by Nic Saint
“I think I hear something,” said Dooley as we approached.
“A rat probably,” I said, trepidation making me halt in my tracks. There are cats that eat rats. And then there’s me and Dooley. We don’t like rats. In fact rats scare me to death. They’re big, they’re mean, and they have some really sharp teeth. You get the picture.
“Who goes there?” suddenly a voice rose up from the dumpster’s innards.
“It’s a rat!” Dooley hissed. “Every cat for himself!” And he scooted off to hide underneath a parked Toyota Land Cruiser!
Suddenly a head appeared over the dumpster’s edge. I stared at the head. The head stared back at me. Clarice had been right. It was like looking in a mirror. The head belonged to a blorange cat with a gorgeous set of whiskers and a pink-colored little button of a nose.
“Hey, Big Mac,” I said, giving the cat a little wave.
“Hey, you,” he said, then blinked confusedly. He picked up a piece of burger and stared at it, then back at me. “Some joker put shrooms in my burger. I’m hallucinating.”
“No, you’re not. I’m really here,” I said. “My name is Max, and this…” I searched around for Dooley. “Um… Anyway. I’m here because Clarice sent me. You know Clarice, right?”
The big cat shivered visibly. “I wish I didn’t. She scares me.”
“She scares me, too.”
Big Mac jumped down from the dumpster without dropping the piece of burger, which made him a superhero in my book. He studied me intently for a few moments, while I studied him. He was a little pudgier, but otherwise he could have been my brother from another mother. Or maybe even from the same mother. I’m not big on genealogy, so I never bothered to create my family tree, but now might be a good time to correct the oversight.
“Was your mom—” I began.
“Was your mom—” he simultaneously said.
We both grinned awkwardly.
“Were you born—” I said.
“Were you born—” he said.
From behind us, suddenly Dooley’s voice rang out. “Oh. My. God. You guys look exactly the same!”
“Well, I’m a little slimmer,” I said.
“You look really fit,” said Big Mac. “Have you been working out?”
“Nah, not really,” I said. “I just try to watch what I eat.”
“He doesn’t,” said Dooley. “Odelia puts him on a diet from time to time, though.”
“Odelia? Is that your human?” asked Big Mac.
I nodded. “She’s great.”
“How long have you had her?”
“Straight from the litter,” I said.
“I don’t actually remember my mother,” said Big Mac, taking a tentative bite from the burger, then munching with enthusiasm when he failed to detect the taste of shrooms. “I mean, I know I had a mother, but my first memories are a little hazy. I remember I was with this old lady, but then she died, and I got transferred to her daughter, who didn’t like cats, and then she passed me on to her cousin, who liked cats so much she kept a dozen, which was pretty horrible.”
I nodded. Most cats hate other cats. Dooley and I are the exceptions to the rule, I guess. We genuinely like each other, and most other cats we meet. We’re weird that way.
Big Mac heaved a deep sigh as he delved deep into his recollection. “Lemme see, what happened next—Oh, that’s right. She got arrested for growing weed.” He spread his paws. “And that’s how I ended up here.”
“On the street,” I said, nodding. “Living from crumbs and scraps.”
He frowned. “Are you kidding? My human runs this McDonald’s. Feeds me all the burgers I want. He’s the weed woman’s brother and promised to look after us as long as his sister enjoys the hospitality of the Suffolk County penal system. Only problem is that since I live with him I’ve gained ten pounds. By the time Sissy gets released she won’t recognize me.” He devoured the final remnants of the burger and burped. “So what did Clarice want?”
“I don’t get it,” said Dooley. “If this man feeds you all the food you want, why are you—”
“Checking out this dumpster?” He shrugged. “Variety. You wouldn’t believe what people throw away. Once I found a container of perfectly good chicken nuggets in here.”
“But if you want chicken nuggets, why don’t you ask your human?” said Dooley.
Big Mac stared at him, then laughed. “Ask my human! As if he could understand a word I say! You’re funny, little guy.”
I decided not to mention that our human could understand us perfectly. It would probably boggle his mind. Not to mention he might think we were yanking his chain.
