Dooley was still eyeing the cat with undiminished fascination. “Can I…” He approached the cat. “Can I touch it?”

  “It? I’m a person, not a thing,” said the cat icily.

  “I know, but I’ve never seen a cat like you. What’s your name? Are you a he or a she?”

  “My name is Cleo,” said the cat, giving Dooley a nasty look, “and I’m a female, can’t you tell?”

  “Well, no, actually I can’t,” said Dooley. “You look like no cat I’ve ever seen. Does she look like any cat you’ve ever seen, Max?”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter, Dooley,” I said, “and frankly I think you’re getting on Cleo’s nerves, so let’s just tone it down a little, shall we?”

  “No, I like his candor,” said Cleo. “Most cats I meet act very snootily, figuring they need to make a big impression on me or something. So I find your honesty refreshing, cat. What are your names, by the way?”

  “Dooley,” said Dooley, “and this is my best friend Max.”

  “Well, nice to make your acquaintance, Dooley and Max,” said Cleo, losing some of her earlier frostiness. “So this person who got killed, what’s their name?”

  “Chickie Hay,” I said. “We’re trying to find out who killed her and why.”

  “Chickie is dead? Oh, that’s such a pity. My humans really liked her, and so did those next door.”

  “Charlie Dieber and Jamie Borowiak,” I said, nodding.

  “Wait, I thought your humans hated Chickie Hay?” said Dooley.

  “Yeah, that’s the information we got,” I said.

  “Not true. There was bad blood between them, sure, but that was all business related. As a person they liked her and admired her for the career she built. I liked her, too. Nice songs. Though to be honest I’m more of a jazz cat myself.”

  “Then you’ll like our human’s dad,” said Dooley. “He’s a musician and he plays jazz.”

  “What kind of jazz?” asked Cleo, her interest piqued.

  “Um…” I stared at Dooley and Dooley stared at me. “No idea, actually,” I said.

  “Big band, bebop, contemporary, free jazz, ragtime, Latin jazz?”

  “Is that all… music?” asked Dooley.

  “Types of jazz music, yeah.”

  “How come you know so much about this stuff?” I asked.

  “That’s what you get when you live with a true music fan,” said Cleo with a deferential little smile.

  “Laron likes jazz?” I asked.

  “Loves jazz. He plays a little jazz himself. So what kind of music are you guys into?”

  But unfortunately—or fortunately—our musical preference would remain a secret to Cleo, for the door to the room had suddenly opened and two men walked in. One was big and burly and the other thin and scrawny and as they stood illuminated against the backdrop of the hallway lights, I thought for a moment I’d seen them both before.

  “Hey, I think I’ve seen these guys before,” Dooley said, confirming my suspicions.

  Then again, in our line of work you meet so many people it’s hard to keep track.

  “More intruders,” said Cleo with a sad shake of the head.

  “Maybe they’re visitors, like us,” said Dooley as he watched the men close the door and enter the room. They were both carrying big empty gym bags.

  “Doubtful,” said Cleo. “They look like a bunch of crooks to me, and trust me, I know the difference. If humans are as rich as mine, a lot of people want to share in that wealth, usually without asking permission first.”

  “I’ll look in here,” said the skinny one. “You try the bedroom. And focus on high-value items only, Johnny. I’ll bet these rich bozos got plenty of gold and jewels lying around.”

  “Isn’t that rappers, though, Jer?” asked the one named Johnny. “Rappers like gold.”

  “Rappers, pop stars, who cares? They all love jewels and so do we.”

  “Gotcha, Jer,” said Johnny, and started rifling through one of the cabinets.

  “Looks like you’re right, Cleo,” I said. “I think these men are here to steal from your human.”

  “Of course I’m right.”

  “So what do we do now? We probably shouldn’t let this happen, right?”

  “No, we shouldn’t. Lucky for us the hotel has taken precautions for this type of contingency.” And with a deft trot she stalked over to the door, and placed her paw against what looked like a small metal plate. Moments later a deadbolt was shoved home in the door, something clattered down in front of the windows, and the room was suddenly flooded with pulsating red light, accompanied by a loud wailing siren.

