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“What I really want is to interview Astra’s former costars,” said Odelia now. “Amalia, Natalie and Penney. I have a feeling they’ll be able to shed some more light on the circumstances surrounding Astra’s death.”

“Impossible,” said the manager, shaking his head virtuously. “They are too old! I adore Amalia Pulpweed, but can you imagine her on the roof of my most excellent hotel in those high heels! She will totter into the abyss! Just like that!”

“Like I said, I’m not sure your cat burglar theory holds water, Barney,” said Odelia with a smile. “And I’d like to pursue every avenue available to me.”

“Fine,” said the manager, holding up his hands. “But they are not here, the leading ladies ofHearts& Roses. They are filming, so you will have to be patient.”

“Yeah, too bad about that,” murmured Odelia thoughtfully. I could tell she wouldn’t mind breaking up the shoot so she could talk to the three ladies right this instant, but then Oscar Kinetic would probably pop a major blood vessel.

“Besides, they could not possibly be involved,” said Barney, patting Odelia’s arm.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because they are stars! Celebrities! And everybody knows that celebrities never commit a major crime. Small ones, yes. Shoplifting. Drunk and disorderly. Drugs. But murder!Jamais! That would be bad for their careers, and celebrities love being celebrities. They know once convicted of murder they are stars no more.” He laughed a deprecating laugh as he rocked back on the settee. “Can you imagine Julia Roberts going to prison? Or Sandra Bullock?Impossible!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” said Odelia dubiously. Obviously she wasn’t as relaxed about the possibility of celebrities committing heinous crimes as Barney.

“There have been celebrities who were convicted of murder, though. Isn’t that right, Max?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Though no one immediately came to mind, fame and fortune certainly didn’t make one immune to the baser emotions and the fact that they could act upon them when so inclined or provoked.

“I think we should talk to Harriet. Ask her opinion. Harriet always has good instincts in cases like these.”

I regarded my friend with surprise. As far as I could tell, Harriet had almost never contributed in a meaningful way to any investigation we’d ever been involved in. “How could Harriet possibly know who killed Astra Jacobs?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Dooley vaguely, as he described hearts and arrows on the carpet with his paw. “She’s a girl, and you know what they say about girls.”

“No, I don’t know what they say about girls,” I said, watching my friend with amusement.

“Well, they’re very clever. And intuitive. So I’m sure she’ll have something to say about our case.”

“Is that a fact?”

“And she’s probably a big fan ofHearts& Roses.All girls are. So she’ll be able to provide us with background information on Astra and, and, and…”

“Yes?”

He sighed.“Is it hot in here or what?”

“Not particularly. Just comfortably toasty.”

“Well, I’m hot. And I think we should go and get some fresh air.” And as he walked off, he called out across his shoulder. “Are you coming, Max?”

I toddled after him, wondering what had suddenly gotten into him now. But when I saw he wasn’t heading for the lobby door but in the direction of the reception, I had a pretty good idea about his intentions. And they had nothing to do with fresh air and everything with a certain lady cat of mysterious allure.

CHAPTER 21

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The reception area proved utterly devoid of cats answering to Marion’s description, and since Odelia’s investigation had hit a momentary snag in the form of an absence of potential suspects to be interrogated, she decided to hit the town and exchange her detective’s cap for a more touristy one—a beret, perhaps.

And since being out and about in a big city like Paris doesn’t appeal as much to cats as it does to humans, Dooley and I once more were relegated to our room while Odelia visited various places of interest, with the aid of her trusty tourist guide.

The moment we arrived upstairs, Dooley made a beeline for the iPad and moments later the lively voices of Harriet and Brutus sounded through the room. When I joined him, Dooley had already explained about the big murder case, the cat burglar and, most importantly, the sultry cat we’d made the acquaintance of last night: the lady Marion.

“Marion,” said Harriet thoughtfully. “I don’t think I like that name. Somehow reminds of a feline I used to know who was a real piece of work.”

“Oh, Marion is a piece of work,” said Dooley, adopting a reverent tone. “A work of art the likes of which the world has never seen. Just like the Mona Lisa.”

Harriet and Brutus shared a look of surprise.“It almost sounds as if you’ve got a thing for this cat,” said Brutus. “You’re not going native on us, are you?”

Dooley looked to me for an explanation, but I declined to wade into a potential controversy so I pretended not to have heard Brutus’s comment.

Of course the latter couldn’t stop himself from elucidating. “The French are notorious for enjoying a full and often complicated love life,” he said. “In fact it sometimes would appear as if love is the only thing they have on their minds—apart fromhaute couture, of course.”

“Well, I don’t have love on the brain,” said Dooley. “I just think Marion is very kind and very sweet, and of course very lovely.” He smiled. “And she has the cutest accent, you guys. Very French.”

“Yeah, sounds like Dooley caught the bug,” said Brutus with a grin. “The Paris bug!”

Dooley looked up in alarm.“What bug? Is it contagious, you think? Oh, no! Maybe I’ll have to quarantine now. And just when Odelia is working her case and Chase is giving an important speech at his conference!”

“I don’t think this particular bug is contagious, Dooley,” I said. “And also, I don’t think it’s a nasty bug.”

“It can make you pretty sick, though,” said Harriet, and it sounded as if she spoke from experience.

“I hope I don’t get too sick,” said Dooley. “I don’t like to be sick. Especially when we’re on vacation.”

“So have you climbed to the top of the Eiffel Tower yet?” asked Brutus.

“I already told you, we’re not allowed up there,” I said.

“Nonsense. Odelia can easily sneak you up, safely tucked away in her backpack. Then at least when you get back to Hampton Cove you can tell people you saw Paris. Something more than the interior of a hotel room, that is.”

He was right, of course. Then again, to be honest I wasn’t all that interested in seeing what Paris looked like from the top of the Eiffel Tower. And I liked our hotel room very much, thank you very much. It was just the right size for a cat of my dimensions.

“The food is great,” I said, trying to get the discussion realigned in a more amenable direction. “In fact the food is amazing.”

“I’ll bet,” said Brutus, not convinced.

“So how is everybody over there?” I asked.

“Oh, you know. Fine, I guess,” said Harriet. “Gran has started up her neighborhood watch again, and she and Scarlett are patrolling the streets at night. They even bought night-vision goggles and stun guns and pepper spray so they can fight crime with more vigor.”

“They got arrested last night, though,” said Brutus.

“Arrested!” Dooley cried. “But why!”

“We were there, actually, weren’t we, tootsie roll?” said Brutus. “We got to ride with them.”

“Some neighbor called the police on us,” said Harriet. “Said he’d seen a couple of heavily armed gangsters slowly driving past his house, lights turned off and clearly up to no good. And when he looked a little closer he said they either looked like monsters or aliens, so he suspected an alien invasion.”

“Must have been those night-vision goggles,” said Brutus.

“He also said there were two cats in the car, looking particularly menacing.”

“I wasn’t looking menacing,” Brutus grunted. “I was just looking my usual self.”

“Menacing and extremely dangerous,” Harriet continued her report. “And he wasn’t the only neighbor either. No less than half a dozen people called it in, and so the police turned up in full force, and we were all arrested.”

“You were also arrested?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah, until they realized that we were actual cats, not an alien species.”

“To be honest, cats are an alien species, sweetums,” said Brutus. “Of a kind.”

“The third kind,” said Harriet with a smile. “Well, they let us go, of course, but Gran and Scarlett were booked and spent the night at the precinct. Until Uncle Alec arrived and discovered what happened and they were released again.”

“That must have been pretty awkward,” I said.

“Yeah, Gran wasn’t happy about it, that’s for sure,” said Harriet. “I’ve heard she screamed the house down when she was finally let go.”

