by Nic Saint
“Oh, nothing much,” I said. “Just that Lil Thug’s killer was caught today.”
“He was? And who was it?”
“The rapper’s assistant,” I said as we both watched how Odelia changed into a pair of white jeans and a nice pink blouse, while Chase decided to don the cowboy hat he bought yesterday, making him look like a cowboy, complete with cowboy boots and a plaid shirt. They made a very handsome-looking couple, I had to say, and a twinge of pride expanded my bosom as I watched them enjoy themselves like a couple of kids.
“Lil Thug had an assistant?”
“Apparently. And probably more than one, too. And this assistant was caught this afternoon trying to sell off some items of value she’d stolen from her employer.”
“Oh, the bad person,” said Dooley, who has a very strong sense of justice. “That’s not very nice of her, is it, Max?”
“No, it most definitely isn’t,” I agreed.
“At least she got her earring back. She must have been worried when she lost it.”
I glanced at Odelia, wondering whether I should ask her about the earring, but clearly she’d lost interest in the case, so I decided not to bother.
“I’m happy the killer was caught,” said Dooley. “Now Odelia and Chase can enjoy their honeymoon the way they’re supposed to.”
“Exactly.”
“I like a happy ending, Max.”
“Me, too.”
“So now what happens?”
“Now we join Odelia and Chase on deck for dinner. And then we return here for another refreshing nap.”
“And tomorrow?”
“More of the same. Odelia and Chase will visit some town, and we’ll stay here. Then the next day the same thing happens, and the next, and the next, until the trip is over.”
Dooley studied me carefully. “Do you also feel like this cruise is a little monotonous?”
“Yes, I do, Dooley. That’s what cruises are all about: the monotony lulls you into a sense of peace and calm. It soothes and relaxes, and by the time you’re ready to go back to your regular life, you’re feeling completely refreshed and relaxed. It’s called a holiday.”
“Boredom makes me feel stressed, though, Max. It doesn’t make me feel refreshed.”
I sighed deeply. “You know what, Dooley? I feel exactly the same way.” Then again, cruises probably weren’t designed for pets. If they were, they’d have special playrooms for pets, and hair salons for pets, and places where pets can gather and shoot the breeze. As it was, this ship had none of that. It had plenty of swimming pools, and restaurants, and shops and spas, a movie theater, shuffleboard and even a surf simulator, but no pet paraphernalia.
And now even this murder business had been resolved without us having had even the slightest bit of input.
Very disconcerting, I must admit.
But then it was time to head on out and enjoy a nice dinner.
I just hoped we wouldn’t run into Jack and Frank again.
18
Breakfast was a laid-back affair. Everyone was happy that Lil Thug’s killer had been caught, and everyone expressed surprise over how easy the assistant had allowed herself to be nabbed by the local police.
“She wasn’t a very clever killer, was she, Max?” said Salvatore, who’d once again joined us for breakfast.
“No, apparently she wasn’t,” I said. I still had my reservations about the outcome of the investigation, but had decided to keep them to myself. No need to trouble other people with that kind of stuff—or other pets.
“I think it’s a good thing,” said Salvatore as he intently studied a piece of broccoli that had rolled between his paws. “This murder business was hanging like a pall over this trip. I can tell you right now that David suffered a nightmare last night. He woke up screaming, which just goes to show that all of us being under investigation was a terrible burden to bear.”
Salvatore had finally decided that the broccoli wasn’t worth his attention and had cast it aside with a flick of his paw. “Did you have a list of suspects, Max?” he said. “Pray tell, who was on that list?”
“The assistant, for one,” said Dooley. “Wasn’t she number one on your list, Max?” He turned to Salvatore. “Max is Hampton Cove’s number-one sleuth. He’s solved so many crimes he’s lost count.”
“Thanks, Dooley,” I said. “I merely try to help out my human,” I added modestly when the small Maltese gave me a look of interest. “She’s the real sleuth in this family. I’m just her humble assistant.”
