Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Crime

“Psssst!” I said, giving Dooley a slight nudge.

“Hrrrmmbl…” he said in response, and just kept on sleeping.

“Dooley! Wake up!”

The beige cat opened one eye and then closed it again. “Hmmmmmm.”

So I hopped up onto the bed—conveniently a lot lower than Odelia’s—and kicked him off. I watched in wonder to see if he would magically right himself in midair and hit the floor on all fours. Unfortunately for Dooley he hit the floor with his head instead. It made a nice thunking sound as it did. Hollow. Just as I’d expected.

“What’s going on?” Dooley asked as he rubbed the point of impact.

“I’m going foraging,” I told him. “And I need my wingcat.”

He stared at me. “I can’t, Max. My head hurts for some reason.”

“Your head is fine. Let’s go.”

He rubbed the spot for a few beats more, obviously wondering what had happened, then decided to follow me out. “I was dreaming of Harriet,” he said. “She told me to use my dildo to reach her G-spot so I did, but then Brutus showed up and burned me with his V-steamer.”

“You shouldn’t read that kind of stuff before bed, Dooley. You should do like me and dream of steaks and prime ribs and sausages and meatballs and beef tenderloin and…” Well, you get the picture.

We left the house and set out for the great outdoors. I had no idea where we were going but I knew it had to be someplace where we would find food. Lots of food. Any food.

“Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley after a while.

“Where they have food,” I told him.

“And where is that?”

I thought hard, which was difficult as I was so hungry my mental capacity had become impaired. Honestly, how Odelia expected me to catch killers on an empty stomach was beyond me. And then I got it. “Why don’t we go check out Donna Bruce’s place?”

“Do you think they’ll have food there?”

“Well, they have those two mutts. And where there are mutts, there is always food.”

That’s one of those immutable facts of life, and one you would do well to remember. I know I do. Even at my most feeble, like now, when my survival instincts were kicking in, I still remembered that humans love dogs—even more than they love cats—and always make sure they’re well fed. What most humans don’t know is that cats can also eat dog food, especially when they’re on the verge of dying of starvation, like I was now.

“I don’t know, Max,” said Dooley. “Those dogs weren’t very nice to us the last time.”

“They’ll be fast asleep by now,” I promised him. “We’ll just sneak in and out. They won’t even know we were there.”

Dooley sighed. “Good thing you’re my best friend, Max. I would never do this for Brutus.”

“Do what?”

“Risk life and limb to get you some dog biscuits.”

I gave him a warm smile. “I know, Dooley. And I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“I would do it for Harriet,” he continued musingly. “But only if she asked me. Once upon a time I would have done it without asking, but those days are definitely over.”

“Wow. Love doesn’t live there anymore, huh?”

“Where?” he asked, puzzled.

“It’s an expression. It means you’ve stopped loving Harriet.”

“I never loved Harriet,” he said annoyedly. “I liked Harriet a lot. There’s a difference.”

“Of course there is.”

We were trotting along the main road, cars passing us by, making great time, and I was actually starting to perk up a little. The prospect of digging into Rex and Rollo’s bowls and fishing out the best bits almost made me feel giddy. A woman like Donna, rich beyond compare, probably spent a fortune on dog food, reserving only the best and most expensive stuff for her beloved mutts. I just hoped they hadn’t eaten all of it.

“Do you think Harriet will ever break up with Brutus?” asked Dooley.

“Why? I thought you only ‘liked’ her?”

“I do. That’s why I feel it’s my duty to look out for her. And I don’t think Brutus is right for her, Max. I really don’t.”

“I think he is. Those two deserve each other,” I said. And if I sounded bitter that’s because I was. Harriet was trying to steal my thunder. Presenting herself as the prime sleuth in the Poole household. Well, I wasn’t having it. There was only one prime sleuth and that was me. At least when I was properly fed and my brain was working at full capacity.

“Brutus has changed,” Dooley admitted, still harping on the same theme. “He’s become more sedate. Less of a bully.”

“I told you. He’s henpecked now. Domesticated. He won’t give us any more trouble.”

“Do you really believe that, Max?”

“Yes, I do.” No, I didn’t. Bullies like Brutus never really change. Though we had reached some kind of understanding lately. A détente, like the US and the USSR had in Cold War days.

“Tell me something, Max.”

I grunted, hoping he’d finally change the subject. All this talk of Harriet and Brutus was getting on my nerves. “What?”

“When Harriet kissed you, what did it feel like?”

“Wet.”

“Did you feel butterflies fluttering around in your tummy? A choir of angels singing in the sky? The scent of blossoms filling your nostrils? A feeling that all was well with the world?”

“I felt an urge to slap her, if that’s what you mean.”

He gave me a dark scowl. Obviously that wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for.

Lucky for me we’d finally reached the Donna Bruce place. All was dark, which was a good sign. I just hoped Rex and Rollo would prove as dumb as they looked and wouldn’t chase two innocent cats trying to steal their food after hours. We approached with stealth and bated breath, and walked around the back, just like that morning. The pool area was deserted, and there was no sign of the two hyped-up poodles.

“Looks promising,” I whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Dooley whispered back.

Some questions are just too dumb to dignify with a response so I didn’t respond. Instead, I padded up to the back door but found it locked. Obviously. And thus the tedious task of finding an access point began. I finally found a ground floor window that was ajar and attempted to get in that way. Unfortunately, because of my big bones, I didn’t fit. So I told Dooley to give it a try. It was a tight fit but he managed. Once he was inside, he whispered, “What do I do now?”

“Now you go in search of food and bring it to me,” I instructed my feeble-minded friend.

He gave me two claws up and disappeared from sight. I waited patiently for his return, all the while trying to ignore my rumbling stomach. I’d never known hunger before, and now I understood what all the hungry animals in the world must experience on a daily basis. It wasn’t a lot of fun.

And I’d just wandered off in the direction of the pool, when I caught movement inside the house. I walked up to the glass doors and peeked inside. One of the many advantages us felines have over humans is that we can see in the dark. And what I saw in the dark was… Donna Bruce!

I staggered back in shock and horror. What the... After gathering my courage, I approached the window once more. And sure enough, Donna Bruce was walking around inside, dressed in a white nightgown, carrying some kind of smoking contraption in her hands and flitting to and fro as she waved the smoky thing along the walls, moved it past the furniture, and generally seemed to be performing some kind of strange ritual.

I’d never seen a dead person walking around before, so I had my face glued to the glass all the while. Now that I was over my first reaction of fear, the phenomenon was kinda fascinating. So this was what a ghost looked like, huh? Cool!