“Clarice actually sent us here because she thought you might be a witness to a murder,” I said, deciding to dispense with the chitchat and get down to brass tacks.
Big Mac’s eyes went wide as… Big Macs. “Murder!”
“Over at the Hampton Cove library. Were you by any chance hanging out there?”
“I was,” he said. “But I didn’t see no murder. Not a one.”
“It happened inside the library. Around eight o’clock-ish. Did you see anyone go in through the back entrance around that time?”
Big Mac thought hard, even sinking down on his haunches and puckering up his face. “Yeah,” he said finally. “In fact I saw several people go in. I didn’t pay them a lot of attention. Except for the pizza guy. I love pizza.” He licked his lips. “The one thing McDonald’s doesn’t have. Which is the reason I like to head into town of an evening. There’s a crazy tasty pizza joint right around the corner from the library. In fact there are two.”
“Could you… identify these people?” I asked. “I mean, if you saw them again, would you recognize them?”
“Sure. Why? Do you think one of them was a killer?”
I nodded, an idea forming in my head. “What do you say we take you downtown to look at some pictures? And when you’re through our human will buy you the biggest, juiciest, most delicious pizza you can imagine.”
He licked his lips. “You’ve got to be kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not kidding,” I said.
“He’s not kidding,” Dooley confirmed.
“Any pizza I want?”
“Any pizza you want.”
“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy,” he said, rubbing his tummy. “You really are my brother, aren’t you? And if you’re not, you must be Santa Claus and Christmas came early this year!”
Chapter 14
Odelia was convening with her uncle and Chase in Alec’s office. This was business as usual for them. The only difference was that this time Gran had joined them and was now lecturing her son on how to do his job.
“Didn’t I tell you to go home, Ma?” asked Uncle Alec wearily, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“You can’t keep a good sleuth down,” Gran insisted with a wink in Odelia’s direction.
“Oh, boy,” Chase muttered, earning himself a scowl from the old lady.
“I think he did it,” she said. “He’s got that guilty look.”
“I hate to agree with you, but I think for once you’re right,” said the Chief.
“For once? I’m always right,” said Gran.
Alec ignored her. “This guy has a rap sheet as long as my arm. He’s been arrested for stealing so many times it’s a miracle he’s still walking around a free man.”
“It’s a disease,” said Chase with a lopsided grin. “And as we all know prison doesn’t cure a man, only the attention of a fine medical man like Dr. Freggar does.”
“He probably made that up,” said Odelia. “I’ll bet this Dr. Freggar doesn’t exist.”
“Oh, he exists,” said Alec. “But that doesn’t mean our Mr. Drood isn’t a thief.”
“But is he also a murderer,” said Chase, rubbing his chin. “That’s the question.”
“I told you already,” said Gran. “He’s our guy! He did it! Now fry him in the chair!”
“It doesn’t work like that, M
a,” said Uncle Alec. “We just collect the evidence and collar the guy, then it’s up to the DA to decide if they’re going to prosecute or let him walk.”
“At the very least he’ll be charged with grand larceny,” said Chase.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” said Alec. “I think we have a pretty good case that Sasha Drood is our killer and that’s what I’ll tell the prosecutor in the morning.” He yawned cavernously. “And now I’d like to go home and get some sleep myself.”
“I think we can all use some sleep,” said Odelia, also yawning.
She glanced up and saw that Gran was still sitting, ramrod straight, staring at Uncle Alec, not a sign of tiredness on her lined face. Even her curly perm was still perfectly in place, not a white curl ruffled. “So when are you going to string him up?” she asked.
“Ma! We don’t string people up! This isn’t the Old West. People have rights.”
“This is a dangerous criminal we’re talking about, Alec. He killed once and he’ll kill again unless you remove him from society and give him the punishment he deserves.”
“Great,” Alec moaned. “My mother has turned into Dirty Harry.”
“At least Dirty Harry had the balls to do what was right.”
“Dirty Harry was a loose cannon, Ma. And he didn’t exist,” he added when Chase crooked an eyebrow at him.
“I liked his approach,” Gran insisted. “Him and Charles Bronson. They knew what they were doing. Nowadays cops are too soft. Letting gangsters like this Drood fella walk.”
