The manservant took the cat, like he was stealing somebody’s virginity.
“You have to give us a ticket, with your information on it,” Morgan said.
“Not gonna happen… besides, the cat won’t be walking around for very long.”
“What are you going to do with it?” I asked.
“That’s my business—or should I say, my master’s business.”
The manservant left, getting into his Lincoln. It was a black sedan.
“Should we follow him?”
“Listen, Andy—we kill cats all day. Why are you concerned?”
“It’s a mystery.”
“That’s true, and we’ve gassed all of our cats for this evening.”
“Yeah—the fire department found two in a tree, and five in the city sewer. We’re low on gas—I need to order more poison.”
“We’d better follow that car.”
“No. Not a good idea. He’d spot us for sure. Let’s just drive-up to the hill house.”
“Can we get through the gate?”
“We’ll have to climb over the wall.”
The night hung around our headlights like black drapes. The stars were tiny pin-pricks, among a sea of rolling clouds. It felt like we were driving to our destiny. Up on the hill, the outline, of the Italian villa, was more like a castle than a home, with a wall, 12 feet tall, enclosing the property.
To be continued…