“So are they going out there again tonight?” I asked.

“I doubt it,” said Harriet. “Gran feels Hampton Cove doesn’t deserve her brand of neighborhood protection. She said she’ll have to think long and hard before she spends her precious time guarding a bunch of ungrateful so-and-sos ever again.”

“Also, she’s pressing charges,” said Brutus.

“Pressing charges?” I asked. “Against who?”

“Whom,” Dooley murmured.

“Everybody!” said Harriet. “The police department, the neighbors who complained, the town council. She’s even suing theHampton Cove Gazette for writing an article about it.”

“Uh-oh,” I said. That’s what you get when you leave town for a couple of days: the whole thing suddenly goes to hell. “Chase and Odelia will calm her down when we get back,” I assured them.

“Tex has been wading into the controversy, and now Gran is suing him, too,” said Brutus.

“But why? What did he do?”

“He confiscated her tactical gear.”

I looked over when Dooley poked me in the ribs.

“Max, we have to go!” he loud-whispered.

“Go where?” asked Harriet. “What could be more important than talking to your best friends, Dooley?”

Dooley looked slightly bashful at this gentle rebuke.“We have a cat burglar to catch,” he explained, “and Marion is the only cat who can help us catch him.”

“Marion again,” said Harriet, visibly peeved. “What does she have that I don’t have?”

“She’s French,” said Brutus, earning himself a scathing glance from his girlfriend. “What? French girls have thatje ne sais quoi. Everybody knows this.”

“What’s thatje ne sais quoi?” asked Dooley, interested.

“I don’t know,” said Brutus with a grin.

CHAPTER 22

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Unfortunately for Dooley, once again Odelia had firmly closed the balcony windows, and so there was nothing else for us to do than eat some of the fine food that was on display, take a long nap on the bed, and generally enjoy the hospitality of the Fritz-Parlton. I could think of worse ways to spend my time.

It took a while but eventually Odelia and Chase made their way back home, only to immediately go out again so they could have dinner. Apparently they had a hot date with a houseboat on the Seine that had been converted into a restaurant.

So more snacking and napping ensued, but finally night had fallen, our humans had retired to bed, and life slowly returned to our weary limbs.

Out on the roof, we gazed across a lovely city, me with a sort of happy buzz going on—that food and those naps had done me a world of good—while Dooley kept darting anxious glances in all directions, keeping a lookout for Marion.

“What if she doesn’t show up, Max?” he asked. “What if she’s so upset with us she doesn’t want to speak to us again—or see us?”

“I doubt very much she would hold a grudge over a silly little misunderstanding like that,” I said.

“But what if she does? We’ll never see her again. And we’ll never be able to catch that cat burglar!”

“Relax, Dooley. The night is still young.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so relaxed, Max. This burglar could be murdering his next victim right now! Slashing her throat so he can steal her jewels!”

“Let’s just wait and see what happens,” I suggested.

I kinda liked Paris, I have to say. From a distance, of course. I’d never want to engage in the hustle and bustle of the big city. Too noisy for my taste, and too crowded. All those people and all that traffic. A cat can come to serious harm if he engages with all that teeming life.

But from up there, on that roof, it was nice. And just when I figured Marion was a no-show, suddenly she materialized out of thin air.

“Hiya, fellas,” she said, and made us both jump. I would have said Dooley jumped with joy, but judging from his cry of surprise it was more from being spooked. Marion does have a way of moving about with extreme stealth. Perhaps she’s a member of the French intelligence agency, the DGSE, as they call it here.

Marion seemed to enjoy the fact that she’d managed to catch us unawares, for she laughed a tinkling sort of laugh, which soon held Dooley spellbound, if the way his lower jaw was drooping and his eyes glazed over was any indication.

“Hey, Marion,” I said. “Just the person we were looking for.”

Dooley gulped once or twice.“Are you…” More gulps. “… still mad with us… Marion?”

“Mad? Are you crazy? Of course not.”

“Oh…”

“I saw you, you know. This morning? When you were in Barney’s office with your human? And then later in the lobby I saw how you carried on an entire conversation with her, and not a one-sided one either, like is usually the case with most humans.” She nodded in my direction. “You weren’t pulling my paw, Max. You actually can talk to your human. Which is a pretty neat thing, I have to admit.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why Odelia is an exception to the rule, I just know she is.” I studied the small black cat. “I thought I saw something in Barney’s office this morning. So that was you, hiding behind that vent and keeping an eye on things?”

She laughed.“You got me, Max. That’s one of my hiding places. This hotel is pretty old, you know, and there are a lot of secret little nooks like that where a cat can stay out of sight and still keep a lookout for what’s going on. There’s another spot behind reception. It’s my favorite place to watchthe lobby.”

“Is that your natural color?” asked Dooley, staring at Marion in a manner I’d deem inappropriate, to be honest.

“Yes, Dooley. This is my natural color,” she said, visibly amused at Dooley’s behavior.

“It’s very nice.”

“Thanks. I guess. So a lot happened since last night, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yeah, a woman was murdered,” I said. “And now we’re trying to figure out who killed her.”

“Yeah, I heard. Any luck so far?”

“Not really. Barney seems to think the cat burglar did it. Odelia isn’t so sure.”

“I saw him again, you know.”

“You saw the cat burglar?”

“Yeah, last night. Just after we met. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Just humans doing human things. But then later when I heard what happened I put two and two together, and now I’m convinced he murdered that poor woman.”

“You actually saw him go into Astra Jacobs’s room?”

“Yes, I did. Well, I saw him sneak across the roof, then lower himself onto her balcony with a rope. I didn’t stick around to see what he was up to this time.”

“But… didn’t you hear about the reward Barney has promised to anyone who could provide information on that burglar? He’s destroying the hotel’s reputation with his actions, and if the hotel losing business, your human’s position as manager is in jeopardy.”

Marion frowned.“Mh. I hadn’t thought of it like that. You really think so?”

“Of course! If the hotel keeps loses customers, the owners are going to think twice about keeping Barney on as general manager. They’ll replace him with someone who can get rid of this burglar and keep his guests safe.”

“Oops. I guess in that case I’d better start looking into this burglar business.”

“Your eyes,” said Dooley. “Are they a chocolate brown, would you say? Or more an emerald green?”

She merely smiled amusedly, then turned serious again.“You were going to say something, Max?”

“I was going to ask if you’re sure it was the cat burglar who broke into Astra’s room last night,” I said.

“Absolutely. Of course I can’t say for sure he’s also the one who killed her. But I did see him lower himself onto her balcony, like I said.”

“Oh, dear,” I said. “Odelia needs to know about this. It’s going to throw her theory completely out of whack.”

“I think they’re a chocolaty brown,” said Dooley. “Though it’s hard to be sure.”

“What’s Odelia’s theory?”

“She thinks Astra was murdered by someone she knows. Someone she let into her room.”

“And why does she think that?”

“Well, for one thing, when Agatha arrived, the door to the room was ajar, which would indicate that the killer had just left. And there were no signs of a breakin, so she must have let the person into her room herself.”

“Unless that person was the cat burglar I saw, and he let himself in through the window, was caught trying to steal Astra’s valuables, killed her, and left through the door.”

“Yeah, that seems to be the obvious explanation,” I agreed.

“Okay, so let’s see if we don’t get lucky tonight and catch the guy in the act.”

“Chances are he’ll lay low after what happened last night,” I said. “Astra’s murder will have spooked him for sure.”

“Unless he’s a hardened criminal. In that case he’ll just keep going until he’s caught.”

“Brutus says French girls have thatje ne sais quoi,” said Dooley, “though he confessed that he didn’t know what it was.”

