Eyes of the Innocent

By G.R.R. Restivo

Caesar, a gifted black cat, witnesses a murder and then after his masters and mother are murdered that same night, seeks revenge on the killer. Mark Gallo, a police detective, tries to unravel the mystery of the killings, somehow linked to Warner Hollander, the head of a worldwide company and drug smuggling operation. Throughout, we see the vast differences between man and animal, dealing with their own demons. Caesars trek leads to Europe, where Gallo is almost killed and Caesar saves him on the North Atlantic with a surprising climax on Long Island.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 19, 2002
• ISBN: 9781462836505

G.R.R. Restivo

G.R.R. Restivo has again written another mystery/adventure novel of the detective-architect Nick Cook and his girlfriend. Mr. Restivo has written all his novels part time and continues to live on Long Island.

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Copyright © 1991, 2002 by G.R.R. Restivo.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

FOREWORD

PROLOGUE

GENESIS

EXODUS

APOLCALYPSE

EPILOGUE

To

Loretta &

my cats

Boots Tiger

Caesar

Arthur

Bogey

Frisky Beep Beep and of course,

Sam the dog

FOREWORD

It is with great joy for me this novel is finally available. I have worked on this labor of love for eight years and an additional two years of research and rehashing. In 1978, while driving to the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and since it took some hours, I started to think about all the years I spent with cats and how different they are from other animals. It is evident that they stand out above other animals. This is not to criticize dogs because they are truly man’s best friend. Cats are aloof and individualistic and are not going to fetch a ball and throughout history, this is what made them hated or misunderstood. It is not my intention to try to convert anyone here but rather to mystify and surprise as cats often do.

My first cat was Boots who was a Maine Coon cat who was scared of me since I was a constant pain to her. When I was older I learned to appreciate the feline way and their many peculiar customs. My attraction to cats has always been there but it wasn’t until Caesar that I started to develop a novel idea in my head, which I wanted to be totally fresh from any novel before. Many of the characters are similar to people I knew or know presently and places in the book are actual, having visited most of the areas. This was important to me, because I wanted to give the reader realism on the human side while the animal world was up to imagination and interpretation. I researched legends that involved cats and their miraculous feats. Finally, I wanted to contrast the dark side of human life opposite to the animals, who are pure and innocent to it all. The constant flow of action and fantasy may be different for some, but once the reader accepts certain premises than a whole new concept awaits you.

There are many great authors who influenced me but three stand out the most. The first is J.R.R. Toilken with his marvelous trips into Hobbit land and the ring. I could never be as deep into legends and lore as he was, but I tried.

Second was Ian Fleming and the James Bond phenomenon. I read these novels when I was a kid in Brooklyn. His writing of espionage and cool and sinister characters was inspiring.

Third, and the one with the most influence, was a little known author who wrote comic books. Now don’t laugh these adventures I discovered when I was four years old until even now still excite me.

Carl Barks was a writer for Walt Disney comics and stories and wrote and drew Donald Duck. His greatest achievement was Uncle Scrooge. I would wait every month in great anticipation for the next story. He took you to the outer reaches of the earth and you would learn about legends, lost cities and far away lands. If you are a connoisseur of Barks, the reader will recognize the similarities. I salute him, because he generated the seeds in my mind to dream and imagine.

There are many people to thank who pushed me to finish this novel and many who thought it was a pipe dream. I want to thank everyone who encouraged me and read the draft over the years. They gave me the hope that it wasn’t just me who thought it was good.

To my wife, Loretta, or Lori as I call her, since it was her support and push that got me to finish this book. While she attended college and then grad school at night I wrote the book waiting all those hours in my car and then in the college libraries.

Let your imagination go and put yourself in a world that all things are possible and I hope you will enjoy the story as much as I did writing it.

Thank you,

G.R.R.Restivo

PROLOGUE

Black, everything around him black, yet he felt life within him and near him. Warmth and heat of a mother’s tongue and nourishment of a mother’s teat. Cold air and voices of strange sounds came from the other direction. His mother told him it was humans who made such sounds, but be not afraid they are our Mistress and Master. He could not see them but he felt their cold. His mother was warm. Time past and still he was not permitted to see anything. His mother licked him and fed him constantly. Nearby he could sense another one such as himself, and they both fought for their mother’s nourishment. The human’s voices grew louder to him and scared him.

Once when he awoke, he noticed strange things. He could see clearly and his mother was his first sight. She was beautiful and she licked him and his sister. He looked at himself. He was black covered with fur and so was his sister but her fur was brown like his mothers.

As time passed, his mother taught them everything about life and humans. Once a female human came and picked them up and in a loud tone said something he didn’t understand. His mother said it was their names now.

They named you Caesar and your sister Sheba.