“So the assistant?” Salvatore insisted. “Was she number one on your list, Max?”
“No, in fact she wasn’t on my list at all. I didn’t even know Mr. Thug had an assistant until she was caught trying to sell her employer’s collection of expensive snuff boxes.”
“So who was on your list?”
“Well, the influencers, of course,” I said. “Both in urgent need of an influx of cash, and desperate not to have to return to their day jobs and leave this nomadic life of luxury and five-star hotels behind. And then there was Ruby Kettering, though I’ve since taken her off my list. I very much doubt a girl of her young age would go so far as to murder one of the victims of her kleptomaniac attacks in cold blood. Besides, kleptomaniacs always go for the easy mark, and cutting a diamond from a man’s face doesn’t seem to fit the bill.”
“So yes to the influencers and no to Ruby Kettering,” said Salvatore, who was keeping score. “Who else?”
“Well…” I cut a quick glance to the humans gathered around the breakfast table along with Odelia and Chase, who were now swapping stories and pictures of the trip to Kingstown yesterday.
“You didn’t think my humans had anything to do with this crime, did you?” said Salvatore, sounding a little indignant.
“I did for a brief moment, yes,” I admitted. “Bertha loves to go on cruises, but her financial situation wouldn’t allow her, so conceivably David could have decided to find a permanent solution. Twenty million buys you a lot of cruises, Salvatore.”
“David would never do that. He’s a good person, Max.”
“Even good people have been known to commit crimes, Salvatore.”
“But I can vouch for him.”
“You told us you could only vouch for Laura.”
“What I mean is, I can vouch for his character. The man is beyond reproach.”
“If it turned out David was the killer, Salvatore could have acted as a character witness,” Dooley suggested. “To get a lesser sentence,” he explained for Salvatore’s sake.
“Well, that’s all moot now,” I said, not wanting to point out the obvious: that there are probably very few judges who’d allow a dog to act as a character witness in their courtroom. “The killer was caught. Case closed.”
“So what are your plans for today, Salvatore?” asked Dooley.
“Just toddle along, I guess,” said the tiny ball of fluff as he studied a piece of bread that had dropped down from the heavens. Once again he decided it wasn’t worth his attention, and discarded it with a deft flick of the wrist.
“You join your humans everywhere they go?” I asked.
“Sure. That’s what I’m here for: provide comfort and company to my precious humans. Sacred task of every dog. I took an oath the day I was adopted to that effect.”
I studied the tiny doggie. “Your humans are lucky to have you, Salvatore,” I said.
“You’re a very faithful companion,” said Dooley. “Max and I never go anywhere with Odelia. We hate walking around all day,” he explained when Salvatore raised a questioning eyebrow. “Our paws get worn out, and besides, we get really tired.”
“I like to walk,” Salvatore announced.
“I guess that’s the difference between cats and dogs,” I said. “Dogs love nothing better than to join their humans everywhere, whereas cats like to be left alone to do their thing.”
“And what is this thing that you do when you’re left alone?” asked Salvatore curiously.
“Sleep?” asked Salvatore.
“Yeah, doze, nap, snooze. It’s what we do best. Isn’t that right, Max?”
“Yeah. We’re experts at sleeping,” I admitted, a little sheepishly, for Salvatore was staring at us as if we’d both lost our minds.
“I’d be bored stiff if I slept all day,” he confessed. “Don’t you ever get bored?”
“Walking is boring,” said Dooley. “Sleeping is fun.”
Salvatore shook his head. “Cats,” he said, then seemed to remember we were right there, and quickly added, “are fascinating creatures.”
Which of course is just another way of saying cats are weird.
A piece of chicken filet dropped down between Salvatore’s paws now, and this time he gobbled it up without delay. And when both Dooley and I uttered soft mewling sounds, to let our humans know that we were still there, and getting peckish, pieces of chicken rolled down between our paws, too, and we munched them down with relish.
So cats and dogs may differ in many respects, but at least we have one thing in common: we like to eat—and we’re very particular about what we eat, too.