Marion grinned at this.“Well, if he doesn’t know, I certainly don’t. Now are we going to stake out this roof or not? Cause if we are, you have got to stop staring at me as if I’m a piece ofentrec?te, Dooley.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Dooley, mortified.

“No, it’s fine. Just try and control yourself, will you?”

“I will try,” Dooley murmured timidly.

“A girl likes to get attention, but she doesn’t like to be stared at, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” Dooley repeated. “It’s just that… you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

She seemed to like that, Marion, for she gave him a radiant smile, regarding him much like one regards a favorite child.“Well, that’s fine, then,” she said softly.

And so our long vigil began. And hopefully this time this nocturnal marauder would be caught by the concerted efforts of this French-American team.

CHAPTER 23

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Odelia and Chase were in bed, and should have been asleep, only neither of them felt like sleeping. Perhaps it was because they were still on Hampton Cove time, or because a lot had happened that day, but either way, even after turning in one hour before, they were both still wide awake.

Chase had told Odelia all about his speech during dinner, and she had told him about her investigation, and now they were enjoying the afterglow of a wonderful dinner and time spent in a fun city far away from home.

Chase’s speech had gone particularly well, and had been well received by his colleagues. He’d mixed light humor with some hard facts about the job, and the combination had gone down like a treat. Odelia’s investigation, on the other hand, hadn’t yielded a lot of information, but she had a feeling she was getting there.

“The problem is I don’t have much time,” she said. “The killer may have even left already. Barney is keeping an eye on the checkouts, and keeping track, but he can’t stop people from leaving. Only the police can, and they think they’ve got their killer in custody so they’re not going to move a finger now.”

“Yeah, too bad I can’t do anything. I talked to a couple of my colleagues, and they promised to look into the investigation. But even they have to be careful. They don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. And according to them this Daniel Giblet guy is generally considered a good detective.”

“He could be right, of course. Everything revolves around the murder weapon.”

“That knife.”

She nodded.“Pity we can’t get access to the forensics gathered in the case.” She gave him a hopeful look, but he immediately shook his head.

“No can do, I’m afraid, babe. I’d be way out of line if I tried to use my connections to get that kind of access to the case.”

“Couldn’t you at least ask them if any fingerprints were found on the knife? Or any DNA that points in Agatha’s direction? She claims that she left that knife at home. That the murder weapon couldn’t possibly be hers.”

“A gift, was it, this knife?”

“Yeah, a gift from the entire crew ofHearts& Roses. They were shooting in Morocco and Agatha had complained that she couldn’t get a decent knife to peel and cut her apples—she loves to eat her apple a day—and so partly as a joke, partly because they genuinely like her, they bought her this knife.”

“She went on all the shoots?”

“Not all of them. But Morocco was a special occasion. The first timeHearts& Roses was being shot abroad for a special extra-long episode, and so she joined the shoot and enjoyed a nice vacation out there.” She sighed. “Sounds like things between her and Oscar were still pretty rosy back then.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem to care very much that his wife is languishing in a French prison cell, does he?” said Chase.

“I think he cares, but he’s got a lot riding on this shoot. If things work out, they could be launched for another ten years. If not, this might be the end of a lot of careers.”

“But still. If you were arrested, accused of a crime you didn’t commit, I’d drop everything and try and get you off.”

“Unless you were convinced I was guilty,” said Odelia, quirking an eyebrow.

Chase glanced over.“You think Oscar knows something we don’t?”

“Could be. Either he knows that Agatha is guilty, or he killed Astra and is trying to make his wife take the fall. At least that’s what Tucker thinks.”

“Get rid of his mistress and his wife in one fell swoop.”

They both thought about this possibility for a moment, before moving on to other potential suspects.“Tucker himself is off the list,” said Odelia. “He was out with his friends all night and only arrived back at the hotel at six o’clock in the morning. But I haven’t ruled out Astra’s son Joonas and his Russian girlfriend Olga yet. Those video time codes can definitely be tampered with.I looked it up on the internet,” she admitted sheepishly. “Plus, Barney had one of his security people go over CCTV from the lobby, and they arrived back at the hotel at four-thirty. So they could still have snuck upstairs and murdered Astra.”

“So that would be Joonas…”

“Harri and Olga Leder. They want to launch a business and need money. Money Astra refused to give them.”

“Okay, and then there’s this other son?”

“Yeah, Ippo Murr. He and his dad provided each other with an alibi, which doesn’t mean much.”

“And why would they have killed Astra?”

“Ippo seemed pretty bitter about Astra not expressing much of an interest in him or his dad over the years. Only now she seemed genuinely interested in being in their lives.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a motive, babe.”

“I know. Just trying to keep an open mind.”

“Besides, how would any of these people have gotten hold of that particular knife?”

“See? That’s what I mean. It always comes back to that knife. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Unless…”

“Unless what?” She gave him a hopeful look.

“Unless whoever killed Astra knew about that knife, and used one exactly like it to frame Agatha. In which case they weren’t targeting Astra so much as Agatha.”

“Yeah, but if they were targeting Agatha, why not kill her? Why go this elaborate route?”

“Good point,” he said slowly. Finally he heaved a deep sigh. “I see what you mean, babe. It’s a pretty tough case.”

“And then of course there’s that cat burglar.”

“Barney’s number-one choice.”

“But once again: how would a cat burglar get hold of Agatha’s knife?”

“Okay, so maybe we shouldn’t focus on this knife so much. I mean, this is probably just some ordinary knife, right? Plenty of them around.”

“No, this is a very particular knife. Made in Morocco.”

“So maybe it was Astra’s knife. She was in Morocco, too, right? So maybe she bought the same knife when they got Agatha hers.”

“Which is exactly why I need to know about fingerprints or DNA. If we could somehow prove it’s not Agatha’s, then Giblet doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“Don’t forget about the witness, babe. The one who saw her stagger out of that room, blood all over herself.”

“Yeah, but that can easily be explained. Anyone who came upon a murder victim would react that way, especially if they know the person: they’d look for a pulse, and then they’d stumble out of the room, looking for help.” She patted her husband’s arm. “Okay, so basically Agatha’s life now depends on you, Chase.”

“Me!”

“Sure! Your networking skills will secure us access to the forensic evidence in Giblet’s case. And that way we’ll know how to proceed.”

“No pressure,” Chase grunted. He glanced around. “Where are your cats?”

“Oh, out and about,” she said airily. “Probably on the roof with Marion.”

“Oh, that’s right. Have you discovered who she is, this Marion?”

“Barney’s cat. Dooley fancies her.”

Chase barked a laugh of surprise.“Dooley fancies Barney’s cat. Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.”

“No, but it’s true. Max told me so himself.”

“Now why do I have the feeling that poor kid is in for a world of hurt?”

CHAPTER 24

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And so there we were: organizing a stakeout on the roof of the Fritz-Parlton in Paris. Not something I’d imagined myself doing a week ago! I was looking in the general direction of the chimney stack, Marion was idly gazing at the millions of lights illuminating the city below and Dooley… was staring at Marion.

“Maybe you shouldn’t stare, Dooley,” I reminded him. “It’s rude, you know.”

“Oh, golly!” he cried. “I was doing it again, wasn’t I? I can’t help it, Max. For some reason my eyes keep turning back to Marion. It’s almost as if they’ve got a mind of their own and I can’t control what they do!”

“That’s nonsense, Dooley,” I said. “They’re your eyes. You just have to point them in a different direction, that’s all.”

“I’ll try,” he promised, and for a few minutes everything went all right.

“Dooley?” suddenly Marion piped up.

“Yes, Marion?” Dooley said croakily.

“You’re staring again!”

