Cat Fear No Evil

by Shirley Rousseau Murphy

(Joe Grey Cat Mystery Series, Book 9)

HarperCollins, 2004
Hardcover: ISBN 0066209498
Paperback: Avon, ISBN 0061015601
E-book: HarperCollins
Large Print: Thorndike, ISBN 078626621X
Audiobook: Download and digital rental (CD no longer available)

When antiques and jewelry begin to disappear from residents' homes and when a waiter drops dead at the feet of artist Charlie Harper during the opening of her solo show, Joe Grey, Feline Detective, and his tabby pal Dulcie know something is very wrong in sleepy Molena Point, California.

Just north in San Francisco the cats' friend Kate--a woman with a troubling secret--is followed and robbed, her apartment invaded by a renegade tomcat named Azrael. Stealthily Joe and Dulcie pursue the several trails until they claw out the truth.

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Quotes from the reviews

"...superior cat cozy, the ninth entry in Murphy's popular series... As usual, the relationships between the lively human characters and the talking cats in whom they confide their problems provide as much interest as the crime solving. The intricate and absorbing plot keeps the reader in suspense throughout." --Publisher's Weekly, February 2, 2004 (starred review)

"Azrael, the sinister black tomcat with burning yellow eyes introduced in Cat in the Dark (1999), has returned to Molena Point, California, to embark on another crime spree with human cohorts.... Once again the delightful mix of humans, sentient cats, mystery, and humor remains true to the preceding books in the series." --Booklist, January 14, 2004

"Murphy's sentient felines are believable. These are not cute, purr-fect little cuddly kitties. Joe has plenty of attitude and although Dulcie can handle the often sardonic critter, he can be (just like a real cat) a handful at times." --Robert Walch, Carmel Magazine, Summer/Fall 2004

"The author has captured all the nuances in feline attitude that cat owners will instantly recognize. If you have followed the Joe Grey series, you won't want to miss this one. If you've never read one, maybe it's about time you did! ... [A] whodunit with a very unusual and beguiling sleuth ... Murphy obviously knows the ins and outs of kitty psychology." --Salinas Californian, March 6, 2004

"...highly unusual and beautifully written ... well-plotted ... and as usual it's fast-paced and intriguing.... Despite the fantasy angle in the Joe Grey series, these are adult books dealing with adult themes." --Margot Nichols, Carmel Pine Cone, March 12, 2004

"Lovable feline sleuths, Joe Grey, Dulcie and the kit, take to the investigative trail once again.... Murphy's sentient cats have attracted a lot of attention and a large following of appreciative readers." --Bob Walch, Monterey County Herald

Excerpt from the story

During the first week of October, when an icy wind blew off the Pacific rattling the windows of Molena Point's shops, and the shops, half buried beneath blowing oaks, were bright with expensive gifts and fall colors, residents were startled by three unusual burglaries. Townsfolk stopping in the bakery, enticed by saffron-scented delicacies, sipped their coffee while talking of the thefts. Wrapped in coats and scarves, striding briskly on their errands, they had left their houses carefully locked behind them.

Burglaries are not surprising during the pre-Christmas season when a few no-goods want to shop free of entailing expense. But these crimes did not involve luxury items from local boutiques. No hand-wrought cloisonné chokers or luxurious leather jackets, no sleek silver place settings or designer handbags. The value of the three items stolen was far greater.

A five-hundred-thousand-dollar painting by Richard Diebenkorn disappeared from Marlin Dorriss's oceanfront home without a trace of illegal entry. A diamond choker worth over a million vanished from Betty and Kip Slater's small, handsome cottage in the center of the village. And the largest and hardest to conceal, a vintage Packard roadster in prime condition was removed from Clyde Damen's automotive repair shop, again without any sign of forced entry.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Clyde had purchased the Packard in rusted and deteriorating condition from a farmer in the hills north of Sacramento who was later indicted for killing his grandfather. It was now a beautiful car, in finer shape than when it had come from the factory. When Clyde opened the shop very early, planning to spend the morning on his own work, the space where the Packard had stood beside a half-finished Bentley was empty. Shockingly and irrefutably empty. A plain, bare patch of concrete.

Before calling the cops Clyde did the sensible thing. He locked the shop again and went out into the village to find his housemate, a large gray tomcat. Finding Joe Grey trotting along the street Clyde swung out of the car and rudely snatched him up. "Come on, I have a job for you!"

"What's with you!" Joe hissed. "What the hell!" . . . . . .

"I need you bad," Clyde said. "Need you now."

At this amazing announcement, too surprised to argue further, Joe allowed himself to be hoisted into Clyde's yellow Chevy coupe and chauffeured around to the handsome Mediterranean complex that housed Clyde's upscale automotive shop. Joe was a big cat, muscled and lithe. In the morning sun, riding in the open convertible, his short gray coat gleamed like polished silver. The white triangle down his nose gave him a perpetual frown, however. But his white paws were snowy, marked with only one stain of mouse blood, which he had missed in his hasty wash. Standing on the yellow leather seat of the Chevy, front paws on the dashboard, he watched the village cottages and shops glide by, their plate glass windows warping in the wind. . . . . .

Clyde pulled up behind the shop, unlocked the back shop door, and slid it open. "Don't call the station yet," Joe said, trotting inside. "Give me time to look around. . . . . . . You're buying me breakfast for this favor."

"You had breakfast. Your belly's dragging with mice."

"An appetizer, a mere snack. Are you asking me to work for nothing?"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"May I point out to you, Joe, that no one else in Molena Point has deli delivered to their cat door."

"The deli guy doesn't know it's the cat door. I tell them--"

"What you tell them is my credit card number. If I weren't such a sucker and so damned kindhearted--"

"I just tell them to leave it on the porch. Why would they suspect the cat door? What I do with the delivery after they leave can't concern them."

"No one else in the world, Joe, pays his cat's deli bill . . ."

Read a longer sample from inside the book

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