  The crook named Jerry cursed loudly and started pulling at the door, which wouldn’t budge, then ran over to a connecting door, which offered the same resistance, and finally tried the window, only to discover that a steel shutter had slammed down to seal it off. There was no escape. He then resorted to pulling at his own hair. “Not again!” he cried.

  “I think we’re busted, Jer,” said Johnny, stomping in from the bedroom.

  “I know we’re busted, you idiot! Someone must have tripped the alarm!”

  “You didn’t tell me about no alarm, Jer.”

  “That’s because nobody told me about no danged alarm!”

  “So what do we do now, Jerry?”

  “Now we wait for the cops to show up.”

  “But I don’t want to wait for the cops to show up, Jerry! The cops will arrest us, and I don’t want to be arrested.”

  “Stay calm, Johnny!” yelled Jerry, not exactly the epitome of tranquility himself. “And when they arrive simply follow my lead. Tell ‘em you thought this was our room.”

  “Maybe we should tell ‘em the truth.”

  “No, Johnny. Don’t you dare. Repeat after me: I thought this was my room.”

  “Do you think they’ll believe us?”

  “Of course they’ll believe us! We just have to stick to our story, no matter what.”

  Johnny was sweating profusely now. “I’m a lousy liar, Jer. You know I am.”

  “Don’t you dare tell them the truth, Johnny. Just do as I say and we’ll be all right.”

  “Okay, Jer. We show them the key and tell ‘em we accidentally got the wrong room.”

  “Don’t show them the key!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because then they’ll know we got an accomplice!”

  “You mean the same accomplice who forgot to mention the alarm?”

  “Just stick to the story and we’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t know, Jer.”

  “Stick to the story!”

  “They don’t appear to be the smartest crooks in the business,” said Cleo.

  “Max! I think I know these guys,” suddenly said Dooley. “Aren’t they the same ones who tried to rob Odelia? And then you and me told Chase and Chase arrested them?”

  “Hey, I think you’re right, Dooley.”

  Moments later, the alarm stopped whining, and the door opened. The first one to burst through was Chase, quickly followed by Uncle Alec. Chase was holding up a gun. “Hands behind your heads! On your knees!” he yelled, and Johnny and Jerry promptly did as they were told.

  “I thought this was my room!” Johnny cried, eyes wide as he took in that big gun and the even bigger cop handling it.

  “We must have gotten the floors mixed,” Jerry said, producing a strained smile.

  “Well, well, well. If it ain’t Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale. So we meet again.”

  “Hi, Detective Kingsley,” said Johnny sheepishly. “You’re not going to arrest us, are you? I really thought this was our room,” he added like a well-trained parrot.

  “So where’s your key?” asked Uncle Alec.

  Johnny produced his key card, drawing a low hissing sound from his partner in crime. Uncle Alec took the card and studied it. “So who’s your accomplice?”

  Jerry and Johnny shared a look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief,” said Jerry. “We’re guests at this hotel and we thought this was our room. Can we help it if all these rooms look the same?” He laughed, but it sounded more like a horse neighing.

  “Yeah, can we help it if all the rooms in this hotel look the same?” asked Johnny, actually perking up now that he figured their ruse was working.

  “This is a very special key card,” said Uncle Alec, waving the card. “It’s called a master key. It allows access to all the rooms in the building. Only hotel personnel carry these. So how did you get hold of it?”

  “Receptionist must have made a mistake,” said Jerry with a shrug.

  “Yeah, the receptionist gave us this key,” said Johnny, lifting his massive shoulders.

  “Why are you both dressed in black, with rubber-soled shoes and rubber gloves?” asked Chase.

  “We like to dress in black,” said Jerry. “And we’re both germophobic.”

  “Yeah, we don’t like Germans,” said Johnny with a quick glance at Jerry.