“Gosh! I’m so sorry!”

She grinned.“That’s all right. You’re not the first cat who’s fascinated with me.”

“I’m not?” asked Dooley, sounding hurt.

“B?bel had the same thing when we first met.”

“B?bel? Who’s B?bel.”

“My boyfriend.”

“Your… boyfriend?!”

“Yeah. He’s out of town now.”

“Out of town where?” I asked, interested in this insight into the life of a Parisian cat.

“His human has a house in the South of France and likes to go there from time to time.”

“So he’s been gone long?”

“Yeah, and I do miss him when he’s gone.”

“Have you ever considered joining him?”

“Impossible, alas,” said Marion. “You see, his human is my human’s former significant other. And even though they still work together, they don’t live together, and she would never allow Barney to join her now.”

“Who is your boyfriend’s human?”

“She runs the housekeeping department.”

“So she and Barney work together even though they used to be a couple? That must be hard.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. They’re good friends now, and they form a great team. Audrey is very practical while Barney is more of a people person. In fact if Audrey was here, this whole business with the cat burglar and the murder probably wouldn’t have happened. She’d have been on that scoundrel in a heartbeat. You see, she considers this hotel her baby, just like Barney does, and anyone who hurts the hotel, can expect her to come down on them like a ton of bricks.”

For a few moments, all was quiet again, while we took up our vigilance. Then Dooley asked softly,“Did you know that Marion had a boyfriend, Max?”

“No, Dooley, I didn’t know.”

“I wonder what he’s like,” he said sadly. “Probably big and butch like Brutus.”

“We’ll probably meet him soon so we’ll find out.”

“I don’t think I want to meet him, Max.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like it.”

“I’ll bet he’s nice.”

“I don’t think so. I think he’s a brute.”

“If he was a brute Marion wouldn’t want to be with him.”

He thought about this for a moment, darted an anxious glance in Marion’s direction, then nodded. “You’re probably right. He’s probably very nice to deserve a girl like her.”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said, and felt compelled to pat him on the head. I would have given him a hug, but I had to adhere to the rules of the stakeout, which basically boil down to: don’t allow your vigilance to waver even a single moment, because these cat burglars are quick!

For a few moments, silence reigned on that roof, while we all looked in different directions, covering every possible angle.

Then Dooley piped up again,“Max?”

“Mh?”

“I think that maybe we could all be friends.”

“Who?” I asked, a little distractedly, because I thought I’d seen something. Only it turned out to be a bat fluttering out of that chimney stack.

“Why, Marion’s boyfriend, of course. I think we could all be great friends, and maybe even travel together to the South of France and have a great time down there.”

“I doubt it, Dooley,” I said, hating to burst my friend’s bubble. “Marion said that Barney never travels to the South of France with his ex-partner.”

“Oh,” he said, then lapsed into a brooding silence once more. From which he soon rebounded with even more vigor. “Or we can all come and live at the hotel permanently, and be friends and be merry! Odelia and Chase love Paris, they absolutely do, and we could invite the rest of the family to join us and we can all live here happily ever after.”

“I don’t think so, buddy. So let’s enjoy it while it lasts, huh? Now where is this darned cat burglar is what I would like to know.”

He eyed me strangely.“Why are you watching that chimney, Max?”

“Well, because everybody knows that cat burglars crawl out of chimneys.”

“But… how could a human fit in that thin pipe? That’s physically impossible.”

I stared at him for a moment, then back at that pipe, then finally I grumbled,“Darn it. You’re right. He couldn’t fit through that pipe if he tried!” So I’d been looking in the wrong direction this entire time. Between my lack of intimate knowledge of chimneys and Dooley being more focused on Marion than our burglar, chances were he’d given us the slip!

But then suddenly Marion called out,“Max! Dooley! Over here!”

We joined her quick as a flash—or rather two flashes—and lo and behold: one floor down, a man dressed in black from head to toe was scaling the wall, seemingly effortlessly, heading in the direction of one of the balconies!

And if I wasn’t mistaken, it was actually our balcony!

CHAPTER 25

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“Quick! Let’s get him!” I cried.

We hopped down onto the balcony below, and even before that burglar could enter the room, I slipped through the window and bellowed,“Odelia! Chase! The burglar—he’s here!”

To my surprise, the light was still on in the bedroom, and both my humans were still awake. Without a moment’s hesitation, Odelia was up and gestured for Chase to follow her. The cop didn’t wait for explanations, but slipped from under the covers and was tiptoeing in the direction indicated.

The cat burglar, probably having been spooked first by three cats darting between his legs, and then by the light that was still on in the room, didn’t stick around to have a nice conversation about the tricks of his trade, but was shimmying up a drainpipe on his way to the roof.

Chase, catching sight of the guy, shouted,“Hey, you!”

‘Hey, you’ might work with some burglars, but this one seemed reluctant to halt his progress just because he was being ‘hey, you’d’ and so Chase had no other recourse but to follow suit. Dressed in blue pajamas and barefoot, he clambered up that drainpipe in hot pursuit, three cats quick to follow him as well.

Odelia, meanwhile, said,“I’m calling Barney!” Which seemed like the right thing to do under the circumstances.

Up on the roof, meanwhile, Chase tried to get his bearings, and find out which way the burglar had fled. Finally he clapped eyes on his quarry, and repeated,“Hey, you!”

Unfortunately the magic formula still failed to grip, and the burglar hurried off in the opposite direction, Chase now giving chase.

“We better keep up,” I told the others.

“This is so exciting!” Marion cried.

“Does your boyfriend like this sort of thing?” asked Dooley. “Cause this is what we do in Hampton Cove all the time.”

“You do? Oh, it’s such an exciting life you lead, Dooley.”

“You bet,” said Dooley, well pleased with this endorsement.

But then the heat of the chase required we all shut up and focus on getting our guy before he got away, and so we headed in the direction Chase had proceeded.

Now your typical hotel roof isn’t actually flat, so it’s not as if you’re on a sidewalk. There’s ridges and antennae and chimneys and wires and such. In other words: an obstacle course on uneven terrain. And since the sides of the roof are to be avoided, seeing as how they constitute a straight drop to the actual sidewalk several floors below and so certain death, it’s not exactly a walk in the park either.

And so I worried. About Chase, I mean. If he fell off this roof, Odelia would never forgive us. So even though my intention had been to nab the burglar, on second thought I decided I needed to reconsider my goal to one where I prevented Chase from having to be scraped off a Parisian sidewalk!

And so I determined where the edge of the roof was and made sure that when Chase got too close for comfort, I yelled out a warning, which he thankfully heeded.

The burglar, meanwhile, was hopping across that roof as if he’d never done anything else in his life. I don’t know if you’re familiar with the chamois? They’re a type of goat native to mountainous terrain, and they hop from crag to crag in an effortless sort of way. Well, if I hadn’t known any better, I would have said this burglar was a denizen ofthose goats. In other words not a cat burglar so much as a goat burglar.

He hopped to the next section of the roof, then momentarily disappeared from view, and popped up again on the other side.

Chase had a hard time keeping up. He may be a great cop, but he doesn’t have an ounce of goat blood in him, unfortunately.

He darted around a cell phone mast, which had a blinky light at the top, and almost caught up with our perpetrator.

“Stop!” Chase yelled. “Stop right there!”

But the man clearly wasn’t in a mood to comply. Instead, he accelerated, and promptly hit his head against a metal rod that was sticking out a piece of wall.

“Ouch,” he muttered, then sort of staggered back, Chase making a grab for him, but managed to steer clear of the cop’s long arms, and suddenly disappeared from view altogether.

“Where did he go?” asked Chase.

