The Cat's Calling. A Lisa Becker Short Mystery E-Book

Falko Rademacher

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Mischa is caught up by his past. Back in the days, when he witnessed a brutal murder, he narrowly escaped with his life. But the killer has never been convicted, as the body has not been found. Years later, Mischa has to face his demons yet again, and he is all alone and can only rely on himself. For Mischa is a tomcat. A Short Mystery Thriller based in Berlin with Lisa Becker and a little detective on four paws.

Leseprobe

The Cat’s Calling

A Lisa Becker Short Mystery

by Falko Rademacher

© 2014 by Falko Rademacher, 13597 Berlin

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, would be purely coincidental.

Also by Falko Rademacher

A Philip Eckstein Thriller

A Suitcase Full of Blood

American, Die

A Lisa Becker Mystery

Heads Off

Dead Beauties

The Vampire from Berlin

A Lisa Becker Short Mystery

The 30-Year-Old Man Who Fell Out the Window and Died

The Cat’s Calling

Contents

Dead Eyes

Skeleton in the Basement

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Epilogue

Dead Eyes

Mischa feared the rain instinctively. As long as he could remember, he used to hide somewhere when it was raining, somewhere where he couldn’t see or hear anything. Right now, he didn’t wish for anything more than to find such a place. He was already completely soaking wet as he ran through the streets of the big city that night, increasingly panic-stricken.

A disgusting place. Many people lived here, although most of them were asleep at this time of night of course. Yet, Mischa was able to sense the presence of all these people and, unfortunately, also of their four-legged filthy monsters. Everywhere they left their smelly droppings, as if they had never heard of the words “hygiene” and “dignity”.

He was not used to this life on the street. That was not his world. Everything he saw scared him. He would have loved to just close his eyes and open them up again only once it turned out, that this was all just a bad dream and that he still lived with Frau Koenig.

As always when he thought of the old lady, his fur bristled, he moved a little more slowly and shook his head, causing the water soaked up in his fur to squirt absolutely everywhere. His whiskers were stuck together, and Mischa tried to blow them apart, but to no avail. Back on that day, when he had been absolutely petrified and had run out of the house, it had been raining. That morning he had sneaked into the bedroom, as he did every day, and with a single leap he had jumped on the blanket to wake Frau Koenig. The old lady had not moved, so he had climbed up to her face to tickle her. She was pale, even more pale than usual. Her eyes were wide open and had been staring at Mischa sightlessly. For a few seconds he was paralyzed with horror. He had never seen a dead human, and yet, he had known immediately what was going on. It was only then, that the fear caught up with him and filled him with panic. He ran out of the house, down the street, across the meadow, far further than ever before. That was four weeks ago. The rain had not helped. Mischa had very soon lost any sense of direction. He never found his way back home. But what good would it have done anyway?

A car drove by, and for a split second Mischa contemplated to throw himself in front of it, just as it drove into a large puddle and splashed the tomcat all over with mud. Seething with rage he hissed at the disappearing car. In the glow of a street lamp he inspected his fur, it was absolutely filthy. Downcast, he thought of how proud he had always been of his shiny black fur, and how carefully he had taken care of himself to please the neighbor’s cats. Frau Koenig had often brushed him, even though she had thought of it less and less in recent months, as she seemed to have forgotten almost everything else as well. On some days she wouldn’t even get up anymore. Sometimes it crossed Mischa’s mind that she might still be lying there...

Never before was the thought of death as close as that night. He needed to get some kip, escape into a long and deep sleep.

There! A driveway with an open gate! Surely, it led to a courtyard. There was almost always a dry place. Mischa entered, as always cautiously, but with the single-mindedness of someone who had nothing to lose. His nose revealed everything to him: There were no other cats and no dogs - almost a miracle in this city. These yapping mutts were everywhere, chasing him for fun, often cheered on by their moronic owners. Yes, owners! They really were. Frau Koenig had never posed as his owner. He had obeyed her, but because he wanted to. She had been a dear old lady.

The passage led into a courtyard with some small green areas and tiny gardens. That was nice and suggested the presence of a more upmarket clientele. Those people sometimes had children, who were fetching him milk. But his nose didn’t scent anything that pointed to the presence of small people. They were quite rare in this district. No wonder, who would want to raise their young in such a lousy area anyway?

Eventually, he found an open basement window. Without thinking twice, he squeezed through the narrow opening and landed on a pile of coal, as he couldn’t help but recognize, despite the darkness.

Damn!

Coal tasted atrociously, and he didn’t look forward to his hygiene regimen. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered, but he simply couldn’t do anything against that.

Skillfully he climbed down the heap, which was almost piled up to the ceiling. Luckily, it wasn’t completely dark, there was light coming from upstairs, and the basement door was seemingly not fully closed. Now Mischa could also hear faint voices. Swiftly, he climbed up the steps and stuck his head around the door. The door led to a somewhat modest kitchen, which consisted almost entirely of white kitchen furniture, like the table in the center. Two men sat at the table and argued noisily with each other. Mischa understood the language of humans just as little as they understood his meowing. But just as Frau Koenig always understood when he was hungry or wanted to go out, Mischa understood, that the two men were apparently fighting over the contents of a small leather sachet, which the older man held in his hand.

“You can never get enough!” ranted the other. “How dare you always split the goods in whatever way you please? I have done as much as you!”

The older guy laughed sarcastically: “You? You sat outside in the car picking your nose, while I cleared out the jeweler’s safe!”