Breakfast over, the entire company went for a walk on the upper deck, which was more peaceful and less congested than the others, on account of the fact that it was a little windier up there.
Odelia and Laura had struck up a firm friendship, and were walking side by side, chatting animatedly, and Chase had found a friend in David, and was explaining some of the ins and outs of what it took to be a cop in a small town. Bertha was hugging Salvatore close, while being pushed by Adele, and Dooley and I hung back and enjoyed the breeze ruffling our fur. The sun was slowly hoisting itself into position, and it promised to be another scorcher of a day, which made me thankful once again that our cabin had a well-functioning air-conditioning unit.
We moved over to the railing and glanced out across the ocean, which was vast and blue with tiny ripples of white foam as the waves crested and rolled. In the distance we could see the next island where we were destined, and where our humans would disembark for another day filled with fun and shopping.
“You know? I could actually get used to this life, Max,” said Dooley.
“What life, Dooley?” I asked, as I squinted against the sun which was already aiming for its zenith.
“Well, relaxing, lazing about, enjoying this time spent with our friends and family. All that’s missing is Gran and Marge and Tex and Uncle Alec, and of course Harriet and Brutus. Maybe we could convince them to go cruising with us, and we could do this year round, like Bertha used to do.”
“To go cruising year round someone has to pay year round for all that cruising,” I pointed out.
“But maybe we could all become influencers, and people would actually pay us for our social media posts.”
“I doubt it, Dooley,” I said. “I doubt whether anyone would be interested enough to pay for that kind of thing. We’re suffering influencer inflation right now, you see. Where there were few, now there are many, and all of them want other people to pay so they can keep spending time in Dubai, or on cruise ships, or tropical destinations.”
“But we have something that none of them have.”
“And what’s that?”
“Us! You and me and Harriet and Brutus. Don’t you think people would pay good money to see Odelia talk to us and have fun with us?”
“I think people would probably put her in a hospital under observation if the truth got out,” I said. “Besides, how would that work, exactly?”
“Subtitles!” said Dooley triumphantly. “Odelia or Marge or Gran could shoot their videos with us, talking about this or that, you know, and they could add subtitles!”
“Oh, Dooley,” I said with a smile. I turned my back on him to take a look at a seagull that was scooping down to catch a fish. “Look, people might pay good money for that kind of thing, but it would make Odelia’s life very difficult. Besides, I don’t think she wants to live her life aboard a cruise ship. She likes her life just the way it is.” I turned, and when I discovered that Dooley wasn’t there, I frowned.
“Max!” suddenly my friend yelled. “Help!”
I looked up, and there he was: being carried away by one of those seagulls! It was Frank, and he’d snapped Dooley up in his claws and was soaring, his wings beating hard.
“Help me!” Dooley screamed.
“Scratch him, Dooley!” I yelled back. “Use your claws!”
Just then, Jack swept down on me, and dug his claws into my neck and tried to pick me up, same way his friend had picked up Dooley. Only I must have weighed too much, for he couldn’t lift me from the deck.
“Damn, you’re heavier than I thought, you big orange fatty!” said Jack.
“I’m blorange, you stupid bird!” I cried, and gave him a terrific swipe across the beak. “And I’m not fat—I’m big-boned!”
Immediately the vicious seagull backed off, and took flight again.
Meanwhile, Dooley had taken my advice, and was clawing for all he was worth. Frank cried out in pain when one of Dooley’s attempts hit a tender spot on his belly, and he promptly dropped my friend… straight into the ocean!
“Odelia, help!” I screamed, as I watched Dooley being dunked into the drink. Unlike me, he never learned how to swim, and I could see he was sinking like the proverbial stone the moment he hit the water. “Odelia!”
Odelia came running. “Where is he?” she asked. She must have seen what happened.
“Down there,” I said, pointing to where Dooley had gone in.
“I’ll get one of the crew members,” she said, and hurried off again.
This was going to take too long, I just knew it.