I glanced around, then down, and then I saw him: the burglar was making his way down the wall that led to a terraced section of roof about thirty feet below us.

He glanced up, then, gave Chase a sort of cheery wave, and disappeared through a metal door.

“Well, shoot,” Chase said, looking around for a way to get down there. “How did he…”

I pointed to a ladder, well concealed beneath us. Chase rode that ladder down like a trained fireman, hopped onto that flat piece of roof and tried the door.

Locked, of course.

And so our intrepid human had to admit defeat. The burglar had got away.

“Where is he?” asked Marion, now joining me.

“He went that way,” I said, pointing to the door which Chase was now kicking, which didn’t seem like a good idea, since he wasn’t wearing any shoes.

“Where did he go?” asked Dooley, the last one to arrive.

“Through that door,” I said, pointing at Chase, who was now hopping on his left leg, while holding his right foot in his hands for some reason, and releasing a long stream of invective. Humans often do that to blow off steam, or when they’ve done a silly thing like kicking a metal door with their bare foot.

“That’s the door that leads to the staff wing,” said Marion. “Barney and I live there, and so does Audrey when she’s here. And B?bel, of course.”

“So… do you think our burglar could be a member of staff?” I asked.

“Could be,” said Marion. She gave me a smile. “Something to discuss with Barney, I’d imagine. Though he won’t like it. I can tell you that already.”

“He won’t?” asked Dooley.

“No, imagine if he found out a member of his staff committed multiple burglaries and a murder? The blow to the hotel’s reputation would be terrible. No, he won’t like this at all.”

CHAPTER 26

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“What! Where! How!” Barney yelled as he practically stumbled over his feet entering the room. “Did you catch him? Where is he!”

“I’m sorry to say I lost him,” said Chase gloomily.

“Parbleu!” the manager cried, and freely clutched his head.

Chase didn’t look happy either as he nursed his damaged appendage. Apart from being a little banged up, his feet also looked very dirty. Clearly the cleaning staff of the Fritz-Parlton had better things to do than to give the roof of the hotel a thorough rinse from time to time. Then again, probably not many guests go up there of an evening, leaving all of that fine real estate the purview of pigeons and cats like myself and Dooley.

And Marion, of course, who now approached her human and stropped her back against his leg.

Automatically he picked her up and started stroking her, his eyes still riveted on Chase, the man he’d singled out as the prime source of information on all things cat burglar.

“He tried to break into this room,” Odelia explained as she extracted what looked like a metal splinter from her husband’s foot. “So Chase chased him across the roof, but he managed to escape through… some door?”

“Yeah, he escaped through a metal door on a lower-lying flat roof more or less…” He glanced at the ceiling, then pointed in a South-South-Western direction.

Barney’s eyes rolled up in his head as he tried to figure out where Chase’s target might have gone, then those eyes widened when he realized what this meant.

“But… that is the staff building. That is where I have my room, and where housekeeping and the kitchen and other essential services are located.”

“Yeah, I thought as much,” said Chase, darting an appreciative glance in my direction. I had, of course, put Odelia in possession of the information Marion had supplied, which I had a feeling would prove very useful indeed.

“So… what does this mean!” cried the manager.

“That our guy is a member of your staff?” Odelia suggested.

“Mais non! C’est pas vrai!” Barney said in a whimper. “Audrey will kill me!”

“Who’s Audrey?” asked Chase.

“My ex-wife. We more or less run the hotel together,” he said as he gazed off into space, trying to come to terms with this new development.

“You… run this hotel with your ex-wife?”

Barney nodded as he chewed his bottom lip.“We were terrible as a couple, but great as a team. Though I might wait to tell her. She calls me every day,” he explained. “Or even several times a day. Audrey is a workaholic, just like me.”

“So where is she?” asked Odelia.

“The South of France,” I explained.

“Ordouille-sur-Mer. It’s in the South of France,” Barney said. “She takes exactly two weeks vacation a year, and always at the house she inherited from her maternal grandmother.” He started walking in circles now, wearing out the carpet if he wasn’t careful. “Maybe I’ll tell her when she gets back. No need to alarm her.” He glanced up and fixed Odelia with an intent look. “Please catch this person for me, Odelia. Catch him and I’ll quadruple the reward. Quintuple it! But Audrey must never find out. In fact nobody can find out about this. A member of my staff.C’est terrible, ?a! Who would do such a thing! Who, tell me—but WHO!!!”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Odelia, alarmed at this emotional outburst from one who had until now appeared so sane and collected. “It’s entirely possible this cat burglar simply knows his way around the hotel very well. He will have studied the layout, and will have worked out an escape plan in case of an emergency like this. So he might simply have left that door open himself, to have an avenue of escape, and not be a member of your staff at all.”

“You think?” asked Barney, a look of hope now gleaming in his eyes.

“Well, it’s entirely possible, isn’t it? I mean, how many members of your staff remain on the premises at night?”

“Not many,” said the manager. “A night receptionist, one cook, in case a guest wants a snack, two security guards, the bartender, myself,?videmment…”

“Better ask those security guards if they noticed anything out of the ordinary, and check with the rest of your staff where they were when this happened.”

“I will.”

“Do you have CCTV in that part of the hotel?” asked Chase, hissing when Odelia put some disinfectant on his wounded foot.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“So maybe that’s why he chose that escape route,” said Odelia. “Because he knows there’s no cameras there.”

Barney’s face displayed a sort of jubilant expression now. “Oh, Odelia. I knew I could count on you. And you,Monsieur Kingsley!”

“Well, if you could really count on me,” said Chase, “I would have caught the guy for you.”

“Better luck next time,” said Odelia.

“Let’s hope there won’t be a next time,” said Barney. “Perhaps you have spooked him so much he won’t be back.”

I remembered the guy waving at Chase and felt compelled to say,“He didn’t look particularly spooked to me.”

Odelia nodded, to indicate she’d heard.

“The guy is brazen,” she said. “Absolutely brazen.”

Barney’s face fell again. “This isn’t over, is it?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” she said with a commiserative look in the manager’s direction.

“He did knock his head,” Dooley now commented. “So maybe he’s got a bruise? Humans do bruise easily, don’t they? Once when Uncle Alec got up too quickly and hit his head he had a bruise on the top of his head for weeks. He looked funny.”

“Dooley is right,” I said. “He did hit his head trying to get away. So maybe all you have to do is keep an eye out for a guest or member of staff with a big bruise on his face.”

Odelia translated my words and Chase nodded.“That’s right. I’d totally forgotten about that. Though with our luck, his mask absorbed the blow, and he’ll look right as rain.”

“I am keeping an eye out,” Barney said, tapping his index finger against his nose. “I am keeping a good big eye out all day tomorrow. And if I see a man with a bruise—snap! I have him nabbed! Oh, thank you,Monsieur Kingsley!”

“Chase, please,” said Chase, smiling at the little man’s excitement.

“Thank you so much for everything you do for my hotel. It is most appreciated. Most appreciated!”

And then he turned on his heel and strode out, taking Marion along with him.

“Tomorrow is the day!” he cried as he walked out the door. “Tomorrow we catch the big crook!”

CHAPTER 27

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The next morning, Odelia and Chase went down for breakfast in the breakfast room, along with all the other guests. This time they decided to bring us along with them, since today was an important day: the burglar-slash-murderer was finally going to get his due. Or at least that’s what Barney firmly believed.

“So all we have to do is look around for a man with a big bruise on his face?” asked Dooley as we sat between Odelia’s legs and kept quite out of harm’s way.

“Yes, and when we see him, we are to warn Odelia immediately, so she can tell Barney. And then he’ll call the police and they’ll come and arrest this man.”