So they played and called each other by name constantly. Then mother taught them about the common tongue used by all mammals and birds. She taught them about the greatest of all felines, Simmark, and his adventures. They listened intently and obeyed her at each step. The human tongue on the other hand was more complex to understand.

The two humans would talk loud to each other in war like tones and then purr to each other moments later. It was confusing to caesar. caesar while walking with his mother, finally out of the den, asked about her mate as the human female had.

Cleo, his mother replied, He is a great black with golden eyes who is feared everywhere. You shall be like him.

Yes, but where is he. Caesar asked again.

He is near and everywhere. You shall meet him someday. Right now Mistress Cathy wants to feed us. Come along children.

sheba and Caesar followed and listened to their mother because she was their life. In the following weeks they grew and were set to the human’s schedule and scents. Life was easy for Caesar with no worries and problems. He was happy and carefree.

His mother commented on his attitude several times,

Caesar, my son, you are such a happy cat. I hope you will remain so.

Why not, mother, I have you and Mistress Cathy and Master Charlie. There is nothing else.

I hope you are right, yet, I feel something else is meant for you, a greater destiny. It is a feeling of power or greatness. I can’t explain. Your eyes tell of things to come which I can’t foretell. She licked his head. Oh ma, Its only the bad cat food, that you’re feeling, ha, ha, ha. He winked at his beautiful mother.

They laughed and played, but Cleo had a strange feeling about the future. She could feel it in her whiskers and she felt it in her heart.

GENESIS

Johnny Amisi sat on the bed thinking about his last job. Next time he would charge more. These risks he took were not worth it. One big job to retire, one big hit, that’s all he needed.

As he pushed the covers away, he glanced at his stomach, still as trim as when he was twenty-five years old. He admired his legs and arms, as he stared in the ceiling mirror, contracting his biceps. Amisi worked out every day, lifting weights, doing sit-ups, pushups, so that his over forty body wouldn’t show it. The broads still found him handsome. His face only showed a hint of his years. This last snatch was a push over for bullshit, but they all want to get laid in the end anyway.

The apartment was kept by the family for just this operation, if you should meet a cunt who is available, the apartment was perfect. Johnny used it sparingly and his taste ran high. The others were always here using it for their orgies or meetings. There was always a prearranged signal known by everyone that the apartment was occupied that evening. A letter was left in the mailbox if it wasn’t there then someone was most likely getting laid.

Water woke him up. God! he had slept after he gave that bitch money for a taxi. Jesus, it was 6:00 and dark outside. He better call Rattel or big daddy would get mad. He hated Rattel, the lanky bastard, but he needed him. Frank Rattel was the best arms man in the city. Rattel knew every gun ever made and its inner workings. He would work on guns for hours, cleaning, polishing, reloading his own bullets and handling the pistols all night. He was never without one or two. His favorite was a Browning Hi-Power with a 13-shot clip. Frank would stroke this gun all night just like it was a tit, but Rattel was a fucking ratter, he had told certain things about others in the family and they were never seen or heard of again.

Amisi had no proof that Rattel had blabbed in the past, but he was still careful. His hunched over walk earned him the nickname of the rat in the family circle and even among the police eschelon. Johnny and the rat were teamed together often because Johnny had always worked well with him. No one else trusted him. Amisi was told to contact Rattel today to meet at this apartment for a future job. Rattel’s contact was a bowery social club on Prince street. The rat was always showing off his gun knowledge to these dumb assholes.

Johnny held the receiver and dialed the slimy one’s number. Some asshole answered finally.

Hello, Prince street social club. came a dull voice.

Yeah is the rat there, tell him its his brother, snarled Amisi.

Hold the wire, I’ll get him.

The fuck is probably bullshitting these old guys again. on came that grisly slimy voice Johnny hated so.

Hello, brother what’s up.?

"Get your ass home, daddy’s got a something he wants to give you.

Okay, give me about fifteen minutes, mother’s waiting at the deli, said Rattel.

Amisi hung up. So the cops know about his social club, the asshole. He’s much to public for my good, thought Amisi. Johnny closed his eyes and fell fast asleep.

* * *

Warner Hollander hated his wife. In fact he had day dreamed of killing her many times. She had changed so much in the thirty years he was married to her. Dottie was such a beautiful woman in 1970. She was voted Miss New York in 1969 and had done some modeling for high class fashion shows, where she met Warner.

Warner was then learning the ropes from his cheapskate father, King Hollander, who formed the Elegant Soap Company. King at the time told his son to fuck her and forget her but Warner was in love, so he thought. They were married in 1972. Dottie never knew that the Elegant Soap Company was a front for a very powerful Mafia connection. Warner knew since he was about 19 years old. King sat him down one day and explained the whole business. How drugs were smuggled in from the Middle East under the labels of soaps. Of course, they also shipped soap from these lands also to keep an appearance of legality. Warner was in, whether he liked it or not.

