The Cat Who Turned on and Off

The Cat Who Turned on and Off Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: The Cat Who Turned on and Off Read Online Free PDF
Author: Lilian Jackson Braun
finial from a rooftop—probably an ornament from an old house in the Zwinger reclamation area. The ball is solid brass. Needs a little polishing. What am I offered?”
    The people seated around Qwilleran were shocked.
    “Makes my blood run cold,” one whispered.
    “I didn’t think they’d have the nerve to put it up.”
    “Who’s bidding? Can you see who’s bidding?”
    “Very bad taste! Very bad!” someone said.
    “Did Andy actually fall on it?”
    “Didn’t you know? He was impaled!”
    “Sold!” snapped the auctioneer. “Sold to C.C. Cobb.”
    “No!” cried Mrs. Cobb.
    At that moment there was a spine-chilling crash. A bronze chandelier let loose from the ceiling and crashed on the floor, narrowly missing Mr. Maus, the attorney.

FOUR
    It had been a splendid Victorian mansion in its day—a stately red brick with white columns framing the entrance, a flight of broad steps, and a railing of ornamental ironwork. Now the painted trim was peeling, and the steps were cracked and crumbling.
    This was the building that housed the Cobbs’ antique shop, The Junkery, and the bay windows on either side of the entrance were filled with colored glass and bric-a-brac.
    After the auction Qwilleran accompanied Mrs. Cobb to the mansion, and she left him in the tacky entrance hall.
    “Have a look at our shop,” she said, “while I go upstairs and see if the apartment is presentable. We’ve been selling out of it for two months, and it’s probably a mess.”
    “It’s been vacant two months?” Qwilleran asked, counting back to October. “Who was your last tenant?”
    Mrs. Cobb looked apologetic. “Andy Glanz lived up there. You don’t mind, do you? Some people are squeamish.”
    She hurried upstairs, and Qwilleran inspected the hallway. Although shabby, it was graciously wide, with carved woodwork and elaborate gaslight fixtures converted for electricity. The rooms opening off the hall were filled with miscellany in various stages of decrepitude. One room was crowded with fragments of old buildings—porch posts, fireplaces, slabs of discolored marble, stained-glass windows, an iron gate and sections of stair railing. Customers who had drifted in after the auction were poking among the debris, appraising with narrowed eyes, exhibiting a lack of enthusiasm. They were veteran junkers.
    Eventually Qwilleran found himself in a room filled with cradles, brass beds, trunks, churns, weather vanes, flatirons, old books, engravings of Abraham Lincoln, and a primitive block and tackle made into a lamp. There was also a mahogany bar with brass rail, evidently salvaged from a turn-of-the-century saloon, and behind it stood a red-shirted man, unshaven and handsome in a brutal way. He watched Qwilleran with a hostile glare.
    The newsman ignored him and picked up a book from one of the tables. It was bound in leather, and the cracking spine was lettered in gold that had worn away with age. He opened the book to find the title page.
    “ Don’t open that book,” came a surly command, “unless you’re buying it.”
    Qwilleran’s moustache bristled. “How do I know whether I want it till I read the title?”
    “To hell with the title!” said the proprietor. “If you like the looks of it, buy it. If you don’t, keep your sweatin’ hands in your pockets. How long do you think those books will last if every jerk that comes in here has to paw the bindings?”
    “How much do you want for it?” Qwilleran demanded.
    “I don’t think I want to sell it. Not to you, anyway.”
    The other customers had stopped browsing and were looking mildly amused at Qwilleran’s discomfiture. He sensed the encouragement in their glances and rose to the occasion.
    “Discrimination! That’s what this is,” he roared. “I should report this and have you put out of business! This place is a rat’s nest anyway. The city should condemn it . . . . Now, how much do you want for this crummy piece of junk?”
    “Four bucks, just to shut
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