Dooley glanced around.“Is Marion going to join us, too? She has very sharp eyes, and she was there last night with us.”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Sometimes she likes to roam around the lobby of a morning, though not always.” Though she might be hidden in the walls, of course.

“So when is B?bel coming back?”

“No idea. Soon, I think, since this Audrey person doesn’t take a lot of vacation.”

“Two weeks vacation isn’t a lot. I thought the French had a lot more vacation?”

“They have, but Audrey doesn’t like to be away from the hotel for too long.”

“Odd,” said Dooley, “that a person would love their job so much they don’t want to take a vacation.”

“Yeah, but isn’t it nice, though? We should all love our jobs so much.”

Dooley gave me a strange look.“We don’t have a job, Max.”

“Oh, but we’ve got the most important job in the world, Dooley.”

“We do?”

“Taking care of our human—and making sure she doesn’t get in harm’s way.”

Okay, all right. I know you think that only dogs fall into that category of pets, but make no mistake: cats love their humans too! We just don’t like to show it. Unlike dogs, the show-offs.

And so we settled in, and took our time to study each and every person who walked into the breakfast room.

“What if our cat burglar takes breakfast upstairs?” asked Dooley after a while.

“Then whoever delivers him breakfast in his room will report back to Barney. That’s how he’s arranged it with select members of his staff.” The ones he was absolutely sure he could trust, in other words.

“I have a good feeling about this, Max. I think we’re finally going to catch this guy.”

“Yeah, I have a good feeling, too,” I said.

Just then, a man walked in with a large bruise on the side of his face, and I immediately nudged Dooley.“Look at that guy!” I hissed.

“It’s him!” Dooley cried. “It’s the killer!”

“Odelia!” I said, emerging from underneath the table. “Look over there. It’s our guy!”

“Odelia looked up from her croissant and studied the man intently.

“I’ll go and tell Barney,” she said, and wiped her lips and got up.

Chase gave the man a surreptitious look, and murmured under his breath,“He certainly has the build for it.”

And he was right. The man was built like an athlete: tall and muscular, with a closely cropped head of dark hair and one of those elongated faces with piercing black eyes. He now spotted us, but if he recognized us from the roof last night, he didn’t give any indication. He just took a tray and lined up for the breakfast buffet along with the rest of the guests.

Odelia, meanwhile, had returned with Barney, and casually indicated our mystery man to the hotel manager. Barney gave him a quick once-over and then smiled indulgently and shook his head, tsk-tsking freely.

The two of them came over, and Barney sat down at our table.

“Do you know who that is?” he asked, visibly amused that we would peg the man as our nighttime marauder. “That’s Jermaine Durkavic.”

“Let me guess. Tennis player?” asked Chase, wiping his lips with his napkin.

“He’s a Serbian prince!” said Barney, lowering his voice. “He’s next in line for the throne, should Serbia ever decide to reinstate the monarchy. Jermaine’s grandfather was the last king ever to rule Serbia, before the monarchy was abolished and the king had to flee the country.”

“So he’s not our guy? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Prince Durkavic is a very wealthy man, Chase. He doesn’t have to steal. If anything, he’d make the perfect target for our real thief. Which is why maybe I should have a discreet word. Ask him if he’s taken the necessary precautions and tell him to keep his valuables in the hotel safe at all times.” He promptly got up.

“But what about the bruise?” asked Odelia.

Once again that indulgent smile was back, as if to say: oh, you silly, silly person.“Prince Durkavic is a great sportsman. He’s a first-class swimmer and also enjoys fencing, horse riding, polo, and kickboxing. I imagine he received that bruise while engaged in one of his many athletic pastimes. Now please excuse me.” And then he was gone, making a beeline for Prince Durkavic’s table. The two men soon engaged in polite and pleasant conversation, and from the way Barney was all smiles it was obvious the Serbian prince was not our man.

Finally his minor audience with the royal was at an end, and the manager serpentined his way back to our table.“It is just as I suspected. He fought a friendly boxing match yesterday and his opponent got a little too close for comfort and hit him on the eye. But he has a rematch planned today and he promised me to be more careful.” He sighed and shook his head. “Such an amazing man. Such a talent. Andsuch kindness.” And then he was off again to run his hotel.

“So… he’s not our guy?” asked Dooley.

“No, it would appear not,” I said. “He’s a Serbian prince who likes boxing and is very rich so he doesn’t need to burgle people.”

“Oh,” said Dooley, clearly disappointed. “I didn’t even know there was a country named Serbia. Where is it?”

“Europe has a lot of countries,” I said. “Dozens or even hundreds of them, and a lot of them I have never heard of either.” I glanced up to Odelia, who was still watching the Prince. The man must have noticed, for he smiled in her direction, and held up his croissant, as if to say:‘Bon app?tit!’

CHAPTER 28

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Barney had arranged for Odelia to finally meet the three stars ofHearts& Roses. Amalia Pulpweed, Natalie Skinner and Penney Langner had agreed to talk to her on set, during one of their breaks, and this time Chase was joining her, to lend some weight to her investigation. He was only due at his conference around eleven, so he could squeeze in this interview before, and make sure that the three divas answered all of his wife’s questions dutifully and without prevarication.

We met the three stars outside Amalia’s trailer, which was huge and hulking, and just that little bit bigger than the respective trailers of her two costars that stood parked nearby. Obviously there was a certain hierarchy on set, and you could judge by the size of the trailer who was the bigger star.

“Oh, Ophelia, sweetie,” said Amalia when she saw us homing in on her. “So glad you could finally make it! Here, take a seat.” She looked at Chase with unveiled interest. “And who are you, handsome?”

“My husband,” said Odelia curtly. “And the name is Odelia, not Ophelia.” Clearly she wasn’t as big a fan of Miss Pulpweed as she used to be.

Then again, as I understood, Amalia had given Odelia quite the runaround so far.

The two other ladies also joined us, cups of coffee in hand, and soon the interview was well underway.

A small table had been set up, with an umbrella to provide the required shade, and from time to time a member of the production showed up, to make sure the stars’ makeup was still in place.

“Do you think they’re going to powder our noses, too, Max?” asked Dooley, surprised by all this fuss.

“I doubt it, Dooley,” I said. “We’re not expected to appear in this particular show.”

“Okay, so are the rumors true that you and Astra used to fight a lot on set?” asked Odelia, determined to make the most of the time she had with these three.

“Poppycock,” said Amalia, taking the lead. “Astra and I were dear, dear friends. In fact she was one of my best friends in all the world, and I miss her terribly.” She sniffed, to show us just how much she was going to miss her.

“Same here,” said Natalie curtly. “I’m not saying Astra was my best friend, but I respected her for her talent and what she brought to the show, and I like to think she respected me for the same reason.”

“We were a symbiotic unity,” Penney purred. “The four of us shared a spiritual bond and together we were stronger than our individual parts.” She sighed sadly. “She was such a vital part of the us that made us the us that we were and the us that we still are, but most of all I’ll miss her gentle soul. The only comfort I have is knowing that she’s in a better place now and is looking down on us from above.”

“Has she been recast?” asked Chase.

“Oh, but of course,” said Amalia. “The moment she turned us down we talked about how to handle such a momentous change in the dynamic.”

“We wondered if we should proceed at all,” Penney confessed. “Because it’s always been the four of us, and we weren’t sure if ‘we’ would work.” She gestured between the three of them.

“Also, we weren’t sure if the fans would accept this new iteration,” said Amalia.

“We still don’t,” said Natalie as she took a sip from her drink, then grimaced. She held up the cup. “Hey, THING!” she bellowed to the first person with a clipboard she saw. “I thought I said hot! This coffee is cold! FIX IT!”