The soap company grew to perfumes, women’s makeup, shampoos, etc., until it was the largest women’s fashion makeup retailer in the country. Under Warner it had grown to movie and TV production. He controlled various actors, actresses and TV and newspaper reporters.

His empire was quite big, but he never forgot his ties. The family always came first. If a big shipment was due Warner had to make sure it arrived safe and was delivered to the right men. Captain Landis was responsible for all the important cargo shipments, and was paid a terrific salary. Stack in Queens would handle all of it so that Hollander never was directly connected at that time with the pick-up men. That way, no one but the headman of the family with some exceptions knew he had any part in it.

His wife was ignorant to this day. He had tired of her and she knew it. He was caught a few times with girls mostly young starlets, looking for work, but he didn’t give a fuck. She wasn’t about to give up her status in the social world she traveled in. So they came to a mutual agreement, he could fuck around and she would use all her power and his money for what she wanted in life.

She had, some days ago, mentioned she met with one of his employees at the soap factory who just had kittens born to their bitch cat and Dottie wanted one for the house. Warner hated cats. A black cat had caused him to fall out of a tree once when he was six years old. He fell on his back, which still gives him an enduring pain to this day. The cat had startled him in the tree and he had slipped. King had told him to never climb trees but he was a curious kid.

King, needless to say, killed every cat in the neighborhood of Old Westbury in retaliation. Cats just made his stomach turn since then, and every book he read on witchcraft confirmed it.

Dottie was determined to have one anyway, even though, she knew of his fear. This was one thing that she would not have, if he could help it.

Warner was sitting home when Dottie came in. She was her usual bitchy self, wearing one of her loose fitting dresses, which he learned to hate.

Dan Weekes is bringing over the kitten tonight, his wife said as she took off her mink.

Dan works for you in the packaging department and had two kittens born to his cat eight weeks ago, by the way, where is Henry.

Keyes, the pussy, took the night off, and I don’t want any damn stinking cat in this house, spitted Warner, not paying heed to her words, with just a mention of a cat.

I love cats and if I want one I’m going to have one, said Dottie, trying to soothe him.

You got fucking fish in the living room with a god-damn 50-gallon tank, why do you need a cat?

Dottie had these arguments before and always won, but this time she noticed a harsh, cruel tone in her husband’s voice. He had been drinking heavily. Dottie noticed an empty fifth of Chivas Regal nearby. Dottie pressed on.

Warner, I’m home much of the day, and I need companionship from someone or something, heavens knows, you don’t give me what I want. You’re always out with some damn girl, or even in this house you parade them in their bikinis and robes, to try to make me go insane; but I let you do these things because I could never go back to being Miss Nobody again. Let me have this one little thing Warner, and I won’t bother you again.

Warner hated her more, the bitch; he could never live with this pig now. She hampered him in his pleasures, his life, everything. She has to go.

Dottie, I’ve had it with you get your clothes and jewelry and get out. My lawyer will make a good settlement for you.

She had sacrificed long enough. She would expose him. She knew about his so-called soap company.

You do that, and I will tell every newspaper about how you smuggle in heroin in this country, and how you are an arm of the Cimbari family.

Warner felt his body tremble and muscles tense, he was enraged; she knew after all, the fucking bitch.

How did you find out? shouted Warner losing his temper.

How else, Dottie said, I slept with one of your goddamn fucking lackeys.

This was the last straw for Hollander, he had endured enough.

She had brought him to the breaking point. Dottie saw a change come over him. His face was maniacal, and she realized she had made a mistake. She felt she must get away, but some thing was holding her feet to the floor. Warner came toward her quickly; in an instant his hands enveloped themselves around her throat. Dottie was a strong woman and fought him off.

Warner was now lost in one desire to get rid of her. He grabbed and squeezed for all he was worth. They traveled across the room. Warner trying to get a grasp and Dottie fighting him off successfully. Furniture fell and lamps crashed to the floor. They pushed and tugged at each other to the other side of the room.

The fish tank was nearby, threatening to be knocked over by the struggle. Warner couldn’t keep his hands around her throat long enough to do any harm, since she was kicking and punching. An idea sprang in Warner’s brain. Warner took her by her blonde hair, and submerged her head in the fish tank. As he did so, a smile crossed his lips. Just hold her down for a couple of minutes and it would be over. A quick divorce.

Dottie couldn’t believe her husband really wanted to kill her. After the initial shock she started to kick, scratch and punch, but her life’s breadth was going. She tried to hold her breadth, but it was useless. The last thing Dottie remembered was an angelfish swimming in front of her, then blackness.

