The mystery of the million dollar cat

== THE MYSTERY OF THE MILLION DOLLAR CAT ==
=== By Skumar Iyer ===
Published Originally in Calcutta Times Magazine. Translation published in StoryStar 2010
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A Boring Day
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June and her twin brother Jean were seated near the window, munching chocolates, candies andwafers.
“Only three days are left of a month-long vacation – how quickly the time flies!” said Jean, looking solemnly at the calendar.
“Why, yes – and that reminds me of the essay we have to prepare,” said June sadly.
“We don’t have to write an essay, but we must be mentally prepared for the class assignment,” said Jean. “Most probably, it would be how did you spend your vacation, don’t you think?” asked Jean.
“And very unfortunately we simply didn’t do anything,” said June sadly. “Last holidays, we discovered the pearl inside the great-grandfather’s clock; and before that, we helped the police discover the hidden loot. There’s nothing exciting this time!”
“Well, I suppose, we can’t do something exciting?” asked Jean doubtfully.
“We can paint the walls to hide a message or solve picture puzzles on old parchment sheets, if that’s what you mean,” retorted June.
“I didn’t mean that,” said Jean angrily. “I mean, can’t we visit a fair or the zoo or something?”
“There’s no fair – at least not any that we know of. And the zoo is closed for maintenance, or whatever they call it, after the escape of the monkey,” said June. “Perhaps I could inform the zoo director that a substitute for the primate is available.” 
“Where?” asked Jean in real surprise, unable to gauge his sister’s cheek.
“Do you really mean you’ve a replacement?”
“Yes, but the zoo may not be able to afford its daily food,” said June with a twinkle in her eyes. “Chocolates, pizzas, buns, cakes, mutton, wafers…..”
And suddenly June held up a small mirror in front of her brother, which reflected him chewing a mouthful of candies.
Jean could not decide whether to laugh at the joke or get angry at her mischief, but he finally surrendered and smiled. However, he meant to salvage what he could of his ego, and said: “Well, they might as well take a pair – Mom would say good riddance!”
“Jokes apart, there’s something in what you say,” agreed June. “Before the dreary routine of school begins, we could enjoy ourselves in a way that would also give us matter for an essay.”
Suddenly Jean pounced upon a leaflet that was tossed inside by a man who was distributing them house-to-house. He exclaimed: “Here’s the answer to our prayers, June. A three-day exhibition begins in the town today.”
“I hope it isn’t a dull one where you go round and round, and see some strange lines and colors called the modern art, and while everyone says how nice it is, no one actually understands anything – because they all look the same!”
“No, it’s a display of models and toys – stuffed toys, wooden carvings, fiber playthings, electronic-animals, and so on.” He passed the paper to his sister.
June took the fluttering paper and studied the details. “Yes,” she said approvingly, “it opens at ten and closes at eight. We’ll get plenty of buses to go and return in good time. Let’s ask Mom and Dad.”
The twins sought their parents’ permission to visit the exhibition, which was readily granted. They were good and obedient children, top class in both studies and sports – and willingly did shopping or cleaning or any other jobs they were asked to do. So their parents usually let them have what they wanted, knowing they were mature and sensible. 
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At the Exhibition
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The next day, the twins took an early bus and arrived just as the exhibition was being opened on its second day. There were very few visitors – the number would slowly swell as the day advanced. So they had really a good view of every item.
Suddenly, Jean nudged his sister. “Is it a real cat sitting over there?” he asked. “See the one holding a thin thread suspended from the hook up there?”
June looked in the direction of his finger, and was initially startled to see a real cat, but a closer inspection made her realize that it was just a model.
“That’s a beauty, Jean – a real one!” she exclaimed in genuine appreciation. “Let’s look at the price tag.”
But even as they approached the piece, the man behind the counter called out to them, “That’s already sold out. Don’t touch it!”
“We won’t touch, we just want to get a look at the artwork,” said the twins. 
