Midnight Louie 14 - Cat in a Midnight Choir Read Online Free PDF Page B

foreigner? And what is this ‘shaded silver’ stuff? You mean the chit is gray.”
    I roll my eyes. I am not about to explain the sublime and subtle mix of black, white, and gray hairs on the aristocratic form of the Divine Yvette.
    “So tell me about your business.”
    “It is a one-dude operation. Private-eye stuff. That is why I am here. I am looking into a case involving some Big Cats.”
    “You know some Big Cats?” She actually sounds impressed. I am impressed.
    “Some.”
    “Then why did you not bring one along for backup?”
    “These big guys do not just meander out on the streets. There are laws.”
    “Well, boy, you are lucky I am part of this colony because your meatballs would have been chili powder in another couple of seconds, and I am getting too old to rumba without activating my rheumatism. So I suggest we go over and ask the boys what you want to know and then you skedaddle.”
    “Yes, Ma.” There was never any point in arguing with her. She was the Sultana of Swat when it came to keeping her litters in line. “Uh,” I add as we amble over to the others. “What is your name besides Ma?”
    “That is it. Ma. Ma Barker.”
    “You are not a dog!”
    “No, but I bite like one. Just remember that.”
    In a moment I am huddling with the Wild Bunch.
    “I am looking for a man,” I begin.
    “Why come to us? We have nothing to do with that species if we can help it.”
    “I cannot argue with your good taste, but this man has a place where he keeps Big Cats. It is a hideout, see. No human knows where it is. I figure you guys” — Snow Off-white bristles and hisses — “and dolls might have an idea where it is. I know you get around and I figure you have your ears to the ground better than anybody.”
    “ Hmm ,” says Tom. “We do not roam as much as we used to now that our numbers are being whisked away and returned all meek and meatball-less. But I wonder if you could be talking about the Dead Place?” He glances at the others.
    Oh, great. Like I need to visit another Dead Place. “What is this joint?” I ask.
    “I have smelled Big Cat there,” Snow Off-white mews. She rolls her yellow eyes. “Very Big Cat.”
    “But nobody human goes there much,” Tiger adds. “That is why we explore sometimes. It is not far from here and there are trees to climb.”
    “It is like a park,” Ma puts in. A lot of these street types do not even know what a park is.
    I nod. “It would be a rich man’s estate, but no one would know.”
    Whiskers tremble sagely all around. “That is it, then. The Dead Place. People do not like Dead Places. They stay away and then we can come out and play. Not even the aliens with the silver ships who abduct us go there.”
    “I have been thinking of moving the colony there,” Tom admits, “but we grow weak and fewer, and many like the free food too much. We have gone soft.”
    “Not very. Trust me,” I reassure them.
    So I get the general location of the Dead Place, which I am happy to learn is in Las Vegas proper, if there is any district in Las Vegas you could call “proper.” I had enough treks into the desert during my last case to leave permanent sand calluses between my toes.
    Then I bid the gang adieu. Ma escorts me to the edge of their territory.
    “Imagine,” she muses with a trace of fondness, but very little. “The Grasshopper hangs with Big Cats.”
    “You could come back with me. I am sure I can get you a cushy position at my pad, the Circle Ritz.”
    For a moment her eyes soften.
    I press on. “Air-conditioning. Sunspots. Security. Down comforters.”
    She shakes her head. “They need me here. We are dying out, of course. That is the plan.”
    I try one last ploy. “Ah, Dad has retired on Lake Mead. Runs the goldfish concession at this eatery they named after him, Three O’Clock Louie’s.”
    “Your father is a restaurateur?”
    “Sort of.”
    She shakes her grizzled head. “I thought he had to follow the sea.”
    “He followed it