fella!" said a loud voice. "Either put your damned cat on a leash or get her out of here!"
Mallory turned and found himself confronting a bald, red-faced man. "What's the problem?" he asked.
"I've got a seal and walrus act," said the man angrily. "And every time I toss one of them a fish as a reward, your cat catches it and eats it. Now they've gone on strike—no fish, no performance."
"All right, keep your shirt on," said Mallory, walking over to where Felina was crouching, waiting to spring through the air when the next fish was thrown to a seal. He grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her away, while she hissed at him and displayed her claws. "You touch me with those and I'll pull 'em out one by one!" he snapped.
"Without anesthetic?" said Felina. "What kind of fiend are you?"
"An angry one," said Mallory. "Now come with me before I really lose my temper."
He began leading her back to Winnifred when he suddenly realized that a hush had fallen across the entire area. The hustle and bustle had stopped, and he could have heard a pin drop at twenty paces. Gradually he became aware that all heads had turned to the north end of the arena, where the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was preparing to practice her bareback routine atop a chestnut centaur.
"Close your mouth, John Justin," said Winnifred. "You never know what might fly into it at a circus."
"Do you see her?" whispered an awestruck Mallory. "She makes Sophia Loren look like a boy! She's like . . . like jelly on springs!"
"Don't be vulgar," said Winnifred.
"I'm not being vulgar, I'm being honest," said Mallory. "I've never seen anything like her. She's enough to make an atheist believe in God."
"I don't think I want to hear any more of this, John Justin. I'd like to continue respecting my partner."
Mallory suddenly shook his head vigorously, as if to clear it. "Don't go disrespecting your partner too soon," he said. "I think he just solved the case."
Winnifred looked confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Look around you," he said. "Every man in the arena is looking at her the same way I was. Hell, if you're a man and alive you can't help but look at her that way."
"I assume you are making your way laboriously to the point?"
"Micro and Macro went to bed with anything that twitched, right?"
"Poor choice of words, but yes," said Winnifred.
"They spread themselves around, so everyone seemed content," continued Mallory. "Or at least, none of their ladyfriends made any waves." He smiled. "But I'll bet you four thousand dollars that she started working here a month ago, and once our boys saw her, there were suddenly a lot of lonely ladies in the circus. Lonely, unhappy—and maybe vengeful."
"That presupposes that they actually were able to . . . to . . ." Winnifred searched for an inoffensive word.
"To score with her?" suggested Mallory. "There's an easy way to find out."
"I agree," said Winnifred. "Let's go ask her."
" I'll ask her," said Mallory. "You watch the cat."
"But—"
"It'll be good for me to practice some self-restraint."
"You're not getting off to a very good start," noted Winnifred.
Mallory never took his eyes off the girl. "Just look at her bouncing up and down on that centaur!"
"If you make a comment about how she could bounce up and down like that on you, I'm dissolving our partnership," said Winnifred distastefully.
"I'd never say something like that to you," said Mallory. Then: "But I can think it, can't I?"
"Just go and ask her what you have to ask."
"Right," said Mallory, starting to walk across the arena. When he came to the ring where the centaur was cantering in a circle, he stopped and stood there, admiring the sight.
After a few moments he became aware of a sudden sharp pain in his shin and realized that Felina had just kicked him.
"Goddammit!" he bellowed. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Winnifred sent me over to make sure you were still alive," answered the cat-girl pleasantly. "I'll go tell
Mallory turned and found himself confronting a bald, red-faced man. "What's the problem?" he asked.
"I've got a seal and walrus act," said the man angrily. "And every time I toss one of them a fish as a reward, your cat catches it and eats it. Now they've gone on strike—no fish, no performance."
"All right, keep your shirt on," said Mallory, walking over to where Felina was crouching, waiting to spring through the air when the next fish was thrown to a seal. He grabbed her by the arm and started pulling her away, while she hissed at him and displayed her claws. "You touch me with those and I'll pull 'em out one by one!" he snapped.
"Without anesthetic?" said Felina. "What kind of fiend are you?"
"An angry one," said Mallory. "Now come with me before I really lose my temper."
He began leading her back to Winnifred when he suddenly realized that a hush had fallen across the entire area. The hustle and bustle had stopped, and he could have heard a pin drop at twenty paces. Gradually he became aware that all heads had turned to the north end of the arena, where the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was preparing to practice her bareback routine atop a chestnut centaur.
"Close your mouth, John Justin," said Winnifred. "You never know what might fly into it at a circus."
"Do you see her?" whispered an awestruck Mallory. "She makes Sophia Loren look like a boy! She's like . . . like jelly on springs!"
"Don't be vulgar," said Winnifred.
"I'm not being vulgar, I'm being honest," said Mallory. "I've never seen anything like her. She's enough to make an atheist believe in God."
"I don't think I want to hear any more of this, John Justin. I'd like to continue respecting my partner."
Mallory suddenly shook his head vigorously, as if to clear it. "Don't go disrespecting your partner too soon," he said. "I think he just solved the case."
Winnifred looked confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Look around you," he said. "Every man in the arena is looking at her the same way I was. Hell, if you're a man and alive you can't help but look at her that way."
"I assume you are making your way laboriously to the point?"
"Micro and Macro went to bed with anything that twitched, right?"
"Poor choice of words, but yes," said Winnifred.
"They spread themselves around, so everyone seemed content," continued Mallory. "Or at least, none of their ladyfriends made any waves." He smiled. "But I'll bet you four thousand dollars that she started working here a month ago, and once our boys saw her, there were suddenly a lot of lonely ladies in the circus. Lonely, unhappy—and maybe vengeful."
"That presupposes that they actually were able to . . . to . . ." Winnifred searched for an inoffensive word.
"To score with her?" suggested Mallory. "There's an easy way to find out."
"I agree," said Winnifred. "Let's go ask her."
" I'll ask her," said Mallory. "You watch the cat."
"But—"
"It'll be good for me to practice some self-restraint."
"You're not getting off to a very good start," noted Winnifred.
Mallory never took his eyes off the girl. "Just look at her bouncing up and down on that centaur!"
"If you make a comment about how she could bounce up and down like that on you, I'm dissolving our partnership," said Winnifred distastefully.
"I'd never say something like that to you," said Mallory. Then: "But I can think it, can't I?"
"Just go and ask her what you have to ask."
"Right," said Mallory, starting to walk across the arena. When he came to the ring where the centaur was cantering in a circle, he stopped and stood there, admiring the sight.
After a few moments he became aware of a sudden sharp pain in his shin and realized that Felina had just kicked him.
"Goddammit!" he bellowed. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Winnifred sent me over to make sure you were still alive," answered the cat-girl pleasantly. "I'll go tell
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