The Animal-Lover's Book of Beastly Murder by Patricia Highsmith Read Free Book Online Page B

always greeted the Baron by name. Bubsy was so out of breath, he could hardly speak to the doormen. The Baron knew he was suffering, but had no pity for him.
    In the apartment, Bubsy at once flopped into a chair, mouth open. The Baron’s leash trailed, and he walked dismally down the hall, hesitated at his master’s door, then went in. He collapsed on the carpet by the chair. Back again. How brief had been his pleasure at Marion’s! He heard Bubsy struggling to breathe, undressing in his room now—or at least removing his jacket and whipping off his tie. Then the Baron heard the machine being plugged in. Buzz-zz . . . Click-click . The groan of a chair. Bubsy was doubtless in the chair by his bed, holding the mask over his face.
    Thirsty, the Baron got up to go to the kitchen. His leash, the hand loop part of it, caught under the door and checked him. The Baron patiently entered the room again, pulled the leash out, and went out with his shoulder near the right door jamb so the same accident wouldn’t happen again. It reminded him of nasty tricks Bubsy had used to play when the Baron had been younger. Of course the Baron had played a few tricks, too, tripping Bubsy adroitly while he (the Baron) had been ostensibly only cavorting after a ball. Now the Baron was so tired, his hind legs ached and he limped. Several teeth were hurting. He had chewed too enthusiastically on that bone. The Baron drank all his bowl—it was only half full and stale—then on leaving the kitchen, the Baron caught his leash in the same manner under the kitchen door. Bubsy just then lurched out of his room, coughing, heading for the bathroom, and stepped hard on the Baron’s front paw. The Baron gave an agonized cry, because it had really hurt, nearly broken his toes!
    Bubsy kicked at him and cursed.
    The Baron—as if a mysterious spring had been released—leapt and sank his teeth through Bubsy’s trousers into his lower leg.
    Bubsy screamed, and swatted the Baron on the head with his fist. This made the Baron turn loose, and Bubsy kicked at him again, missing. Bubsy was gasping. The Baron watched Bubsy go into the bathroom, knowing he was going to get a wet towel for his face.
    The Baron was suddenly full of energy. Where had it come from? He stood with forelegs apart, his aching teeth bared, trapped by his leash which was stuck under the kitchen door. When Bubsy emerged with the dripping towel clamped against his forehead, the Baron growled his deepest. Bubsy stumbled past him into his room, and the Baron heard him flop on the bed. Then the Baron went back into the kitchen slowly, so as not to make his leash predicament worse. The leather was tightly wedged this time, and there was not enough space, if the Baron moved towards the sink, to tug it out. The Baron caught the leash in his back teeth and pulled. The leash slipped through his teeth. He tried the other side of his jaw, and with one yank freed the leash. This was the worse side of his jaw, and the pain was awful. The Baron cringed on the floor, eyes shut for a moment, as he would never have cringed before Bubsy or anyone else. But pain was pain. Terrible. The Baron’s very ears seemed to ring with his agony, but he didn’t whine. He was remembering a similar pain inflicted by Bubsy. Or was that true? At any rate, the pain reminded him of Bubsy.
    As the pain subsided, the Baron stood up, on guard against Bubsy who might come to life at any moment. The Baron carefully walked towards the living room, dragging his leash straight behind him, then turned so that he was facing the hall. He sank down and put his chin on his paws and waited, listening, his eyes wide open.
    Bubsy coughed, the kind of cough that meant the mask was off and he was feeling better. Bubsy was getting up. He was going to come into the living room for some champagne, probably. The Baron’s hind legs grew tense, and he really might have moved out of the way if not for a fear in the back of his mind that his leash