  Uncle Alec had crouched down next to the gym bags and was rummaging through them. He brought out a flashlight, a drill, a hammer, a chisel, a Swiss knife, and a box full of weird-looking metal instruments. “And I’ll bet this is your luggage,” he said grimly.

  “We’re like the Boy Scouts of America,” Jerry declared solemnly. “Always prepared.”

  “Yeah, we take that stuff everywhere we go,” said Johnny. “You never know when you might need a hammer, or a pair of pliers.”

  “Look, I’ll make you a deal,” said Uncle Alec, getting up. “If you give us the name of your accomplice I’ll talk to the judge. Tell him you cooperated like two nice crooks. If not, I’ll throw the book at you, and you’re looking at extended jail time. So what do you say?”

  Jerry was already shaking his head, but Johnny’s eyebrows had shot up and he had a mournful expression on his face. It was the expression of a man about to spill his guts.

  “No, Johnny,” said Jerry, who’d noticed the same thing. “Don’t you do it.”

  “But, Jerry. I don’t want to go back to prison.”

  “No. Don’t you do it, Johnny. Don’t you dare.”

  “His name is Camillo Equius,” Johnny suddenly blurted out. “He told us Laron Weskit and his wife were staying here tonight, and that Dieber kid, and he gave us the key.”

  “Thanks, Johnny. You know the drill,” Uncle Alec said as he unclipped a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “You’re both under arrest. Anything you say—”

  “Johnny, you idiot!” said Jerry. “I told you to keep your big mouth shut!”

  “I’m sorry, Jer. But he made us a deal I couldn’t refuse!”

  “I’m never working with you again. You hear me! This partnership is over!”

  “It’s all for the best, Jer,” said Johnny as both men were led out by Chase. “The Chief is a good man. He’ll keep up his end of the bargain. I know he will. Isn’t that right, Chief?”

  “Never! I’m never working with you again! Never, never, never!”

  Laron Weskit and his wife, who apparently had been waiting right outside, now entered the room. “So?” said Laron. “What did they take?”

  “Nothing,” said Uncle Alec. “We got here just in time.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Laron, planting his hands on his hips. “I didn’t switch on the alarm, because Cleo is here and she might accidentally trip it.”

  “I think Cleo is the one who tripped it, sir,” said Alec, gesturing to the hairless cat.

  Laron’s eyebrows shot up. “My cat tripped the alarm? That’s impossible.”

  “You’d be surprised how clever cats can be, sir,” said Uncle Alec as he gave me and Dooley a wink.

  I tried to wink back but found it a little hard. It’s one of those things you have to practice first.

  Shannon Weskit bent over and picked Cleo up in her arms. “Did you save us, Cleo, darling? Did you? You’re a regular hero, aren’t you? You’re a real wonder cat.”

  “I don’t believe it,” said Laron, shaking his head. “There has to be some other explanation. Cats don’t trigger alarms. That’s dogs.”

  “Cats are smart,” said his wife, who obviously was more of a cat person than her husband.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Laron, and started doing the rounds of the suite to see for himself if nothing had been taken.

  Just then, the connecting door flew open and Charlie Dieber and Jamie burst in. “Did they take anything?” asked Charlie anxiously.

  “Not that I can see,” said Laron.

  “Cleo sounded the alarm,” said Shannon. “Isn’t she a clever little puss? Yes, you are, Cleo. Yes, you are.”

  “So weird,” said Charlie, who looked like a teenager, but a teenager with tattoos running up and down his arms. “There’s two cats in our room that weren’t there before. And I have no idea how they got there.”

  And as if to lend credence to his words, Harriet and Brutus walked in!

  “Hey, isn’t that the cats that sang at the show?” asked Jamie, a petite young woman with long dark hair and a serious look on her face.

  “They sure look like them,” said Laron.

  “But how did they get into our room?” asked Charlie.

  “Maybe they’re with the burglars,” said Jamie.

  Just then, Laron’s eyes fell on Dooley and me. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said as he scratched his head. “Look. More cats. Where did they come from?”

  Oops. Busted!

  24

  A family meeting had been called and we were part of the agenda.

