Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Sidekick. Purrfect Deseit. Purrfect Ruse [calibre 5.14.0]

“Sorry, fellas,” said Kingman as his eyes wandered in the direction of a petite Siamese who’d come walking along. “Can’t help you.” And it was clear our audience with our town’s feline mayor was at an end when he called out, “Trixie! Long time no see!”

So we decided to move on and soon were treated to a rare sight: our very own human, putting up flyers on lampposts, depicting the very cat we were looking for.

Chapter 3

Odelia had decided that the best thing she could do was to print out some flyers of Mrs. Bunyon’s missing cat and distribute these around Hampton Cove. And she’d just started doing this when she came upon her grandmother, who was sipping her usual hot cocoa in the outside dining area of the Star hotel, along with her friend Scarlett Canyon.

“I’ve got a job for you, Gran,” said Odelia as she placed a little stack of flyers in front of both ladies. “A cat’s gone missing, and I want you to put up these flyers for me.”

“Missing cat?” asked Gran with a frown as she glanced at the flyer. “I’m sorry, honey,” she promptly added as she handed the little stack back. “The watch doesn’t do missing cats.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Of course I’m serious. The watch takes care of the big stuff—serious crime—hardened criminals. Missing cats is not something we’ve got time for, I’m afraid.”

“Vesta, we could look into this one missing cat for Odelia,” said Scarlett, who was dressed to the nines in a nice little floral top, her red hair done up and her makeup tastefully applied. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve got anything else going on at the moment.”

“No, but we could have something else going on soon, and if we’re locked into this cat business we won’t have time for the other, more important stuff, now would we?”

“Just… do it already, will you?” said Odelia, who didn’t want to waste time standing around arguing with her recalcitrant grandmother.

And she placed the flyers in Scarlett’s hands, who took them gratefully, and said, “Don’t you worry about a thing, honey. We’ll take care of this for you.”

“Scarlett!” said Gran. “What are you doing?”

“Missing cats are part of the watch’s mission statement, or didn’t you get the memo?”

“What memo? What mission statement?”

Scarlett grinned. “Okay, so there’s no memo, but I think finding missing pets definitely should be part of our mission statement.”

“Oh, all right,” Gran grumbled. “But if the big one hits and we’re too busy looking for this… Chouchou of yours, I’m going to blame you.”

Just then, Max and Dooley came trotting up. “We just talked to Kingman,” said Dooley, “and he says at least half a dozen cats have gone missing, but he’s not worried, because cats always land on their feet.”

“Half a dozen cats?” said Odelia.

“What did he say?” asked Scarlett.

“That more cats have gone missing,” said Gran.

“At least half a dozen,” Dooley reiterated. “But he’s not worried and so neither should we. Isn’t that right, Max?”

“Absolutely,” said Max, though the large blorange cat did look slightly worried.

“Kingman thinks that these missing cats went on a toot and they’ll be back soon.”

“Cats don’t go on toots,” said Odelia with a frown.

“What did he say?” asked Scarlett, trying to read Dooley’s lips and failing.

“That Kingman says the missing cats have gone on a toot.”

“Do cats go on toots?”

“No, they don’t. Cats don’t drink,” said Gran. “So correct me if I’m wrong, but if half a dozen cats have gone missing, shouldn’t the police be out looking for them?”

“The police aren’t interested in missing cats,” said Scarlett. “They’ve got better things to do—just like you, by the way, Vesta.”

Gran had the decency to pull a remorseful face. “Okay, so maybe you were right.”

“Can you please repeat that?” asked Scarlett, placing her hand to her ear.

“You were right, all right?!”

“This is a momentous occasion,” said Scarlett, giving Odelia a wink. “Vesta Muffin admitting she was wrong.”

“I didn’t say I was wrong. I just said you were right. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, and Kingman says Wilbur and Father Reilly want to rejoin the watch,” said Max.

“No way in hell,” Gran growled.

“What did he say?” asked Scarlett, starting to look a little frustrated.

“Wilbur and Francis want back on the watch.”

“No way in hell,” said Scarlett, a rare frown marring her smooth brow.

“That’s what I said!”

“So what do you want us to do?” asked Max. “About Chouchou, I mean?”

“I want you to keep looking,” Odelia instructed. “Meanwhile I’ll drop by the police station and see if they’ve received any of these missing cats reports. If they all went missing around the same time we just might have a catnapper on our hands.”

“A catnapper!” Dooley cried.

“Better ask the people from the shelter, too,” said Gran. “They may have hired some overzealous newbie, who goes around picking up any and all pets that are roaming free.”

“But I don’t want to be napped!” said Dooley, much disturbed. “I don’t think I’d like it.”

“You’re not going to get napped, Dooley,” said Max reassuringly. Then, turning to Odelia, he added, “We’re on the case. If those cats were nabbed, we’ll find them for you.”

Gran shook her head. “People kidnapping cats. What is the world coming to?”

Chapter 4

Dooley and I decided to go a little farther afield. We’d already covered the downtown area, and since Odelia was taking charge there, along with Gran and Scarlett, it didn’t seem necessary for us to stick around. Instead I decided to follow a crazy hunch: our primary source of information might be Kingman, but we had more contacts we hadn’t yet exhausted. And one of those contacts was our old friend Clarice.

“Maybe we can ask Clarice?” said Dooley now, obviously on the same wavelength.

“And how do you figure that?”

“Well, if Chouchou and those other missing cats would have stayed around the downtown area, Kingman would have seen them, wouldn’t he? And so maybe they’ve gone to the woods, and if anyone knows those woods like the back of her paw, it’s Clarice.”

I smiled. It’s always nice to see your own ideas reflected in the cats closest to you. So I patted my friend on the back, and said, “Let’s go pay a visit to Clarice, then.”

“But… where will we find her, Max?”

Now that’s one of those problems facing any cat looking for our feral friend: Clarice is one of those cats that don’t have a fixed abode. Whenever we need to talk to Kingman, we always know where to find him, and the same goes for our other friends. Clarice, on the other hand, likes to roam wild and free, and since like most cats she doesn’t have a cell phone, it can be tough to pin her down.

“Let’s start with the back alleys,” I said therefore, since Clarice doesn’t like to depend on a human for her nourishment, and does her hunting and gathering all by herself.

And so we proceeded in the direction of those back alleys that Clarice likes to prowl, looking for her meal of the day.

The first alley was a bust, and so was the second one, but when we passed through the third alley, we hit pay dirt.

“Don’t tell me you guys are looking for a bite to eat,” said Clarice when we found her underneath a nearby dumpster.

“Clarice!” I said with a start. That cat never ceases to startle me.

“We’re not looking for food,” said Dooley. “We’re looking for Chouchou and the others.”