Spotted Cats by William G. Tapply Read Free Book Online Page A

sudden and full of terror, and then she screamed again. Her voice echoed emptily back to us.
    She stared wild-eyed at me and began to shake her head violently from side to side. She opened her mouth again. I went quickly to her. I put both of my arms around her and held her tightly. ‘Hey,’ I whispered into her hair. ‘He’s probably out there in the yard somewhere, stomping around, too mad to answer. Pissing and moaning as usual, right?’
    She clung to me. Her nails dug into my back. I murmured to her, ‘It’s all right. He’s OK, now. Take it easy.’ I hugged her against me. Gradually I felt her relax.
    After a minute she tilted her chin up to look at me. She tried to smile. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’m all right now.’
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You’re fine.’ I stepped away from her and took her hand. ‘Come on. Let’s find him.’
    We moved down the path, Lily gripping my hand hard and leading me along behind her. Abruptly she stopped short, took a step backward, and I bumped into her. ‘It’s Tondo,’ she said. I gripped her shoulders and looked past her.
    He was lying on his side just off the path. I squatted beside the Doberman. His eyes were glazed open. Tiny black insects crawled over them. The dog’s tongue lolled out of his half-open mouth. It was pink and waxy. Under its head a puddle of black blood had soaked into the pine needles and congealed. It looked like an oil spill.
    Tondo’s throat had been slashed.
    I looked up at Lily. ‘Dead,’ I said.
    She nodded. ‘Ngwenya,’ she called. ‘Where are you, dog?’ She whistled once.
    I stood up and continued along the path to the gate. Lily followed behind me. Twenty feet farther along I saw dark stains in the sand. I followed them. I found Ngwenya under a bush. It looked as if he had crawled there to die. He was lying in his own pool of clotted blood. Large, shiny green-eyed flies sipped at it. ‘He’s here,’ I said to Lily. ‘Dead, too.’
    She didn’t answer. I turned. She had moved past me towards the gate.
    She didn’t scream. Her voice was almost conversational. ‘Brady,’ she said, ‘come here.’
    She was kneeling beside Jeff. Her head was bent close to his face. I scooched down beside her. ‘Is he…?’
    ‘No. He’s breathing. Very slowly. He’s—oh, Jesus.’
    He was lying foetally on his right side, wearing his cotton pyjamas. A dark wet patch stained the white hair over his left ear. There was a great deal of black blood on his pyjamas. More blood had pooled and congealed on the ground under his head.
    ‘Don’t move him,’ I said to Lily. ‘Stay here. I’ll get an ambulance.’
    I sprinted up the path to the house. I went to the telephone on the kitchen wall and tapped out the 911 emergency number.
    ‘Orleans 911.’ Professional, efficient, bored, female. ‘Can I help you?’
    ‘I need help. There’s been an assault. A man is seriously injured.’
    ‘What sort of injury?’
    ‘Head. He’s been hit on the head. He’s unconscious.’
    ‘Breathing?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Where are you?’
    ‘Quashnet Lane. Jeff Newton’s home. I don’t know the street number.’
    ‘Hold the line, please.’
    After perhaps thirty seconds of static, she came back on the line. ‘OK, sir. The EMTs are on the way. Don’t touch the injured man or try to move him. Put a blanket over him. OK?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Who is this, please.’
    ‘Coyne. My name is Brady Coyne.’
    ‘And the victim?’
    ‘It’s Jeff Newton. I’m his lawyer.’
    ‘Was this an accident, or—?’
    ‘I told you, he was hit on the head. It was an assault.’
    ‘Yes, I’m sorry. You did say that. When did it happen?’
    ‘I don’t know. Last night sometime. There was a burglary, too.’
    ‘OK. I’ll inform the police. Try not to touch anything.’
    I said, ‘Thank you,’ but she had already hung up.
    I went into my bedroom and ripped the blanket off my bed. I jogged back to where Lily was crouched beside Jeff. I folded the blanket over his inert