And so I did the only thing possible: I jumped in after my friend.
19
The water was surprisingly chilly. Still, I didn’t have a lot of time to think about this, for I had but one purpose in mind: to save my friend from drowning!
So I thrashed around a bit to get my bearings, then decided to take a dive and disappeared into the waves, for that’s where Dooley was presumably hanging out at this moment.
I remember he’d expounded on the fact that most animals naturally possess the capacity to stay afloat when thrown into a body of water, with as one exception the human being. Cats, however, should be able to swim when left to their own devices, and soon this theory proved correct, for the moment I resurfaced, I detected the bobbing head of my friend, only a few feet from where I myself was bobbing up and down, making heroic efforts to remember the lessons Fifi, our neighboring Yorkie, had taught me once upon a not so long ago.
“Dooley!” I bellowed.
“Max!” Dooley returned. “Look! I can swim!”
“Yes, you can!”
I made a concerted effort to join him posthaste, and soon we were bobbing up and down together, and glancing up at the Queen of the Seas, steaming ever onward without a care in the world, oblivious to the fact that two of its passengers had gone overboard.
“Man overboard!” suddenly a voice rang out some fifteen stories higher, and next thing we knew, a loud alarm blared.
“I think that’s us,” I told Dooley.
“Shouldn’t it be ‘cat overboard?’”
“Let’s not get too nitpicky. We should be glad they’re coming to pick us up at all.”
“Sure,” he said, then cast a grateful look in my direction. “Thanks for jumping in, Max. It’s much nicer to be in trouble together.”
“Oh, well,” I said. “You would have done the same.”
“Yes, I would” he agreed. “But still. It’s very noble of you.”
“You’re my best friend, Dooley. What else am I going to do when some horrible bird grabs you by the neck and throws you in the ocean?”
“Those birds are really horrible, aren’t they?”
“Extremely horrible,” I agreed. “Did you know the other one tried to pick me up, too?”
“A
nd what did you do? Fight him off?”
“He couldn’t lift me. Said I was too heavy.”
“Maybe I should get as big as you, Max. That way no bird would be able to grab me.”
“That’s all right, Dooley. From now on we just need to be more vigilant, and make sure those seagulls don’t come anywhere near us again.”
“I clawed him right across the stomach. He squawked and then dropped me.”
“Good. He got exactly what he deserved.”
A small boat had been lowered into the water, and the big boat—the mother ship as it were—had stopped sailing onward. In fact it was turning back around. Big boats like the Queen of the Seas presumably can’t back up like a car can. The small boat was heading in our direction, and I saw that two men were occupying the little thing, as it sped ever closer, powered by a powerful engine, and causing the water to spray around in its wake.
“Here they come, Dooley,” I said. “Get ready to be saved.”
“It’s so nice that someone actually cares, Max,” said Dooley, who was getting a little emotional. “They could have simply decided not to bother and sailed on and left us here to—”
“Don’t you say it, Dooley,” I warned him.
“—swim on indefinitely.”
“Odelia would never allow that to happen. And neither would Chase. Those two love us very much, and they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if they’d allowed us to… swim on indefinitely.”
The boat had finally reached us, and the two men looked a little surprised.
“Cats?” asked one of the men, who was wearing a bright orange life jacket. “They stopped the boat to save a couple of cats?”
“Looks like it,” the other man grunted, then effortlessly scooped both myself and Dooley from the not-so-raging waters of the Atlantic and placed us on the floor of the boat. Then he proceeded to place a towel over us and started rubbing us dry. Probably standard procedure.
The treatment was very pleasant. Under normal circumstances I hate being toweled off, but this was different. This signaled the end of our ordeal, and so when the man finally finished the procedure, and wrapped me in a second towel, I gave his hand a grateful lick. Dooley, who’d undergone the same treatment from our other savior, showed his gratitude by giving the man’s hand a gentle nudge. Both men smiled and shared a look of satisfaction. They might not have saved a fellow human’s life, but they’d saved two pets, which was something, after all.