They went ahead, and found to their annoyance that the man was suspiciously gazing at them, as though he did not believe them.
“What does he mean by staring at us – does he think that we’re thieves?” asked an exasperated Jean.
“Since it’s sold, he has got to guard the precious thing from being accidentally damaged by some careless, over-enthusiastic art-lover or mindless, irresponsible kid,” reasoned June. “You meet all kinds of weird visitors in open exhibitions.”
Then they had another shock. The price mentioned was US $99999.99 – packing extra.
“Is it made of gold and diamonds?” asked Jean. “And who would buy it at such an exorbitant price – except a crazy millionaire?”
“Literally a million dollar question, Jean” said June. “It would be interesting to know who that Midas is.”
“Let’s ask him, he’s sure to have the customer’s name in his records,” said Jean.
“He wouldn’t need to check records – such an expensive customer’s name, address and phone number ought to be on the tip of any shopkeeper’s tongue.”
But the man would not part with the details: the customer had specifically instructed him not to divulge his identity to anyone.
“When was it sold?” asked Jean, quite unable to contain his curiosity. “The show opened only yesterday, if I’m right.”
“It was sold within an hour of the opening. And don’t waste time on quizzing me about what you can’t buy. There’re plenty of items to see, admire and buy, if you really want to buy anything!”
It was quite true that it was simply beyond their means to buy that cat, even if it was still on sale. But there was no reason for the man to go red over a harmless query. 
They went round and viewed other items on display. It seemed that while there were many copies of every other item, there was just one model of such a cat. They turned homeward quite dazed at the exquisite artwork they had seen and even more so by the prohibitive price tag on it – although it could not deter a super-rich man who preferred anonymity.
“It’s getting late – though I feel I could look at that cat for the whole day!” said June.
“If we’d kept that black pearl we found inside the clock last vacation, we could have bought it,” said Jean.
“That belonged to the queen. And that brings to my mind the saying – a cat may look at a queen!” exclaimed June.
“You seem to me to be the queen in Alice in Wonderland – inventing sayings and their morals,” snapped back June.
“Well, like a good boy, let’s buy something less expensive, and turn back to our parents,” said June with assumed haughtiness.
“What? You really mean to buy something from here! Except the cat, nothing is of any interest really!” said a surprised Jean.
“Not here, my nitwit,” teased June. “Some victuals to assuage our appetite before we return to devour a good tea laid by Mom.”
“That makes sense. This appetite of ours is like an ever-active volcano!” agreed Jean. After satisfying the appetite with some rolls and sandwiches, they caught the bus back home. 
In the bus, they met Diana, their classmate. When she learned that they were returning from the exhibition, the talk naturally veered round to that wonderful cat. 
“When did you go?” asked the twins.
“Oh, I went with my mother at the very opening yesterday. In fact, we reached there about five minutes before eight – and had to wait until it opened.”
“And how long did you stay there?” asked the enthusiastic twins.
“Till around noon, and then we had something at the cafeteria, and returned home just before four,” answered the pleasant girl.
“Then you must have seen the man who bought the cat! He must have been a supremely wealthy art-lover or collector,” exclaimed Jean.
Diana looked at him perplexed. “No one had bought it till noon,” she said. “And – what’s more – I don’t think anyone will buy it for a million. It’s a ridiculous price.”
The information was indeed startling – the man at the counter had categorically told them that it had been sold within an hour of opening, which would mean that it was sold before nine the previous day.
But Diana insisted that she had been standing there and looking at the cat during that time, and no one had bought it. Even her mother had casually asked the man at the counter, and he had ruefully observed that he would probably have to take it back unsold at the end of three days. 
It was just inexplicable. It would admit of only one explanation, namely, that one of them was not speaking the truth, and the circumstances pointed to the man at the counter in the exhibition being the liar, who had indeed behaved very strangely with them.