Warner had her down for several minutes to make sure of the deed. He let her up, and she fell to the floor dead. His senses returned slowly to him, and of what he had done.

* * *

Dan Weekes came home to his loving wife with roses. She had told him the day before, that she was finally pregnant after months of trying. He loved his wife very much because that’s all he really had. He worked as a packager on an assembly line that made for a tedious boring day. She lit up his day when he came home, but Dan had none of the pleasures of life that others had. He lived in an apartment in Glendale, Queens for $1,000.00 a month, which he could barely afford. Now with the kid coming, he must think of a second job. He even drove an old bomb, which kept dying on him. His father had given him his 1959 Chevrolet Impala, which still moved, but had holes in the floor. One strong step and your feet were on the pavement. He never really regretted it, because everything he did he enjoyed to the utmost.

Cathy Weekes loved her husband equally. She knew he couldn’t give her what she wanted, but maybe with a little luck, they would attain some riches, like maybe Dorothy Hollander. Boy was she rich. She could buy out Bloomingdale’s with no trouble. To think we met at Bloomies’ in Manhasset buying, of all things, rugs. Cathy had gone there for a kitchen rug when Mrs. Hollander bumped into her and Cathy instantly recognized her. Cathy introduced herself and a strange bond of friendship grew between the older and the younger woman, maybe Dottie Hollander saw herself in Cathy 30 years earlier. They met weekly in Manhasset at a coffee shop and the rich woman found a true honest woman who didn’t care how much she was worth.

She was her friend because Cathy honestly liked her, not because Dottie could help her financially and socially. Cathy even bought her lunch a couple of times. They exchanged ideas, love, sorrows, whatever they wanted, just like two sisters. As the months went on, Dottie looked forward to these meetings. Cathy had told her about her cat, Cleo, who was pregnant. She had let Cleo out one night and a big alley tom hung around for weeks. Dottie wanted a kitten even though Warner hated cats. Cathy promised that she would get Dan to bring one over, as soon as the kittens could leave the mother.

One afternoon at their lunches, Dottie was feeling headstrong and fed up with Warner. You know Captain Landis who is in charge of all the shipping into the country, we’ll, he’s connected.

Cathy, being a naive country girl from Connecticut, didn’t catch on immediately. You know, bent nose people, they sell drugs, prostitution, and gambling.

Cathy still had a quizzical look. Mafia, Cosa Nostra and the like. Dottie exclaimed impatiently.

A big Oh, formed on Cathy’s lips.

You’ve got to be kidding, I met him at the Christmas party, he’s married and has five kids. Come on, don’t try to pull my leg.

Dottie decided to tell all. Listen, the soap company is a front for the syndicate. Those big cargo ships that bring in those expensive aromas and imports from the Middle East are hoarding heroin. They pay off a select group of customs officials and they are home free. Each shipment has about 30 million street value in heroin easy, and, I’m just guessing.

Cathy was still sitting with her mouth open. Captain Landis is using his job as a front, my God, does your husband know? You should tell the police.

Dottie had no one else to tell and she trusted this girl, and, why not, no one would believe this story anyway. Warner not only knows, but he runs the operation from the background.

Cathy’s mouth finally closed. Mr. Warner Hollander, my husband’s boss and one of the richest men in the world, is mafia controlled. She couldn’t believe her ears. Dottie never lied to her before, and she sure wouldn’t start with this information. Why tell me? Cathy wondered, I guess she was lonely, really has been distressed of late. So, she probably is convinced she could confide in me. God, if only Dan’s friend knew. He could make captain on the force. She would never tell Dan. It would floor him.

Dottie continued talking, Warner didn’t start it either, King Hollander was the bastard. He started with the Cimbari family in the 40’s. They loaned him money and he has been indebted ever since. vito Cimbari saw an easy way to smuggle drugs in and, vito was a smart man, he saw drugs to be the future money of the world. The soap company would be an easy front for those new aromas from the Middle East. Warner took over for his old man in 1971 after his death. The legacy continued when Vito Cambari died, his son, Luigi replaced him, they became millionaires. They must have congressmen, senators, mayors, anybody you know in their pocket. I’ve known for years now. Warner thinks I’m a stupid idiot, but I’ve got my ace in the hole. He would never hurt me. He still loves me deep down. Anyway now you know, and if you love your life and your husbands’, don’t tell anybody. This will be our little secret.

Cathy’s stomach was upset the whole day into the night. Dan thought his wife was sick that night. It was an upsetting conversation and even now with the baby coming along she must be extra careful. Dan was kissing her, and she was returning to the real world. Honey, guess what, they want me to run the package unit. A field boss. Promotion, more money, how about that? Are you sure you had nothing to do with it, since you see that woman every so often.

