That night, after all the humans had left the Shelley Opera House, the cats gathered in the foyer to hold their party. Moonlight filtered through the large windows, bathing the cats in silver pools of luminescence. Cats sat on the stairs or pranced across the floor. Cats slid down the railing of the grand staircase, leaping through the air and twisting their bodies in daring feats before landing on all four paws. Cats yowled at the ceiling above. The Ghost Cat seemed forgotten, at least for one night.
Harry sat alone by the wall, his back against the painted Art Deco plants, their golden fronds reaching for the painted sun above. He scanned the crowd for Roxanne but so far had seen no sign of her. His roving eyes fell on Olga, who stood beneath the grand staircase. She waved her paws in the air as she sang, her voice erupting across the room to where Harry sat. He supposed she had a nice enough voice, but it was nowhere near Roxanne’s talent. Next to Olga sat Norb, who talked with one of the prominent New York cats who attended each year’s party. Several cats who lived with wealthy humans made an appearance, along with the alley cats who tirelessly supported the Opera Cats in one way or another. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Harry wished he could do the same.
“Harry! How are you?” A voice boomed from beside him.
Harry jumped. He turned to discover who had spoken. Alfredo stood beside him, his whiskers twitching and his inky black fur shining in the moonlight.
“I’m good,” Harry said with a sigh. “And you?”
“Very well, thank you. It seems I startled you. Is everything all right?”
“Of course.” Harry stared at his paws. Who had he expected to see? The Ghost Cat? Roxanne’s mysterious teacher? Were they the same cat, or separate creatures? Thinking about such things made Harry shudder. There was a connection there, he knew it.
“Have you seen Roxanne?” Alfredo asked. “I’ve been around this room twice, and I haven’t seen a whisker of her.”
Harry’s shoulders sagged. “I haven’t seen her, either,” he admitted. Again he pondered Roxanne’s teacher. Surely if he were as kind as Roxanne said, he’d allow her one evening to attend the party.
Grinning as if he knew some secret, Alfredo meowed, “You seem quite upset over her absence. I assume it’s more than simple friendly concern, eh?”
Harry twitched his tail. Alfredo’s grin grew wider.
A cat with glistening eyes and a lowered tail padded past them. He glanced at them, sighed, and then walked away. He slipped past more cats without saying so much as a single word to any of them.
“Who was that?” Alfredo perked up, staring after the somber cat.
His eyes wide with recognition, Harry whispered, “That’s Spot.”
“Poor cat. I barely recognized him,” Alfredo murmured with a shake of his head. He clucked his tongue before speaking again. “He’s been lost without his sister since her untimely death. I suspect hearing about the nature of her death has worsened his mental state. Sometimes it is best not to know every detail of certain... events”
Harry watched Spot disappear behind a large potted fern. He gritted his teeth. The murderer still walked free, and he knew it was up to him to apprehend the culprit. The feeling that some cat had been behind Stripe’s death persisted, despite what Clovis or Norb said. Those two cats might want to brush the whole incident aside, but Harry couldn’t—and wouldn’t—especially after seeing Spot's distraught state.
Shifting his shoulders, Harry realized his fur stood on end. He craned his neck around, trying to detect what had caused such a reaction, but the only cat near him was Alfredo, who watched the other cats prance about the room. As Harry turned his gaze back to the party, two blazing pinpricks on the second-floor passageway caught his attention. The pinpricks seemed to grow brighter before disappearing in the shadows. Stories about the Ghost Cat’s blazing eyes flitted in Harry’s mind. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
“You!”
The shout startled Harry. Along with Alfredo and several other cats, Harry turned toward the source of the exclamation. Olga glared at a red cat. The red cat wore an emerald necklace on her head like a human headband.
“Roxanne!” Harry breathed. He trotted toward her, Alfredo right at his heels.
“You have ruined my aria!” Olga hissed, her ears pinned against her head. “Besides, you have no right showing your face here, especially after the sandbag incident. You were one of the cats present at the scene of the crime!”
So the sandbag fiasco had made its rounds throughout the Opera Cat Company. Harry wondered what had been said and how much the story had changed. He also briefly wondered how the story got out. Only he, Roxanne, and Norb had witnessed the sandbag fall, and he couldn’t imagine Norb sharing the story with others for fear of spreading unnecessary panic. Although Norb wasn't one to keep his snout shut, either. Harry knew Roxanne wouldn’t dare say a word about the sandbag; she’d never been one to cause chaos. Of course, he had no way of knowing for sure if his guesses were correct. Perhaps whoever had made the sound above them on the catwalks had spread the story around… or had been the source of the sandbag’s rope being cut.
The cats surrounding Olga murmured and twittered behind their paws. Olga lifted her nose high, proud of the reaction her accusatory words had caused.
Roxanne, too stunned to speak, cowered under Olga’s glare.
Above them, a small head popped through the stair railing. Maggie meowed, “That was cruel, Olga! Roxanne had nothing to do with that sandbag falling, and you know it!”
“I ought to scratch your mouth off your face for talking to me in such a nasty way!” Olga exclaimed. She returned her attention to Roxanne. “As for you, you little rat—” Olga’s eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that necklace?”
Roxanne’s mouth fell open, but no sound issued forth. The worry on her face struck Harry as odd. Why would Roxanne react in such a way to Olga’s remarks? Sensing a fight brewing, Harry darted between Olga and Roxanne.