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The Intriguing Cat 
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June brought up the subject during dinner. Her father agreed that the entire affair was intriguing, but did not see anything sinister. He just remarked, “A salesman must be polite and patient, but then all sorts of men are employed, especially for such short-term jobs. They come at half the market wages, you see.”
“But why are you so much interested in the cat?” asked their mother. “We won’t be able to buy it, even if he offers us a huge discount!”
“That’s precisely the point, Mom. Why should a cat be priced so prohibitively? Why should it be on display if it’s already sold? Why should he behave so strangely to an innocent query? And why should a shop-keeper tell a lie about it? Nothing makes sense, unless there’s a guilty secret behind it.”
“The amateur detectives on prowl again,” laughed their father. ”But since there’s been no news of any robbery or theft in papers, don’t fancy you’ll recover any treasure from inside the cat’s tummy!” 
“It may not end up as a treasure-hunt, but it would be definitely interesting to know the answers to all the WHYs that June has raised,” said Jean.
Their parents dismissed the matter as inconsequential, but June was not satisfied. A salesman would naturally sing paeans of his sale-items and dwell with exuberance on them. He would sort-of pride himself on stocking unique and highly select items and – for good measure – being able to offer them at very reasonable prices. But this man was almost discouraging customers from approaching the prize show-piece – and, to cap it all, he distinguishes himself by telling a fib.
The twins asked their father whether he could go to the exhibition and ask the man about the cat. 
“You can’t miss it – not only because it’s unique but also because it’s set apart from other items on display. Just make a cursory visit and a very casual query,” pleaded the twins.
He said he would have to pass that way the next morning, and so he may as well take a look at the cat that had evoked so much interest in everyone.
The next day, at about ten in the morning, June received a call from her father, saying that the cat was – according to the man at the counter – yet unsold. He also informed that he had met the inspector, who had come with his son to take a tour of the exhibition on the last day.
“Murkier and murkier it gets, Jean,” June told her brother. “What do you make of it?”
“Was it the same man whom we saw?” asked Jean. “May be there are two of them, and they have different styles of speaking lies.”
June proceeded to verify it by calling in succession first Diana and then her dad. Finally she rang up the inspector’s son. He took music lessons with June under the same teacher, so he was a good friend of the twins. She asked them about the man’s appearance.
And it confirmed Jean’s suspicion. The man who had told them that the cat was sold was short and stocky. But it was a tall and lanky man who had told Diana’s mother and their father that it was not sold.
“We met the wrong man,” said Jean. “Why not go again and check?”
June approved of the plan, and so they set off once more.
By sheer luck, it the right man on duty this time, and he said that the cat was not sold yet. But he seemed reluctant to talk about it.
“You might have known that no one was likely to buy a cat for a million: why did you agree to put it up for sale in the first place?” asked June. 
The man scowled as he would like to shout at them something rude, but just at the moment a traffic police sergeant entered with his wife and daughter, and the man reluctantly put on a mask of civility.
“My partner just put it here. If it’s not sold, he said he would take it back. But he was sure someone would come, and he’s hopeful the customer might turn up today.”
“Is he the short, stocky man who sometimes sits at the counter?” asked June, taking advantage of the sergeant’s presence. The man at the counter was not likely to be belligerent as long as some law-enforcing authority was nearby.
“Yes,” replied the man curtly and looked away in another direction, clearly hinting that he didn’t like to answer any questions by prying kids.
“The sight of a policeman – even if he be off duty and on a personal visit to the exhibition – seems to induce a sobering effect on his manners. The bully cows down to a respectful man!” chuckled Jean.
“It’s an extremely important observation,” agreed June. “Another thing that I can’t fathom is this – how did the short man know that someone would come and buy the cat today?” 
“He might have phoned him,” suggested Jean.