The person immediately took the cup from her and disappeared again, uttering a million apologies.

“Be nice, Nat,” said Amalia.

“I am being nice. I could have had her fired.”

“Must be wonderful to be a star,” said Dooley. “People at your beck and call all the time. You just shout and someone brings you what you want.”

“Which is basically the arrangement we have,” I pointed out. “Minus the attitude.”

“Oh, right,” he said. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. Though I’d never shout at Odelia like that. I don’t think she would like to be called ‘thing.’”

“No, I’m sure she wouldn’t.”

“Okay, so who’s the replacement?” asked Odelia, taking copious notes of the conversation.

“Sukey Gumieniak,” said Amalia. “An up-and-coming star.”

“Up-and-coming nobody, you mean,” Natalie scoffed, then wisely shut up when Amalia shot her a look of warning.

“Sukey is so great,” said Penney. “I just love her energy. And the way she stepped in and became part of this magical circle. I admire her, I really do.”

“I’d like her a lot better if she didn’t keep flubbing her lines,” said Natalie.

“She doesn’t flub her lines,” said Penney. “Does she?”

“Oh, absolutely. Twice yesterday and three times the day before. And that’s only in my scenes. She needs to get her act together before Oscar fires her ass.”

“I think she’s doing just fine,” said Amalia. “It’s not easy to step into shoes as big as Astra’s. Not that she’s trying to take over the same part,” she hastened to say. “It’s a completely new part, written especially for her.

“So this Sukey person will be part of your… squad?” asked Odelia.

“We’ll have to see about that,” said Natalie, making a face.

“Eventually, yes,” said Amalia.

“She needs to grow into the role,” said Penney. “She doesn’t start as part of our group of friends. At first it even looks like we’re at cross purposes, but as time goes on we all become great, great friends and we embrace her quirky presence.”

“Quirky is the right word,” Natalie snorted. “Do you know what she told me yesterday? That she can’t go to sleep without smoking at least one joint, and sometimes two. Medicinal, she claims. For past trauma. Whatever that means.”

“Sukey has a troubled past,” said Amalia as she flicked an imaginary mote of dust from her dress.

She looked absolutely gorgeous, I have to say, as did her two costars. All three were dressed in what I assumed was the latesthaute couture. Amalia’s strapless dress was covered with fun figures and embroidered with sequins, silver pearls and Swarovski crystals. Natalie was wearing a puckered lace coat made from antique patchwork. And Penney wore a two-piece gown with a black silk top and taffeta skirt that looked like cashmere. All in all it must have cost a pretty penny.

“Now that we’re talking about Sukey’s essential quirkiness,” said Penney, leaning in and lowering her voice, “I think she wasn’t happy about Astra being in Paris.”

The others had also leaned in, and were eyeing Penney with distinct interest.

“She didn’t?” asked Amalia.

“No, she told me so herself. When she heard that Astra was staying at the Fritz-Parlton, she asked me if I thought Oscar had given her her old part back, and what it meant for Sukey.”

“God, what a nightmare. Imagine losing your part to your predecessor,” said Natalie.

“I assured her that there was simply no way Astra was coming back on the show. She would never, ever come back. But of course we all know how persuasive Oscar can be, so I don’t think it can be ruled out.”

“No way,” said Amalia. “You think?”

“Oscar and Astra did have a special relationship,” said Penney.

“Special relationship?” asked Odelia. “You mean they were having an affair?”

Penney looked disturbed. She probably had forgotten Odelia and Chase were even there.

“This was a long time ago,” said Amalia after a pause. “Like, years and years.”

“Yes, but Oscar has never concealed the fact that he still liked the woman,” said Natalie. “So it’s possible she was here because he invited her. And had offered her the part.”

“He wouldn’t have given her the part behind our back,” said Penney. “Would he?”

Natalie lifted a finely penciled eyebrow.“Wouldn’t he?” she said meaningfully.

“Oh, my,” said Penney. “So Sukey was right to fear for her job. If Astra had agreed to come back on the show, Oscar would have kicked her to the curb so fast she wouldn’t have known what hit her.”

“The door,” said Natalie laconically. “On her way out.”

“Five minutes, ladies!” suddenly a man holding a clipboard and one of those funny-looking headphones that fasten around one’s head announced.

“Okay, we need to wrap this up, Ophelia,” said Amalia, getting up. “Time to go to work.”

“One last question,” said Odelia. “Where were you when Astra died?”

“Are you kidding me?” asked Natalie. But when she saw the look on Odelia’s face, she added, “Apparently not.”

“I was giving myself the best present a woman can ask for,” said Amalia finely.

“A nip and tuck?” said Natalie.

“Nat!” said Amalia with mock indignation. “No, my beauty sleep, of course. Who needs a nip or a tuck when you get enough sleep?”

“Well, I do, for one,” said Natalie. “And at least I’m honest about it, unlike some of us.”

Amalia merely laughed, though a little sourly, I thought.

“I couldn’t sleep so I was Skyping with my husband,” said Natalie. “You can check with him if you want.”

“Now why would they want to do that?” said Amalia. “Ophelia isn’t with the police department. Isn’t that right?”

“No, I’m just helping out Barnabas Sheffield,” Odelia agreed. She turned to Penney, who seemed about the nicest of the three. “What about you, Penney?”

“I was meditating,” said Penney softly. “Keeping that positive energy flowing and getting in touch with my spirit guide. It’s how I prepare myself for a role.”

“Did he give you any acting advice?” asked Natalie. “Cause girl, you need it.”

“Yes, you have flubbed a line or two, too,” said Amalia.

“I have not!” said Penney.

“Yes, you have. Yesterday when I told you about your husband being gay, you said, ‘I knew that already.’”

“So? That’s what’s in the script.”

“No, it’s not. In the script it says, ‘I should have known that.’ Not quite the same, is it?”

“Listen to script girl here, woman,” said Natalie. “Script girl knows.”

And then they were off, the three of them, leaving us all reeling a little, I think, after having granted us this exclusive look into the world of acting royalty.

CHAPTER 29

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Chase had left for his conference and once more Odelia was on her own—though with the appreciated assistance of Max and Dooley. She decided first to call Agatha and tell her the good news about her son, since she had the feeling the woman was anxious about Tucker’s possible involvement in Astra’s death.

She managed to get Agatha on the phone, even though it seemed to take forever, and was struck by how listless and downcast she sounded. Prison wasn’t doing her any favors, as was to be expected, of course.

“I talked to Tucker yesterday,” she announced, “and he told me he was out all night with his friends on the night of the murder.”

There was a momentary silence on the other side, then:“Oh, thank God.”

“I checked and I see no reason to doubt his statement, so I think he’s in the clear.”

She heard the distinct sounds of a woman sobbing, and was satisfied her hunch had proved correct.“Is that why you didn’t defend yourself, Agatha?” she asked softly. “Because you were afraid Tucker might be involved?”

“Yes,” she said finally. “I thought maybe he’d decided to punish the woman he held responsible for his parents’ separation and things had gotten out of hand. Astra could be very cold and caustic, and really drive people up the wall. If Tucker had gone there that night to confront her, andshe had used that attitude on him, who knows what would have happened. He could have flown off the handle and stuck that knife into her in a fit of rage.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, so I guess you have no reason now to sit there in that police station and let Inspector Giblet tell all kinds of nonsense about you.”

“Oscar suggested a lawyer, but I’ve been postponing a meeting to discuss my case.”

“Arrange for that meeting as soon as possible. You need to protest your innocence, Agatha, and the more vigorous the better.”

“Oh, I will,” said the woman gratefully. “And Odelia? Thank you so much.”

