The Big Meow

A slow grin spread over the Silent Man’s face. Come on, doll, he said, as the maitre d’ left his podium and headed for the back of the restaurant.

They passed through the front room, followed by the unavoidable stares and laughter of the ehhif already seated there – though Rhiow noted that as many of the stares, interested or envious or sometimes both, were directed toward Helen’s dark good looks as toward the trail of cats behind the Silent Man. In his wake, they all walked into a secondary room with an arched and painted ceiling covered with autumnal outdoor scenes. A bar ran down the right side of this room, and more tables along the left side: and about halfway down was a door into a third room, smaller and more shadowy than either of the first two.

The maitre d’, Helen and the Silent Man went through. This room was as darkly wood-panelled as the others, but was also, to Rhiow’s surprise, nearly full – the front of the restaurant had still been half empty. And the tables were almost entirely occupied by men, most of whom looked up with great interest as Helen walked in behind the maitre d’. Helen gave them all the kind of gracious, cool look that visiting royalty might have bestowed on a crowd of visiting lackeys, and then turned her attention to the table where the maitre d’ had pulled out a chair for her.

It was an excellent spot for them: round, with one side of the table edged into a lace-curtained bay window that looked out into an unassuming back yard space, more a service area than a patio. The window had a high window seat cushioned in red leather: perfect for ehhif children, or People. Urruah and Hwaith leapt up and seated themselves next to Sheba as she jumped down from the Silent Man’s shoulder onto the window seat. Siffha’h and Arhu jumped up next to them. Rhiow leapt onto the window seat’s far side, closest to Helen: and on Helen’s other side, the Silent Man seated himself with his back to the rest of the room, where no one else could see whether he was moving his mouth or not.

“I take it,” Helen said, “that back here, the press won’t be too much in the way?”

The Silent Man smiled at the sound of a question that might as logically have come from some publicity-shy starlet. He put his pad down, scribbled on it briefly by way of camouflage, while saying silently, I wouldn’t worry about it. There’s nobody back here but writers.

Helen smiled, laughing softly. Across the table, Urruah looked over the Silent Man’s arm as he opened the menu. “Steak,” he said. “Liver. Salmon. Brook trout…” Rhiow looked away, eager not to see him actually drool.

“Your usual, sir?” said the maitre d’.

The Silent Man nodded. The maitre d’ turned to Helen. “A glass of wine, perhaps,” she said.

“And for Miss Sheba and her friends? Cream, perhaps? Or is it too early in the day?”

Rhiow was hard put not to laugh out loud. “Cream all around,” Helen said, “by all means.” She smiled at the Silent Man. “Would you like me to handle the orders for the other side of the table?”

The Silent Man nodded, smiled.

The maitre d’ took himself away. Urruah was purring already. “I foresee a very interesting afternoon…” he said.

It’s already been a fairly interesting morning, the Silent Man said. Visited one murder site and had hints about two more.

“Well,” Helen said, “I’ve just come from the live files section at the LAPD.” She was using the Speech now, but in such a way that no one in the room but the People and the Silent Man could hear her. “If we’re discussing the same two murders – the ones at the Chinese, and the one up at Laurel and Highland Trail — then they have something unusual in common with six others that have taken place in the last month.”

Six others? said the Silent Man. Since when does this town have eight murders in a month?

“Since now. And every one of the bodies, when found,” Helen said, “had had its heart cut out.”

Coffee arrived for the Silent Man: he ignored it. Saucers of cream were placed in front of all the People: they paid them no mind, staring at Helen. Helen bestowed a brooding look on the glass of wine that had been brought for her: it was red, like blood.

“Cheers,” Helen said.

The Big Meow: Chapter Six

The light in the back room shifted and mellowed as lunchtime passed; the writers at the other tables drank their cocktails, packed up their briefcases and bookbags and went away: and still the People and the Silent Man and Helen Walks Softly sat and talked, the Silent Man scribbling on his pad every now and then for the sake of appearances. There had been much more cream after the initial shock wore off, and some more wine, and finally some lunch. The food had been wonderful, but Rhiow, watching the restrained and regretful way in which Urruah was washing his face after the meal, could see that he hadn’t had the inclination to do the kind of justice to his raw liver that he’d originally intended. She felt sorry for him again…but once more, she had to admit that they all had a lot more to think about at the moment than food.