“It’s possible – but it’s a very remote possibility,” said June. “He must have had full information about the cat in the first place. Secondly, he must be rolling in wealth. Thirdly, he could have asked him to pack and send it “
“Then how do you account for it?” asked Jean. “It is unlikely to contain any gold or diamond, since no news of any such theft has been reported – at least, Dad said so this morning.”
“That’s true – but I can’t help suspecting that everything is not right. It may not contain diamonds or pearls – but it may none-the-less contain something dishonest, such as …..”
“But what can it be? Something stolen and not yet out in the news?” asked Jean.
“You remember we had a special seminar at school conducted by the police last term?” whispered June taking her brother aside, out of anyone’s hearing. “They spoke about two things – and asked us to be very alert against falling a prey to any temptation. One was, narcotic drugs – once addicted, your body, mind and soul is doomed. And another was, counterfeit currency notes.”
“So that’s it!” exclaimed an excited Jean. “If so, it’s our duty to bust this racket – not that we’re sure it is so.”
“Some hanky-panky plan is afoot, I assure you. But we’ve to act fast, for today is the exhibition’s last day!” said June.
“But what can we do? We’re not even certain there’s anything illegal here,” wondered Jean.
June knitted her brows for a few minutes, lost in deep thoughts. At last, she said, “Somehow, we must make the cat fall. We can’t do so openly, lest we be asked to pay its price. We have to do so by stealth.”
June’s brainwork – and a wonderful end 
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“Could we raise a false alarm of fire?” asked Jean. “In the confusion, we might tug at the cat’s rope, pretending it was an accident in our haste to escape.”
“No, that could be dangerous,” disapproved June immediately. “You’d have to do it when there’s a huge crowd. And everyone trying to flee from danger at once might result in stampede, injuries or even death. The police won’t take kindly to such an orchestrated accident – and, notwithstanding our earlier contributions, we may find ourselves behind bars.”
As they stood, thinking how to accomplish the task, June noticed a woman carrying a child. He was trying to get at the dangling thread attached to the cat, but because it was crowded, nobody paid much attention. The woman was herself looking at an item and busy chatting or discussing something with her companion.
“If the child pulls the thread and the cat falls down, be sure to move ahead and pick it up. Before you replace it – or hand it back to the man – examine it as best as you can. I’ll try to do the same, if I get to it first,” whispered June to her brother.
“It’s not likely to happen,” said Jean. “However, the lanky man is less fussy than our first friend. But the thread is just beyond the baby’s reach.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said June, as a bright idea occurred to her. ”And do pray for my success.”
She went forward and deftly dropped her purse between the woman’s feet. She politely asked the woman to step back a little so that she could retrieve the purse. Since June had, with great foresight, jammed the space in front, the woman had no choice but to move a few paces backward. And the child found the rope within his tiny hand’s reach and brought the cat down with a strong jerk, the desperation of not having been able to reach up to it earlier plainly manifested in the strength of his pull at the thread.
All hell broke loose. The man went purple, red and yellow in succession, quite unable to stifle a harrowing cry like an enraged bull attacking someone. June and Jean surged forward amidst the confusion, but it was Jean who reached the spot first. He shot out and grabbed the object. At the same time, June very cunningly managed to act as if her foot had slipped, and dragged the nearest human with her as she collapsed on the top of Jean. She and another boy of their age managed to keep Jean down for quite some time.
Although Jean found it too much to bear the weight of two persons on him, he knew that it was a deliberate ploy by his sister to give him sufficient opportunity to examine the cat. But there was no need to, for the weight of the three persons upon the poor cat had burst its sides open, and a small amount of white powder had leaked out. June quickly abstracted a little of the powder and hid her hand in her pocket.
When they rose, they found the short, stocky man (God knows when he had managed to enter) and the tall, lanky man bathed in beads of perspiration. 
Their legs were shaking, and they just stood rooted to the spot – almost petrified, so to speak. They were two dumb human statues, unable to move or speak.