  “Odelia doesn’t look happy,” said Dooley.

  “No, she doesn’t look happy at all,” Brutus agreed.

  We were in the living room of Marge and Tex’s home, and all the humans had gathered for this occasion: Uncle Alec was there, and Chase, and Odelia, of course, and Marge and Tex and Gran. The feline members of the family had been relegated to the floor, where we now sat like four defendants about to be subjected to cross-examination.

  “Maybe we need to ask for a lawyer,” said Dooley.

  He was right, and I was already looking around for the Bible on which we’d soon have to swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth.

  “We didn’t even have time to go through that room,” said Harriet. “The moment we got in, this loud alarm started blaring, and soon after, Charlie and Jamie burst in.”

  “How did you get into their room?” I asked.

  “Odelia had given us key cards,” said Brutus.

  “Same thing here,” I said. “Very clever, too.”

  “Very clever, if only those crooks hadn’t chosen that exact moment to break in.”

  “Okay, let’s begin,” said Uncle Alec. “First off, Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale are back where they belong: in jail. Johnny cracked first, and confessed. We also arrested Camillo Aquius, one of the receptionists and apparently in cahoots with the crooks, in exchange for a percentage of the loot, who provided them with information and a master key.”

  “What they hadn’t counted on was the presence of Cleo,” said Chase. “Who managed to sound the alarm, and make sure a happy ending was had by all.”

  Except Johnny and Jerry, obviously.

  “Speaking of happy endings, did you guys manage to find out anything?” asked Odelia. She’d directed these words at us, and they were definitely better than ‘Do you have anything to say for yourselves?’

  I cleared my throat. “According to Cleo, Laron and his wife respected Chickie a lot, and thought she was an amazing and talented person. They had some business disagreements but that wasn’t all that important, at least according to her. All in all, she gave me the impression that Laron would never harm a hair on Chickie’s head.”

  “What is he saying?” asked Chase with a smile.

  Odelia quickly translated my words for the non-feline speakers in the room, and Uncle Alec nodded. “It doesn’t mean much, but at least it says something about motive.”

  “So where are we on the investigation?” asked Odelia, directing a quizzical look at her uncle and boyfriend.

  “Nowhere, that’s where we are,” said Uncle Alec.

  “Plenty of suspects but nothing conclusive,” Chase agreed.

  “So we need to keep digging,” said Odelia. “We need to keep talking to people, asking all the right questions.”

  “I talked to the Mayor at the party tonight,” said Uncle Alec, “and he said that if we don’t crack this case soon, he’ll be compelled to bring in the state police.”

  “Who’ll take over the investigation and sink our reputations,” Chase said somberly.

  “State police or not, I’m not going to stop digging until I find something,” said Odelia.

  All eyes suddenly turned to us, and Brutus muttered, “This is it. Get ready for a kicking, you guys.”

  But instead of a kicking, Odelia gave us a heartfelt smile. “I think it’s fair to say that the only ones who’ve managed to get anywhere in this case are Max, Dooley, Brutus and Harriet. You’ve figured out the best clues, and you’ve talked to the only witnesses who were actually able to tell you something. In fact I would love to suggest to the Mayor not to call in the state police but to deputize the four of you instead.”

  Marge laughed. “I’d love to be there when you have that conversation.”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Uncle Alec, who didn’t seem overly excited at the prospect of welcoming four cats into his squad.

  “I’m just kidding, of course,” said Odelia, “though not about your achievements. So I would like to thank you, and I would like to tell you to keep up the good work.” And then she turned to her grandmother. “And now for the real reason we are all gathered here. Gran, I think it’s time you and Dad buried the hatchet. You’ve been at each other’s throats for too long and it’s starting to affect the way the community views this family.”

  “They think we’re all nuts,” said Marge. “We’re the laughingstock of this town.”

  “I think that’s an excellent suggestion,” said Gran. “And I’m very happy that you’ve finally decided to apologize, Tex.” A set look had come over her face. “Well? I’m waiting.”