Purrfect Alibi (3)

Chapter 39

Not for the first time I decided to engage cat choir in my sleuthing efforts. So Dooley and I—along with Brutus and Harriet—headed down to the park to enlist our friends in the scheme I’d worked out while driving home from Vena’s. As I’d expected, they were all game, and so the search began. I just hoped that not too much time had passed since the fateful events at the library. By now two whole days had passed, and Hampton Cove’s council had strict rules about garbage collection so our window of opportunity just might have closed.

Dooley and I had decided to search in the immediate vicinity of the library, while the other cat choir members looked along ever-widening circles. If my hunch was right, before this night was through we should be able to come up with something.

Brutus, who seemed reborn after Vena’s diagnosis, was our most enthusiastic searcher, along with Harriet, who, in spite of her initial grumblings, was happy as a clam.

“So you think Brutus will be all right?” asked Dooley as he tentatively checked the dumpster closest to the library.

“I think Brutus will be just fine,” I returned. “Especially with Vena’s treatment.”

“You know? I’m starting to think that Vena may not be our enemy, Max.”

I’d been thinking the same thing. Our visit had been distinctly painless and even—to some extent—enjoyable.

“Maybe she’s not out to hurt us,” Dooley continued.

“Only the future will tell,” I said, jumping down from the dumpster. I didn’t enjoy this consequence of my crazy theory. And if I was wrong a lot of cats were going to hate my guts.

Dooley had caught on, too. “What if we don’t find anything, Max?”

“Then we’ll probably get kicked out of cat choir.” Again.

“I don’t mind. You’re my friend and I will always stand by you,” said Dooley.

The unexpected statement gave me pause. “Aw, Dooley. You’re my friend, too.”

“You know—when the apocalypse finally comes, I hope we won’t be ripped apart by the tsunami’s massive waves and terrifying mayhem. Or by the hot lava that will push up through the earth’s cracked crust. When finally the end comes, I hope we’ll die in a blaze of fire and destruction together. Wouldn’t that be just great?”

Great wasn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Dooley’s predictions. I decided to try one more time to change his mind. “Look, the apocalypse may never happen, Dooley.”

“Oh, I know,” he said to my surprise. “But you don’t really believe that, do you?”

“Actually, I do. I think everything is going to be just fine, buddy.”

Dooley smiled. “Oh, Max, I love you but you’re so naive. You believe everything you see on the internet. All these disinformation campaigns. All that fake news. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad. No, you have to start checking out some of this real news. Like the fact that a comet is on its way to earth right now and will hit us in exactly three days.”

I shook my head. Absolutely hopeless. Just like our search in Hampton Cove’s dumpsters. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. And now Shanille would be upset that she’d skipped a cat choir rehearsal to prove my crazy theory.

Just then, a familiar cat trotted up to us. It was Clarice.

“Dumpster-diving, Max?” she asked.

“Um, not exactly,” I said.

She directed an icy look at me. “You do know that this is my territory, right?”

“I… thought this was Big Mac’s domain?”

“Not exactly. I allow Big Mac to scavenge here. First he asked me for permission, though—and agreed to pay me my usual fee. Fifty percent.”

“Fifty percent…”

“Of his haul.”

“We’re not looking for food,” said Dooley. “We’re looking for clues!”

Clarice narrowed her eyes. “Clues.”

“We could give you fifty percent of our clues,” Dooley suggested, “but first we have to give our clues to the police. They’re going to need them to put the bad guys away, see?”

Clarice didn’t appear particularly interested in fifty percent of our clues, though. She made a dismissive sound. “You can keep your clues, city slicker.”

“You could help us,” I said as she started to walk away.

She threw me a skeptical look over her shoulder. “Me? Help you?”

“There’s fresh pizza in it for you,” said Dooley. “Barbecue chicken pizza.”

Her upper lip rose in a snarl. “Do I look like the kind of cat who eats junk food?”

To be honest she looked like a cat who gobbled down rats and other vermin whole.

“We can get you anything you like,” I said, sweetening the deal. “Anything at all.”

“I already have everything I like.” She gestured around. “All the food I need. Fresh air. My freedom. So what could you possibly offer that I’d be even remotely interested in?”

“How about your own bowl, your own cat bed, your own nook in our house?”

Clarice eyed me suspiciously. “Your human already offered me free passage into your home. To come and go as I please. Unlimited access to her food supply.”

“Yes, but now you would get your very own space in your very own home.”

It was a grand offer, but I wasn’t at all sure she would go for it. Then again, Clarice was an unpredictable cat, so there was no way to know how she would react.

Finally, that inscrutable expression seemed to thaw. “Home,” she muttered.

“Uh-huh.”

“My own bowl.”

“Yup. And your own bed.”

The silence stretched on for a moment while she pondered this. She gave me a skeptical look. “You’re not pulling my paw, are you, cat? Because you know what I can do with even one paw tied behind my back. Or three.”

“Oh, no! I would never pull your paw.”

“Fine,” she growled. “I’ll take it.”

“Great!” I cried, much relieved.

“Not that it matters much,” Dooley decided to put in his two cents. “Since the world is ending in a couple of days you won’t have much time to enjoy your new home anyway.”

Clarice decided to ignore this outburst. “Follow me,” she snarled.

We followed her. She took us around the corner to a row of large round trash cans with lids. She walked up to the third can in the row and reached up to give the lid a shove. It clattered to the ground. Then she stood to the side and casually started to lick her paw.

“Look inside,” she said.

I looked inside. And there it was. The holy grail. The clue I’d been looking for.