Cat In An Alphabet Endgame

Tailpiece

Midnight Louie Sums up

I so hate doing math, even though I have many more toes to do it on than most people.

Sixteen toes and sixteen shivs, which is the number four squared, which is fifteen more razors on my person than “Big Bad Leroy Brown” had in his shoe. No wonder I am such a successful, and respected, private investigator. They do not call one variety of cactus “Cat Claw” for nothing.

Yet, no matter how tough a guy is there are some things he cannot say, or change.

I have come to a sad parting. My days as an “alphacat”, as depicted in this sequence of twenty-eight mystery novels, are over.

Be warned, though. I am still an Alpha Cat in capital letters, and have not hung up my snap-brim fedora for good. That is a metaphor, folks. It means I still do not like wearing human hats unless very well paid. And it looks like I will be with my new TV commercial contract.

I have had quite a time shepherding my human crew on their way to a reasonably happy ending, or a dead end, in the case of the bad and the murderous. And they say cats are hard to herd.

I am expecting to see all of my friends and acquaintances around Las Vegas in the future, as you may do if you pay a visit to Chez Louie again.

Farewells should be short, but sweet.

I am short, but not sweet.

And that is one thing that will never change.

Very Best Fishes,

Midnight Louie, Esq.

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