Cathy was happy for Dan. Don’t be ridiculous, I never talk business with her. You got that on your own.

I know, but four months after you meet Hollander’s wife, I get a promotion, well, who’s complaining.

Cathy loved him dearly and their baby was their love bond. That reminded her, Dan, you have to bring over a kitten to the Hollander house. I spoke to her today; she still wants the black one. She wants to scare her husband to death, since he’s so superstitious. He reads so many of the witchcraft and astrology books.

I’ll go tonight with Caesar, Dan said, as he lay down next to Cleo.

Why do you call him Caesar?

Because he has a white small crown on top of his head and he is the biggest one, I even have a collar tag for him and his sister, but it has our address on it. I’ll put it on them anyway.

Dan couldn’t find a box to put Caesar into so he just grabbed him as, Caesar looked back at his mother. Mom, where am I going? She couldn’t answer. Her eyes were sad. She knew this would happen to her kittens.

Dan and Cathy walked outside, and Dan put Caesar on the front seat. Cathy kissed him goodbye with a tear in her eye.

As they drove east on the Long Island Expressway, Caesar kept moving and finally hid under the front seat. Dan hoped he wouldn’t piss under the seat because of nervousness. Poor kitten, all he ever knew was his mother, and I took him away from her; but Caesar should know where he’s going.

You will be the richest cat in Long Island, or maybe, the world. Dan stated to the front seat.

At that remark, Caesar popped his head from underneath the seat and gazed at Dan. As if to say, no kidding. Dan was amazed at this one. He almost thought this cat could understand English. Ever since he was born, Caesar always gazed into people’s eyes as they talked to him. There was something eerie about this cat. No wonder people in the Middle Ages were afraid of cats. Caesar then climbed into the tattered front seat and sat down and looked at Dan. He remained there the whole ride.

It was dark now and misty on the Long Island Expressway. Dan had never been to the Hollander estate, but had directions from Cathy. She had them written down probably from Mrs. Hollander. Maybe Hollander will appreciate this, and give me a fantastic job higher up. Pipe dreams more likely.

Hollander’s house had about 25 acres of land around it on the outskirts of Lloyd’s Neck, on the north shore of Long Island. The house was situated on a slight hill with a running stream and a wooden bridge spanning the stream in front. An iron gate with two brick pillars welcomed you about a 1/4 mile ride from the front door. Dan was nervous meeting the Supreme Being, and bringing a cat no less, but Caesar was calm as ever.

As soon as he got over the car motion the cat settled down. Slowly, Dan followed the private road. The Chevy’s tires groaned over the wood bridge and the mist eerily hung around the private road. He could see the house windows. only three lights were on at the first floor. There was something weird and ghostly about this house.

Dan pulled the Chevy to a stop and the brakes squealed their disapproval. They probably heard me, he thought. As Dan reached for Caesar the cat made a growl. Don’t worry Caesar, you’ll be on easy street and pleasure avenue. Dan whispered as he climbed the front steps with Caesar in his arms.

The front door was bigger than his toilet at home. Just before he was going to press the elaborate door chimes, he heard a scream and a groan. Dan easily sneaked behind a hedge in front of what he thought was a living room window. The cat was still meowing, and growling his disapproval at all this, as he heard more noise inside. As Dan poked his head above the windowsill, his heart went into his throat. The drapes were partly open. Warner Hollander, dressed in a robe, fatter than he had ever seen him, was forcing his wife’s head into a large fish tank. Hollander was smiling. His wife was struggling, tearing at her husband’s robe, but to no avail. Bubbles were appearing at the tank surface. She was gone.

Dan’s first reaction was to move to the car, but his feet were in mud. The suction noise would be heard. Where is the fucking butler or maid he thought, My God, I’ve just seen one of the richest men in the world kill his wife. Over what? Dan’s movements were slow, but purposeful toward the car. He knew if he started the car here it would be heard. If he only had time he could push it past the wooden bridge and then start it up. It was almost downgrade to the stream. He threw Caesar in the car, and put the car in neutral. His adrenalin pumped through his body as he pushed the Chevy. It began to move. Steering and pushing, he was doing it to his surprise as he glanced back at the house. The light was still on, but presented an eerie glow in the mist. Almost to the bridge, Caesar kept looking at Master Dan and the house with his paws on the head rests. The cat saw it also, too bad he can’t talk. Dan’s mind raced. He would have to go to the cops or, should he? He reached the bridge and jumped into the car. The Chevy was stubborn at starting, like an old mule. It finally started and Dan drove slowly to the iron gate. Hollander could never see the car now, Dan thought. The Chevy creaked past the columns onto the road and off the property.

Dan breathed a sigh of relief and thought about his next step, Caesar’s eyes were still fixed on the rear window.