“Calm down, Olga. No one knows how the sandbag fell. Throwing accusations around isn’t helping,” Harry said.
Straightening herself to her full height, Olga snapped, “What about the necklace on her head? That belongs to Star!”
“There’s more than one emerald necklace in New York City, Olga,” Harry growled. Ignoring the gasps rippling around him, he turned to Roxanne and said, “Let’s go for a walk. Follow me.”
With a tiny nod, Roxanne scuttled away from the piercing glares. She trotted after Harry, who was already several paw steps away from Olga and her crowd. Around them, cats whispered about Roxanne and the necklace she wore, which may or may not have belonged to Star.
Alfredo watched them with a concerned expression. “Young love can be hard during difficult trials,” he murmured to himself.
Once Harry and Roxanne were out of Olga's earshot, Harry asked, “What was she really upset about? Surely it wasn’t the sandbag. She was nowhere near the stage when that happened. And the necklace—she has to realize that Star isn’t the only human who owns an emerald necklace. You remember that Bellows’ wife has that same exact necklace, don’t you?” Of course, that still didn’t paint Roxanne in a positive light. Dispelling his suspicions with a shake of his head, Harry asked, “I’m sure you found it, or Lady gave it to you.”
Silence met Harry’s ears. He swiveled around to face Roxanne. “Roxanne?” he pressed.
Roxanne trembled. She gaped at the floor, and for the first time, Harry noticed how thin her face had recently become. “There are worse matters for me to worry about. Olga claims she was poisoned a month ago, and that’s how she became ill. She blames me! I don’t know where she lives! I wouldn’t even know how to poison someone!” Roxanne wailed. She stared at Harry with tired eyes. “She wants to enact revenge. She’s very similar to her human. They both won’t leave matters alone until someone’s life has been ruined.”
Harry flicked his tail. “That cat has too much time on her paws. Don’t let her get to you.”
“If other cats hear her suspicions—if they believe her poisoning idea—I’ll never sing in this city again,” Roxanne murmured, her voice cracking.
“Norb knows Olga tends to exaggerate the truth and lie. Let’s discuss other things,” Harry suggested. He knew his words were true; most cats in the company believed very little of what Olga said. Of course, in light of recent events, the Opera Cats might be more receptive to Olga’s ramblings. It would be best to not mention that idea to Roxanne unless it became absolutely necessary.
Roxanne relaxed a little at Harry’s words. Feeling bold, Harry said, “Your teacher was fine with you attending the party, then.”
Roxanne’s ears shivered, but she nodded. “He wasn’t happy about it, but he thought it would be best because…” Her words trailed off.
Harry waited for Roxanne to continue, but when she remained silent, he urged, “Because why?”
“I’ve said enough,” Roxanne muttered. She dipped her head, resulting in the necklace on her head sliding down her nose.
“Listen to me, Roxanne. If you’re in trouble, if you don’t want to leave for who knows how long with that teacher of yours—”
“It’s not that!” Roxanne jumped backward. “I should never have told you about him. I must go now. Goodbye, goodbye!” She ran off, her tail swatting the air and the necklace thumping against her fur. She slid on the floor and collided with Norb, who shouted expletives at her. Roxanne darted toward the stairway that led down to the dressing rooms without a glance back.
Harry blinked. Everything had happened so fast that he barely registered what just transpired. But he realized Roxanne was leaving to be with her teacher, so he bounded after her. He raced down the stairs, his heart pounding. He’d gone to the third floor before he realized Roxanne had vanished.
“Roxanne?” Harry called. “Roxanne!”
“Shhh!”
Fear prickling his skin, Harry swiveled around and came face to face with a wiry cat smaller than he. The cat’s brown fur blended with the gloom, but his pale blue eyes shone like two tiny orbs, sending a shiver down Harry’s back. He thought about other eyes glaring at him, yellow eyes that pierced his own, and he gulped.
The cat stepped forward, forcing Harry to step back. “Leave Roxanne alone… for now. She’s in grave danger, and you might make things worse for her,” the cat hissed.
In a quiet voice, Harry asked, “Who is Roxanne in danger from?” He suspected he already knew the answer to his question, but he needed to hear it out loud.
The cat simply stared. When he didn’t answer, Harry lunged at him, but the cat moved too fast. The wiry cat leaped on the door handle behind him and then clambered the rest of the way up the door to the open transom window above.
Steadying himself on the windowsill, the cat said, “That I cannot tell you, but know this: he isn’t who Roxanne believes him to be. I will search for the secret passage to where Roxanne has gone. It’s too dangerous for those who are unprepared for ghastliness, such as yourself. A certain degree of patience and much carefulness is required for my monumental task at paw. Rest assured, I, Kip, will ensure Roxanne’s safe return!” The cat jumped from the window to the other side of the door.
Roxanne in danger? Harry bunched his back legs under himself. I should leave Roxanne alone? He leaped to the door handle, more thoughts flying through his head as he did so. I will make things worse by going after Roxanne? Harry climbed to the window as the brown cat had done. Harry couldn’t leave this matter alone. Why should he obey some cat he’d just met? He’d figure this whole mess out himself, as he was doing with Stripe’s murder. Now more than ever before, he sensed the murder and Roxanne’s teacher were intertwined.
After Harry slid to the floor on the other side of the door, he gasped. The room was empty.