By Lydia Adamson
While actress and beginner sleuth Alice Nestleton whips up an anniversary meal for her actor buddies, the satisfied couple simply die-of nutrition poisoning. the single witnesses are the couple's little kittens. certainly lovely, yet in no way plausible at the witness stand. because of this Alice is the best suspect. And whereas the actor in Alice may possibly love the highlight, this isn't the type of awareness she needs... "Slyly captivating." (Publishers Weekly) "Another gem for cat secret fans." (Library magazine)
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Extra info for A Cat With no Clue (Alice Nestleton Mysteries)
About forty, she was tiny, and her movements were always jerky—but she exuded efficiency, was polite to everyone, and was the person who kept the restaurant afloat. The moment she recognized me, she burst into tears. We blubbered together. Tony walked past us, into the restaurant, as if he were entering a beloved 37 Lydia Adamson eatery. This was a fake entrance—an act. Most of the time Tony had refused to go there. He considered it a tourist place, which really was unfair of him. ’’ The only thing he liked about the place was its dependence on a dumbwaiter to deliver the food from a subterranean kitchen to the second-floor dining area.
Tony cursed him. G. spat a curse back. My, my, my—Alice’s ex-lovers were acting up. I didn’t know what to make of the gargoyle coincidence. It was a stretch. After all, I had no proof that the kitten poster had anything to do with the murders at all. Much less with Baby Kate. ’’ 47 Lydia Adamson He was quick to comply. It defused the situation. Tony had a beer. G. and Sam had bourbon on the rocks. I had a ginger ale. The kittens discovered Sam and began to climb all over him. He beamed and started one of his lectures on the brilliance of his fictional detective, Harry Bondo.
I got a whole lot more than zip,’’ Sam blurted out, blowing a mammoth smoke ring skyward. We waited for his explanation. ‘‘The waiter who delivered the food—the one who got blown away, Jerrard—he was a comic. A bad one, I hear. Didn’t work much. Played a club in Queens, over the bridge, in Long Island City. A topless comedy club. I spoke to the manager. A creep named Dallek. ’’ When no one ventured a guess, Tully continued: ‘‘The kid was in to a very nasty loan shark for a whole lot of money.