Ник Сайнт - Purrfectly Hidden. Purrfect Kill. Purrfect Boy Toy

“You’re obviously saying I sing so bad people will drop dead. Well, let me tell you—”

“Knock em dead is a commonly used expression in showbiz, Harriet. It means that you’ll do so well you’ll knock the audience off their feet. You’ll simply blow them away.”

“Oh,” she said, taken aback. “Well, thank you, Max. That’s very nice of you to say.”

“I’m doing backing vocals,” Brutus muttered, looking pained. “And in front of some of the greats in showbiz, too.” He smiled nervously. “Shouldn’t we rehearse, though, smoochie poo?”

“No need,” said Harriet decidedly. “Talent always shines through. Only talentless hacks rehearse. Real talent simply connects to the flow of divine genius and… dazzles.” She did the jazz paws thing to show us what she meant.

“Connect to the flow of divine genius and dazzle,” Brutus repeated, not looking entirely convinced. “Gotcha.”

“You are coming, aren’t you, Max? And you, Dooley” asked Harriet. “You have to see my debut. Or else you’ll whine and complain about it for the rest of your napping lives.”

“Sure,” I said, and Harriet smiled, then stalked off, tail high and her head even higher.

“Maybe one rehearsal?” I could hear Brutus say as they walked out into the backyard.

“No means no, Brutus. We’re stars. Stars don’t rehearse. It might jinx us.”

“No, no, of course,” he said. “You’re probably right.” His tail was down, though, which is never a good sign.

“So is Harriet going to be a big star now, Max?” asked Dooley. “And Brutus?”

“I doubt it, Dooley. It takes talent to be a star, and Harriet, regardless of her numerous other and very wonderful qualities, lacks the one thing that makes a great singer.”

“What is that?”

“She can’t sing.”

“Maybe people won’t notice?”

“Oh, I think people will notice.”

“So maybe you should tell her?”

“She wouldn’t believe me if I did. In fact she’ll probably get mad.”

“But won’t she make a fool of herself tonight?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the course of my life, Dooley,” I said, “it is that people can hardly tell the difference between a cat who can and a cat who can’t sing. To humans it all sounds the same: like caterwauling. And they rarely enjoy it. And as far as other cats are concerned, I think we’ll probably be the only cats present. The Mayor rarely invites felines to his shindigs and tonight won’t be an exception I’m afraid.”

“That’s too bad, Max. After all we are members of his community.”

“We’re members of this community but we’re not voters, Dooley. And we don’t pay taxes. So as far as the Mayor is concerned we simply don’t exist.”

“If I were able to vote I’d vote for you, Max.”

I laughed at this. “Max for mayor. Now wouldn’t that be something?”

But Dooley was serious. “I think you’d make a great mayor, Max.”

“Oh, Dooley. I’d make a terrible mayor. For one thing I can’t even sign my own name, and it’s hard to give an acceptance speech when no one in the audience understands what you’re saying. No, trust me, buddy. No cat will ever be mayor of this town. That’s one of those facts of life you better accept now or agonize about in silence forever.”

“Well, fine. But I still think you’d be great.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said with a smile. “I’ll tell you one thing, though. If I were voted mayor I’d make you my second-in-command. And maybe we’d finally outlaw all dogs in this town. Make Hampton Cove the first dog-free town in America.”

“See? Who wouldn’t vote for that?”

“Dogs, maybe?”

He thought about this for a moment. “No, you’re probably right. And if pets could vote, dogs would probably try to get a dog elected. And where would that leave us?”

“They’d probably turn Hampton Cove into the first cat-free town in America.”

Dooley shook his head sadly. “We simply can’t win, can we, Max?”

Chapter 19

Odelia arrived home wearing a deep frown. Writing the article, she’d realized how important it was to catch whoever had killed Chickie that morning, and she felt seriously hampered in her investigation by the Mayor’s veto. She now had a strong suspicion Laron Weskit and the others might skip town tonight after the show, and there was nothing she could do about it. And the more she thought about that contingency the more upset she became. And as she paced her modest home, she suddenly caught sight of Max and Dooley, quietly dozing on the windowsill, and an idea struck her.

She approached her two cats and gently shook Max, then whispered in his ear, “Yoo-hoo, sleepyhead.”

He made the cutest mewling sound, then opened his eyes and sleepily stared at her.

“I want you to go with me tonight to the Hampton Cove Star, Max. There’s a big party and I want you to do some spying for me. Think you’re up for it?”

Max yawned widely and said, “Is that the same party Harriet will sing at?”

“Harriet is going to sing tonight?”

“That’s what she said. Gran is giving her a part of her slot.”

Odelia frowned. “Gran is also going to sing?”

“It would appear so.”

“Huh,” said Odelia. “I didn’t know that.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s going to be a family occasion.”

“Well, so there you go. Another good reason to be my eyes and ears tonight.”

“I want to come and see Harriet, too,” said Dooley, stretching so much he almost dropped from the windowsill. She could just prevent him from toppling into the abyss.

“You can both come,” she assured him. “You’re not going to miss Harriet’s show.”

She thought for a moment. “So, um, I don’t think cats are particularly welcome at this shindig. It’s going to be very posh, with lots of celebrities and local politicians and businesspeople. The Mayor is going to give a speech, and hand the keys to the city to Charlie Dieber, but before that they reserved the stage for local talent—that’s when Dad and Gran and Harriet will perform. And then at the end of the evening Charlie will sing a couple of songs, and a duet with Jamie. So what I need you to do is snoop around Laron’s and Charlie’s rooms. I’m not allowed to talk to them and neither is my uncle or Chase, but that isn’t going to stop me from trying to find out as much about them as I can.”

“We could watch the show from the wings,” Max suggested. “And once Gran and Harriet’s bits are done we could sneak out and go and search those rooms for you.”

It sounded like a plan and she smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal, buddy.”

“So how are we going to get inside?” asked Max.

“Let me worry about that. Oh, and do you know where Harriet and Brutus are? I want to ask them to join you. Four cats can snoop around a lot more than two.”

“But Harriet will be on stage,” said Dooley.

“I know, I mean when she’s done performing.”

And then she was off, in search of the other two members of her cat menagerie.

The Mayor might have prevented her from gaining access to four potential witnesses or even suspects, but he didn’t know she had four furry secret weapons at her disposal.

She passed through the hedge that connected her backyard to her parents’, and walked into the kitchen. Mom was preparing dinner, looking a little rattled.

“Have you seen Harriet and Brutus?” she asked. “I need to ask them something.”

“Did you know your grandmother has decided to usurp your father?” asked Mom.

“Usurp Dad? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you remember how she said she wants to be the new Beyoncé?”