Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Alibi

“We’ll be here all week,” said Uncle Alec. “And if my officers discover I’ve been showing mugshots to a darn cat they’ll call the loony bin and those jokers will have me in a straitjacket in no time.”

“Oh, don’t be such a pussy, Alec,” said Gran. “Who cares what those losers think about you? If I paid attention to what people say behind my back I’d go nuts.”

Uncle Alec’s face, always on the ruddy side, had taken on a darker hue. He resembled one of those cartoon steam engines about to pop. “I’m the chief of police of this here town, Ma, so excuse me if I care about my reputation. It’s my job that’s on the line, not yours.”

Since Grandma didn’t really have a job, apart from helping out her son-in-law by playing receptionist at the doctor’s office, I was curious to hear what she’d have to say about that. Dooley and Big Mac and I turned our heads back to Gran, almost like at a tennis match.

“Man up!” said Gran. “This cat risked life and limb to give you this most interesting witness testimony and all you can think about is your reputation? Give me a break.”

Uncle Alec’s face was now puce. It didn’t become him.

“Let’s all settle down,” said Odelia, always the peacekeeper. “We’re on the same page here. Now what we need to figure out is how to go about this thing.”

“Preferably before Chase returns,” the Chief muttered. “With a barbecue chicken pizza and side of straitjacket.”

Odelia turned to Big Mac, who’d been following the altercation intently. “Tell us about these people you saw. Can you describe them?”

Big Mac scrunched up his face. It was obvious he was thinking hard. “Um, well, there was the pizza guy, like I told Max.”

“Pizza guy,” Odelia translated for Uncle Alec’s sake.

“Which explains the pizza box we saw,” Alec said, nodding.

“Only there was something weird about him,” Big Mac said.

“In what way?” asked Odelia.

Big Mac shrugged. “He didn’t smell like no pizza guy to me.”

Cats have a very powerful sense of smell. In fact their sense of smell is about fourteen times stronger than a human’s. Which means we can smell pizza a mile away.

Odelia decided to ignore the pizza comment. Big Mac obviously was very choosy when it came to his pizza. “So who else did you see?” she asked.

“Did you see this guy?” asked Uncle Alec, who seemed anxious to speed things up. He produced an actual mugshot and showed it to Big Mac, who eagerly nodded.

“Yup. I definitely saw him. He smelled like stale beer and dirty socks. Very icky.”

“Sasha Drood,” said Odelia, locking eyes with her uncle, who nodded.

“Oh, and then there was a guy who smelled like some type of expensive cologne,” said Big Mac. “He was dressed in a fancy suit, too, and had a head like a potato.”

“That sure narrows it down,” said Gran.

I think she was being ironic, because Odelia didn’t look pleased. But then Odelia got a great idea. She’s like that. Always coming up with great ideas. “Why don’t we get the sketch artist in here? She can work with Big Mac and whip us up some sketches?” When she saw the expression on her uncle’s face she reconsidered. “Though that would probably buy you a one-way ticket to that loony bin, right?”

“At the very least,” said Uncle Alec. “I’d probably be the laughingstock of the whole town, too, not to mention I’d lose my job and maybe even my pension.”

“So… why don’t I work with the sketch artist?” Odelia suggested next. “Big Mac could be sitting right next to me while I relay what he tells me to the artist. That way we’d skip any possible embarrassment or unwanted consequences.”

Alec looked doubtful. “You’d have to come forward as a witness. Which you can’t, as you were out on a date with Chase at the time this all went down.”

“I could do it,” said Gran. “I was there. And people think I’m nuts anyways.”

This solution to the problem seemed to please Uncle Alec. Whether it was the part about his mother being nuts or the crime-solving possibilities the scheme offered wasn’t entirely clear. “I like it,” he said. “In fact I like it a lot.” He turned to Big Mac. “Would you be willing to come in in the morning to work with our sketch artist, Big Mac?”

The big cat pondered this for a moment. “Do I get another pizza if I do?”

“Of course you do,” said Gran. “You can have as much pizza as you want, little man.”

I wondered how Uncle Alec was going to justify this sudden expenditure but I was pretty sure he’d find a way. Any police chief worth his salt is also a crafty bureaucrat.

The Chief scratched his scalp as he leaned back. “This is a first, people. Never in the history of law enforcement has a cat worked with the police to create a facial composite.”

“There’s got to be a first for everything,” said Gran philosophically.

“Amen to that,” said Odelia, who looked relieved that things were going to work out.

Just then, the door opened and Chase walked in, carrying a pizza box that simply smelled heavenly. I think we were all hungry, because the moment he set the box down on the desk, three pairs of human eyes and three pairs of cat’s eyes all turned a little misty.

Big Mac must have sensed what we were all thinking, for he said loudly, “Hey! That pizza is mine! All mine!”

And then that wonderful boyfriend of Odelia’s produced three more boxes of pizza from behind his back and said, “Ta-dah! I figured that after the night we’ve had we could all use a little pick-me-up, not just Mrs. Muffin.”

I swear to God. Never had I loved a human being more than at that moment.

Chase let himself drop down on his recliner in Chief Alec’s living room. Actually the room was living room, dining room and family room all in one. Being a widower, Alec didn’t need a lot of space. It was surprisingly neat, though, given the fact that it now housed two dudes. And that was what Chase wanted to talk to his boss, mentor and housemate about.

“Want a beer?” asked Alec from the kitchen as he rooted around in the fridge.

“Nah, thanks,” said Chase as he stared before him, going over the events of the evening. First his date with Odelia that had gotten off to such a good start, only to fizzle during dessert, just because some lowlife had decided taking Chris Ackerman’s wallet, phone, watch and money wasn’t enough—he had to take the poor sucker’s life, too.

Chase didn’t doubt for a second that they caught the right guy. So why the Chief would want Odelia’s grandmother to come in tomorrow to sit with the sketch artist he did not know. Tying up loose ends, probably. Creating a solid case against Sasha Drood. Then again, if Grandma Muffin had indeed seen Drood enter the library around the time of the murder, why did she need to work with a sketch artist? There were obviously wheels within wheels at work here, and he thought he saw the hidden hand of Odelia in all of this.

Whenever cats were involved, and weird stuff he couldn’t comprehend, usually Odelia was behind it. He didn’t mind. This was a small town, and small towns worked in strange and wonderful ways. Like the fact that the chief of police would allow his niece to give him a hand investigating a crime. You didn’t see that kind of thing back in New York.

Alec joined him and plunked his rotund frame into his own designated Barcalounger. The two recliners had been set up next to one another in front of the humongous flatscreen, like a matching pair. They practically looked like an old married couple, Chase thought.

“What a day,” said the police chief, blowing out a sigh, then taking a sip of beer.