Hollander wasn’t a man who easily panicked. His wife lay on the water soaked rug, dead. What could he do? He must think quickly. Suddenly, he grabbed at the corpse, and started to drag it toward the stairs. He noticed the time, it was 8:45. He thought he heard a sound outside, but dismissed it as his imagination. The body was heavy and dragging it up the stairs was hard work. When he was half-way up the stairs he heard what sounded like a car starting. Hollander ran to the front window, pushed aside the drapes, and in the fog he saw a car, very dimly. Did someone see him kill her? Who ever it was he could not take a chance. They must die. They must not get away.

His mind sped through the options. He ran to his closet and grabbed for his binoculars. It would be difficult to see, but he must try. As the car reached the iron gate he couldn’t make out the license plate, but something about the car he recognized-Teardrop taillights. Only one car in existence has such lights. The car disappeared. Who has a 59-Chevy that I know? There was one thing he must do first, and that’s take care of the body. He dragged it upstairs to the bathroom. Turned on the tap at the tub, and filled it to the brim. He stripped his wife’s body and placed her into the water, and submerged her head. Dottie did have some heart trouble, so he would claim she took a bath, and her heart failed as her head went under, drowning herself.

It was perfect. He ran into his bedroom and snatched his wife’s hairdryer. Raced downstairs and dried off the wet rug. Rearranged the furniture, fish tank, and dried the walls. There, as if nothing happened.

He noted the time. It was 9:05. He must call Juliet, that fucking maid that his wife hired. She was probably asleep in the maid’s quarters, the fat bitch. Hollander had to put himself into the grieving husbands’ part for the maid and the police, but first, he must make a quick phone call. He knew many powerful people, and he must now get that gear rolling.

He sped upstairs, and threw his wife’s clothes in the hamper and raced to the bedroom phone. She laid there, in the water, like a surfaced whale, the pig. He dialed the A-One Plumbers number. Hello, this is Warner, I need a plumber to come call on me. The sink’s broke and I need someone to do the job, fast.

Hollander spitted it out fast. The other voice understood.

We’ll take care of it, we know your address.

The phone went dead.

Good, now to call the fat bitch. Hello, Juliet, get over here quick, my wife is, is. dead, and hung up.

Hollander hoped his voice was convincing.

Caesar was beside himself. He had just seen a human being destroy another one. He could smell death in that house. The man seemed to enjoy it. Master Dan was scared to of death. Maybe he thought the crazy one was going to come after him. Caesar couldn’t figure out why Master Dan bought him to see this, and what was this contraption on wheels that moved faster than a running lion. It made noises, smelled bad and swayed from side to side. After awhile, he got used to it and sat on the sofa inside. His mother had mentioned these ugly smelly things as cars. She said always watch for them crossing a man’s street, but, why did this big man kill the female. She wasn’t interested in the succulent fish swimming in the water. Master Dan couldn’t get out of there fast enough, almost as if he was afraid of being seen.

Maybe this big man is evil and humans have to come to this house as a test for their courage. The big man is the devil, mother mentioned him in her tales. Two moons old, and I’ve seen the devil, wait till mother hears.

Master Dan pushed the car quickly, but Caesar wondered why he didn’t just turn that metal strip and sit down like he did before. His courage had to be tested to the fullest. Caesar hoped his courage would be as strong, when his was put to the test as he grew up. But why kill a woman being, something Caesar will never forget. Master Dan finally jumped in, and the car moved after the same noise occurred, boy, Caesar thought, what strange animals these human beings are!

Dan Weekes was scared stiff. Should he tell Cathy? No, she would go to the police. I’ll never have to work again; Hollander would take care of me. He didn’t see me so I’ll contact him anonymously. I won’t be greedy, just a million bucks. He’s so rich he won’t miss it. Cathy and I and the kid would live like kings out west. Move to Arizona or Nevada and change my name. Dan started to laugh, Ha, Ha. We’ve got it made Caesar, never have to struggle again.

Caesar glanced at him again.

I’ll just tell Cathy, she changed her mind about the cat, as he pulled into his block in Glendale, Queens. He grabbed the cat and walked up his steps to his apartment, smiling. Cathy, I’m home, Mrs. Hollander changed her mind about the cat, don’t know why really, just said forget it.

Dan yelled out as he placed Caesar back with his mother and sister. Dottie changed her mind?

What did she say? Cathy said in shock.

I went there, she said her husband didn’t want a cat and she had changed her mind too.

Cathy always knew when Dan was lying. His eyes never looked at hers.

Dan, why are you lying, is it because you like Caesar, and don’t want to give him up. Dan thought, he would never fool her. No, I guess I can’t fool you. He grabbed at her and embraced her. I saw something tonight that is unbelievable.

