACME. It was hanging around a guy in a wheelchair named Hector. He said he saw it up close. On top of that, Hector died very recently, probably from complications of pneumonia, with no sign of the cat since.”
