Sherry Chandler

Fax cat

Jury sat down in the chair across the desk from Racer’s own swivel chair, occupied now by Cyril, whose head Jury could just see over the desktop. …Cyril’s eyes were on the new facsimile machine. Ever since Racer had laced Cyril’s tuna with tranquilizers and transported him to one of the pounds, Jury had imagined reprisals in one form or another, taking place in Cyril’s mind.

Cyril sat there and Jury sat there, both of them in their separate ways making plans. …The fax machine beeped twice and then started humming, and Cyril came to quick attention. Now he was on the desk, stalking the machine. Cyril and Jury watched the paper, listened to the machine spit it out inch by inch. Jury leaned over and read. The fax was from the assistant commissioner. He did not read the message, however; Cyril was on it in a flash, sending the paper fluttering to the floor. Then Cyril looked at Jury and slowly blinked, as if the cat were waiting for any suggestions Jury might have with regard to this fax. Jury shrugged.

Cyril slid down from the desk, caught up one corner of the paper in his teeth, and dragged it across the room to the outer office. …Jury moved over to the door to watch.

The fax now lay beneath the water cooler, on the little ledge that held the small paper cup, full of water. The cat did a quick, balletlike turn in the air and knocked the cup off the ledge.

They both stood there watching the water soak into the message, after which Cyril pawed and clawed it around into a soggy ball.

— Martha Grimes, The Horse You Came In On (Ballantyne 1994)

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