He accounted to her the whole story and his reasons for lying. Cathy was crying. She knew Dottie only four months, but she grew close to the woman. How could Hollander do it? The bastard, he must pay for it.

Dan, we can’t call the police, Cathy said, as she wiped the tears away, because Hollander is Mafia.

Dan looked at his wife strangely. Cathy never used that word before.

Hollander’s company is a front for a big mafia family. They smuggle heroin into this country using their importing fleet. He would kill us if he knew we knew.

"But he doesn’t know Cath, no way, he never saw me or the car.

Sweat started to build up on Dan’s forehead.

Are you sure, Dan, because it could mean our lives.?

Dan looked at his wife and at Caesar, who was giving him that gaze again and said, Let’s get the fuck out of here, start packing.

Lieutenant Gross was amazed to be called on a case to Warner Hollander’s estate. He knew of Hollander and his payments to the police. His name will be in the papers tomorrow for sure. Hollander was sitting in the huge living room, sobbing over his lost wife. Gross had to ask him some routine questions and the fat maid too. He rather ask the maid first since she’s the one who called the police. Miss Jensen, may I ask you some questions for the record. Gross said aside.

Sure, I got plenty for you to ask, she stated in her broken accented English.

Miss Jensen, tell me what happened, the Lieutenant stated dryly.

"Mr. Holland, he called me on the phone while I was watching Columbo, and said his wife was dead. So I ran like deer over here, and found Mrs. in tub with head under water, Mr. Holland, he was downstairs in study and told me he found her in tub when she didn’t answer him from outside door. That is when I call you.

But, something is strange; I saw once on Columbo show that you should always watch everything. Mrs. never throw clothes into hamper while taking bath before, and I find blouse wet in hamper also, how you explain?"

Lieutenant Gross was tired. His wife was a pain in the ass and his eyes were bulging and he didn’t want to listen to this raving immigrant, with her fucking TV show logic.

Thank you Mrs. Jensen for your help.

You can answer me, what your conclusion, she pressed.

I will investigate it thoroughly, thank you.

He left her mumbling something about Peter Falk and entered the living room. What an ornate place the rich bastard had. Huge chandeliers, deep wood engraved walls, two fireplaces, marble everywhere, expensive paintings and sculptures. In the middle sat this huge man. Gross guessed he was about 6’4, maybe more. Sergeant Grease ball was watching him. The lieutenant hated that fucking Italian, but he had to work with him. Excuse me, Mr. Hollander, I know this isn’t the time, but can I ask you some questions. You understand, just for the record."

I understand Lieutenant, don’t be afraid. Hollander nodded as he rubbed a rabbit’s foot.

‘Thank you, Mr. Hollander," the lieutenant said politely.

When did you discover your wife’s body.?

About 9:15 Lieutenant.

‘Go on, Mr. Hollander, tell me all the events leading up to your discovery."

Hollander raised his head from his hands still dangling the lucky piece, and continued, Well, we came home about 8:00 from her social club, we talked awhile, and she decided to take a nice hot bath, as she put it.

Hollander started sobbing at this moment. The lieutenant patted him on the back. Go on Mr. Hollander.

Well, she went upstairs and said she would be down in a while after she relaxed in the tub.

What time was this, sir? Sergeant Gallo asked.

About a quarter to 9, Sergeant. Hollander said dryly.

‘Why did you go up at 9:15 then, if she said she would be down in a while," the Sergeant asked.

Hollander was getting impatient with this idiot.

She usually sings in the tub, she wasn’t doing so. I knocked, but she never answered, so I opened the door and found her with …

Hollander broke down again. The Sergeant wasn’t satisfied. Mr. Hollander, what did you, and Mrs. Hollander talk about before she went upstairs.

Hollander wanted them to go.

Small things, you know women, social club functions, jewelry she saw she wanted, a friend bringing over a …

As Hollander stated these words, his face changed.

Is there something wrong, Mr. Hollander, the Sergeant asked concerned?

No, nothing, just remembering Dottie, oh God, Dottie, come back.

Hollander was crying now.

"Sergeant, let’s leave Mr. Hollander alone now, he’s had enough grief for one night. Thank you, Mr. Hollander, we will contact you.

Oh, one more thing, don’t you have a butler named Henry Keyes, the Sergeant asked.

Yes, it was his night off, the fatman answered crying.

Okay, we’ll get in contact with him, thank you again, sir.

As the lieutenant and the sergeant walked out, Gallo noticed that a hair dryer was on the stairs. Boy, Mrs. Hollander was just as sloppy as my wife. Leaves things in the middle of the road too: yet, something about it bothered him.

As the police finally left the estate; two blocks away, two figures sat in a black car watching the house. One was hunched over, and the other straight as an arrow.