“I’m not letting him walk!”
“You’re gonna.”
Odelia, who’d been following the conversation with half an ear, suddenly thought she was seeing things. On the windowsill an orange cat had just jumped up who looked a lot like Max. Then, as she watched, a second cat joined him, also orange and Max’s spitting image. But it was only when a third cat joined the fray that she realized she wasn’t dreaming, but that Max and Dooley were actually right there, and so was Max’s twin.
Max was gesturing with his paw, opening his mouth and saying stuff she couldn’t hear. It was obvious he wanted her to open the window and let them in. Problem was, Chase was sitting right next to the window, and he’d probably think it weird that she suddenly allowed three cats into Uncle Alec’s office.
Alec had noticed the cats, too, for he frowned at them, then seemed to come to the same conclusion Odelia had reached. He had no qualms about Chase thinking whatever he was going to think, though, for he said, “Chase. Open that window, will ya?”
Only now did Chase notice the three cats. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Being around Odelia he probably had gotten used to seeing cats wherever he went.
“Odelia,” said Max the moment the window opened, “this guy here saw the killer!”
Odelia couldn’t very well start talking feline in front of Chase, so she merely smiled when Max hopped down from the window and stalked over to her, rubbing himself against her leg. “His name is Big Mac. Don’t ask. It’s a long story. Literally. Anyway, I told him to come down here to look at some mugshots for you guys. And I promised he could get all the pizza he wanted if he did. That all right with you? He likes barbecue chicken pizza.”
Odelia thought for a moment. How was she going to handle this?
Gran, who was sitting right next to her, suddenly piped up, “Alec. Could you be a doll and order me some barbecue chicken pizza? I’m having one of them midnight cravings.”
Alec suppressed a smile. He knew the drill. “Chase, buddy? Do you mind?”
“On it,” said Chase, being a real trooper. He took out his phone.
“Could you go and get it yourself, though?” said Alec, exchanging a quick glance with Odelia.
Chase laughed. “You’re kidding, right? Domino’s delivers, dude.”
“I don’t like Domino’s,” said Gran, and Chase’s smile vanished.
“Yeah, she doesn’t like Domino’s,” Uncle Alec echoed. “She likes…”
“Giovannini’s,” said Gran promptly. “And Giovannini’s doesn’t do home delivery.”
Chase looked like he was going to say something, but one look at Gran’s implacable face taught him otherwise. He got up. “Just the pizza, Mrs. Muffin?” he asked.
“And a Diet Coke,” Gran nodded.
“If you’re going all out I wouldn’t mind some buffalo wings,” said Big Mac.
“And buffalo wings,” Gran added.
“And some creamy ranch chicken wings,” said Big Mac.
“And some creamy ranch chicken wings,” said Gran.
There was a momentary silence while Chase processed this. “That’s it?” he asked.
Gran looked at Max.
Max looked at Big Mac.
Big Mac shook his head.
Max shook his head.
Gran said, “That’s it, buckaroo. Off you go. Chop, chop.”
Chapter 15
When I was sure I had everyone’s attention, I launched into my explanation on how we met Big Mac and what contribution this new best friend of ours could make to the investigation. Odelia listened with rapt attention and so did Gran. Even Uncle Alec seemed to hang on my every word—even though he probably didn’t understand a thing I said.
When finally I was done, Odelia looked properly impressed.
“Great work, Max. So you really saw someone enter the library, Big Mac?”
Big Mac nodded. “Yes, I did, Miss Poole. In fact I saw several people enter that library.”
Odelia relayed this information to her uncle, who was even more impressed than Odelia and her grandmother. Not for the first time the cats had saved the day. I hoped.
“So how are we going to do this?” the Chief asked, rubbing those sideburns again. “I mean, your cat buddy claims he saw several people enter the premises. Can he describe them?”
“I was hoping he could look at some mugshots,” I said. “Isn’t that how it’s done?”
“Before we can have Big Mac look at mugshots we need to have some idea about who he saw,” said Odelia. “Otherwise we’ll be here all night.”
“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.”