June took advantage of the situation, decided to take the lead and addressed the gathering:
“It was an extremely costly piece of item that was accidentally dropped. But I find that there has been no damage, except for a few grains of some preservative powder that has oozed out. But it could be easily sewn and restored. Not much harm done.”
As if the two shop-keepers had found their voices back, they gratefully concurred with what June had said and weakly announced that they would shut down the exhibition immediately – although two hours were still left – and try to restore the precious cat. And the visitors, heeding their plea, left one by one.
June instructed her brother to stay on till she returned – or till the all the visitors had left. June gratefully agreed to the request, for he badly needed a few minutes of rest to breathe freely again after having been literally squashed under the full weight of two persons.
It took time, some wanting to buy what they had already selected, some waiting for the change back after having paid the bill, and a few asking for a receipt or a cash memo for their purchase. But the best stallers were the children who were quite reluctant to leave their fancy toys. June estimated that it would be quite some time before the exhibition was really empty.
June managed to steal out and telephone the police. When they arrived, she showed them the white powder spilled out of the cat which she had concealed in her pocket. The police confirmed that it was a dangerous variety of narcotic drug, and proceeded to confiscate the cat and arrest the duo.
The next day, they were called to the police station. The police chief told them the story.
“They both are in this trade –and we’ve been looking out for this drug racket for quite some time. The boss who runs the show was to come and collect it, but he was being followed by the police – and it was difficult for him to receive the drugs secretly. So he made this plan – stuff it inside a cat, and put such a price-tag that no one would buy it. He could then come openly – like an easy millionaire – and buy the cat, posing as an art-collector and auctioneer. Thus he could safely carry the drug and pass it in for sale.” 
“But then why say the item is sold to some and the item is not sold to others? It would have been wiser to say the same tale to everyone,” said Jean.
June said, “Oh, I can understand that part. It’s quite likely that in the tension of the police being hot on their heels, they hadn’t prepared for such minor things. They had only meticulously rehearsed how to deal with the special customer, when he arrived – especially if he was followed by suspected policemen in plain clothes. When it came to a simple thing like whether the cat had already been sold or not, they said what they thought best at the time, depending on the situation.”
“That brought their downfall,” said a delighted police-chief.
“Fate was against them, “said June. “But for our chance meet with Diana in the bus, we’d never have suspected anything in the first place!”
“I didn’t quite get this clear,” said Jean.” You knew that it was likely to be drug, yet you told the gathering that it was some preservative powder. Were you afraid that the crowd would attack them, if they learned that it was narcotic?”
“No, Jean. I saw their frightened faces. They had realized that their game was up. I didn’t want them to flee before the police arrived. So I just gave them false hopes, and they held on to it like a drowning man clutching at a straw. I didn’t quite fathom the mystery of the thread, unless it was a superstition or charm, meant to ward off the evil.”
“That was precisely what it was – for our drug-barons were very orthodox,” said the police. “But the charm of the magic thread couldn’t keep the evil off.”
“But it did. It did ward off the evil effects of the drug which so many innocents would have suffered if they had marketed it!” said June, and the police had to agree that she was right.
“What baffles me is,” said the police-chief, “how did you manage to burst the side-seam of the cat. It was exceptionally strong!”
“Oh, other thieves helped me,” said June in a whisper.
“What?” cried out an astonished police-chief.
“You can hardly arrest them,” replied June with a smile. “Thieves who steal pies and tarts from their own home – I don’t think there’s any law that can touch them. But they make their bodies bulky and heavy, especially during vacations, and three such kids in a heap on the top of a poor cat – the result is inevitably a foregone conclusion.”
“Yes, such thieves are useful,” he agreed. “Although I can’t encourage obesity in anyone, I’ll make an exception just for once. Here’s a bottle of the best home-made jam, and a packet of Swiss black currant cake. I received them this morning from my super-chef aunt!” 
“And,” he added with a mischievous twinkle, “it was not hidden in a cat’s entrails!”
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