Rattel was getting nervous playing with his gun. It’s about time the fucks left.

Amisi, calm as a cucumber waited 10 minutes before driving in with the lights out.

Hollander welcomed them in as old friends. They played the part of grieving friends of the family. Sorry to hear of this, Warn, Amisi said.

But we couldn’t stay away.

Hollander didn’t like these animals, but he needed them. Look up a friend of mine, Dan Weekes. I think I got it right, he drives a 59 Chevy, tell him about my wife, he’s the one who should know first, understand.

Warner remembered his wife’s words. I understand, Amisi said as he admired the woodwork in the study.

Take care of him and his wife also. My wife always talked about them, about what good friends they were.

We’ll be going now, take it easy and rest, our father sends his love. Amisi said, as he and Rattel disappeared into the night.

Hollander sighed and sat down. A lonely eye was watching him from a keyhole in the dining room door. Mrs. Jensen straightened up, and walked out the back kitchen door to her quarters. As she ran down the hill to her house she kept repeating to herself, He killed her, he killed her … .

Cathy Weekes had to gather herself; Dan was already packing and grabbing for clothes at a frantic pace. She had so many things she wanted to take, and had such little time. If Hollander had seen Dan he probably would hire someone immediately. We must get out of this house. First she must gather up her clothes and jewelry grabbing for her overnight case. She started ramming articles from her jewelry box into it.

Cleopatra knew something was very seriously wrong. Ever since Master Dan came home, she felt a fear in both Mistress Cathy and Master Dan. She had never seen this before in humans. Caesar was still blabbing to his sister, Sheba, about his adventure with Master Dan. Cleo thought she would never see her son again. She knew he was going to be taken to another human’s home for them to keep as theirs. She hated to see it because she knew from her experience with her mother, that you never again see your bearer. Its one of the worst things humans do to us. Only just off weaning, and they take you away to a strange human home, alone and scared, never to return to your loving mother.

When Caesar was taken away, her heart sank, but she had nothing to say, because the human has the right as master of the earth. She heard Caesar telling his sister about it. … And then this devil caused Master Dan to shake and sweat, and he sneaked to his machine like our cousin, the panther, and pushed the machine down the path. The devil had large eyes and smoke was coming from his mouth and.

Wait catch your breath, Caesar aren’t you spinning some wild cat and dog story, Cleo interrupted.

No, mother, its all true, the devil pushed the female into the fish bowl and she didn’t want any fish, so he killed her.

Cleo knew one thing; there was some truth to Caesar’s claim. The way the humans were running around, and Caesar meowing about a killing, something very bad happened tonight.

Listen, Caesar, Cleo interrupted him again, the man was no devil, but a human who you were going to stay with as his. I don’t know what you saw, but I think if a human killed another human, then Master Dan is an witness, as humans say, and so are you, Caesar. Don’t be afraid, because Master Dan will straighten all this out.

Caesar loved to listen to his mother talk; she had a flowery easy speech, which calmed him throughout.

But, mom, won’t the devil come after us.

Did he see you, Caesar, Mother Cleo asked.

No, mother he never looked in our direction, but I did smell death, and I don’t like the odor.

Cleo cuddled close to her children, and told them another story about the great cat hero, Simmark, to ease their minds.

Simmark could never refuse to help another cat, Cleo started, "Because he knew that all cats must help one another, and that the Felicity God, Enew, smiles warmly on cats who help others. Simmark saw a cat who just lost his mother. The cat, Esau, sat crying in the path, about to kill himself by jumping into the lake nearby. Simmark said, ‘wait, little one, must your life be forfeit because a human has taken away your mother.’ Esau replied, ‘My mother was everything to me, and what use is my life if I have to live without her.’ Simmark smiled and said, ‘Your mother would not wish for you to end your life, but to live on so that her life was not wasted.’

Esau looked at the stranger for the first time, and realized it was the great one. Simmark went on, ‘I lost my mother to the fire of the devil, Maldon. Humans thought her possessed with the angels of Maldon, and threw her into the fire. Enew is always doing things that are strange to us now; but seem to have a longrange plan for the future. Pick yourself up, and go your way of the Fates, and Enew will guide you to your destiny.’

Esau was scared before because of the odor of death around him, but this cat emitted life and vibrancy that chased all his fears away. ‘Yes, great one, I will walk my fate.’ Esau remarked proudly. Simmark and Esau went on together to great adventures that are legendary." Cleo ended her story.

Caesar hoped mother would never leave him like Esau was deprived.

Cathy was almost packed finally. Dan was running madly about the den grabbing all his books, while Cathy glanced around the bedroom, she happened to spot her Mom and Dad’s picture. She ran to the phone, and dialed the Connecticut number.

Hello, said a tired female voice.

"Hi, Libby, listen