“That’s all right. I just wondered why you wouldn’t put up more of a fight, and then I got it. Took me long enough, though, I have to say.”

“Can you give Tucker a message from me?”

“I can do you one better: I told him to go and pay you a visit. I’m sure with the help of your new lawyer, Giblet won’t be able to deny you a visit from your son.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” said Agatha. “I really want to see him.”

“I’ll remind him,” Odelia assured the woman. “Oh, and Agatha—hang in there.”

“I will. Are you any closer to finding out the truth?”

“Not yet, but I have a feeling I’m getting closer.” Slowly but surely. “We almost caught that cat burglar last night, and Barnabas Sheffield thinks he’s our killer.”

“And what do you think?”

She hesitated.“I’m not sure. There’s every chance he’s involved, though. But we have to catch him first, and confront him with the facts.” Which could happen at any moment, if Barney was to be believed. He now had his entire staff scouring the hotel looking for the guy, so it was only a matter of time before they caught him. Unless of course he was a member of that same staff, in which case they might never catch the culprit. “The problem is that knife. Your knife.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s one of the reasons I was so worried about Tucker. Because I gave him that knife as a present.”

“You did?”

“Yes. He was in my room one day and saw it lying around and asked if he could have it. You know what boys are like. They love that kind of stuff.”

“And so he took it?”

“He did, yes. Though I have no idea what he did with it. You’ll have to ask him.”

“Thanks, I will.”

She ended the conversation with a few words of encouragement, and was gratified to discover that already Agatha’s mood was much improved after the good news she’d received.

Her next course of action was to go up to Tucker’s room and give him the message from the young man’s mother.

She was lucky that Tucker was in, though when he came to the door he was looking extremely bedraggled and had clearly been awakened from a deep sleep.

“What is it now?” he asked, stifling a yawn.

He was barefoot, and still in the clothes he’d tumbled into bed with last night—or early this morning, as was probably the case.

“I just talked to your mom,” said Odelia, detecting a powerful whiff of alcohol on the man’s breath. “And she wants you to pay her a visit. She’s going to arrange things with her lawyer so that you’re cleared to go.”

“Oh, that’s great,” said Tucker without much excitement. Clearly this was not the son who would have killed a woman out of anger because she came between his mom and his dad. Tucker apparently couldn’t care less about all of that.

From behind the kid, a woman’s voice now sounded. “Tucker? When are you coming back to bed?”

“Soon!” he yelled back.

“Who are you talking to?” the same voice demanded. “If it’s one of your girlfriends, I’ll—”

“It’s room service. Now go back to bed!”

“Room service?” asked Odelia with a slight grin.

“Hey, she’s great, but she’s also pretty jealous,” he said, then shrugged. “Abandonment issues, what can I say?”

“So are you going to visit your mother? She needs you, Tucker. She hasn’t been coping well being locked up with limited access to her family.”

“Yeah, I’ll visit her,” said Tucker. “The only reason I haven’t is because that Gibber or whatever his name is said I couldn’t.”

“That should all be cleared through the lawyer. He can’t keep Agatha isolated from her next of kin like this. She has a right to see you—and Oscar.”

Tucker rolled his eyes.“Good luck with that. Dad is so busy with his shoot I could be mugged and killed and he probably wouldn’t even notice.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” said Odelia thoughtfully. “He doesn’t seem very concerned about your mom, does he?”

“In Dad’s world everything revolves around himself. He doesn’t give a hoot about anyone else, unless they can bring him more fame and fortune. And a wife in prison is a liability, not an asset, so as far as he’s concerned, she can rot in hell.”

“Baby!” the girlfriend now yelled. “How much longer is this going to take!”

“I’m coming!” he said.

“Oh, one more thing,” said Odelia as Tucker made to close the door on her. “Your mom told me she gave you a knife as a present some time ago.” She took out her phone and showed him the drawing she’d made of the knife, then zoomed in on the dragon. “Do you remember what happened to it?”

He studied the drawing for a few moments, clearly having a hard time getting his foggy brain to function properly.“Um… I think I still have it lying around somewhere. Probably stuck it in a drawer in my room at home.”

“So you didn’t bring it to Paris?”

“Of course not. Why would I want to bring a knife to Paris? Besides, if I had, they’d have confiscated it at the airport. They don’t like people carrying weapons through customs.”

“Not even in your regular luggage?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s possible,” he allowed. “But like I said, I didn’t bring a knife, and definitely not that knife.”

“Maybe your dad brought it?” she insisted.

He laughed.“Dad! He’s terrified of anything that might delay his flight or get him kicked off the plane. He wouldn’t even bring a tube of toothpaste or a tub of lotion and wouldn’t allow me to bring one either. Said they’re stricter here in Europe than they are in the States, which I don’t think is even remotely true.”

“Tucker!” the woman’s voice demanded.

“Gotta go,” Tucker quickly said, and then closed the door.

“Well, looks like he didn’t bring a knife to Paris,” said Max, sitting faithfully at her feet, as was Dooley.

“Why is that knife so important, Odelia?” asked Dooley.

“Because it’s the murder weapon,” said Odelia, “and it’s very distinctive and belonged to Agatha. She got it as a present from the production crew in Morocco.”

“Hopefully someone will be able to produce that knife, and prove once and for all that Agatha didn’t kill Astra,” said Max.

Odelia nodded thoughtfully as she walked away.“I need to get my hands on that forensic evidence,” she said. “Hopefully Chase will be able to use his contacts to get us some results on that front.”

“So what now?” asked Max.

“Now we go back to set, and talk to Oscar.”

“You think he took that knife from his son and brought it to Paris?”

“It’s possible,” said Odelia. “He’s still one of my best suspects, apart from that cat burglar.”

“Yeah, Barney’s theory is all fine and dandy,” said Max. “But that doesn’t explain how a random cat burglar could come into the possession of Agatha’s knife.”

And that, thought Odelia, not for the first time, was the crux of the matter.

CHAPTER 30

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Once again, we were on set. Not to film a particular part, mind you, but simply to interview people, as we like to do. I guess the only way to find out the truth about what happened is to talk to people, and then talk to them again, and hopefully at some point they’ll crack and tell you the truth. Because the ugly truth is that people lie. Some of them because they’re the ones who committed the crime, others because they’ve got something to hide, and some out of sheer habit or because they get confused or forgetful.

Therefore a detective’s main task is to keep digging until they manage to weed out all the lies and confusion and hit the rich vein of truth concealed underneath.

Which is why we were now talking to Oscar Kinetic for the third time since we made the man’s acquaintance. Because Odelia was convinced he hadn’t told us everything.

The creator-writer-producer-director was busy as always, running around the set like a madman, though I was convinced he knew exactly what he was doing, or else he wouldn’t have been able to create such a hot property like theHearts& Roses franchise, and so we were obliged to run after him, trying to keep up.

“He’s like the Energizer Bunny,” said Dooley. “He can’t sit still for one second!”

And he was right. Just looking at the guy made me feel tired already!

“So I talked to your son just now,” said Odelia, as she followed in the man’s wake, as he made his way from the makeup department, where he’d personally overseen the process of getting one of the minor stars ready for his next take, to the street set where the next scene was being prepared by the set designers. “And he told me that he got that knife from his mom as a present.”

“What knife?” the man grunted annoyedly. He’d only agreed to yet another grilling after Odelia had told him she’d managed to convince his wife to take legal advice and talk to the lawyer her husband had arranged for her. For a moment he’d looked somewhere close to grateful, but that moment had long passed.

“The knife that was used to murder Astra.”

Oscar winced at the mention of the word‘murder.’ “Okay, so Agatha gave my son a knife. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It’s exactly this knife that the French police are using to accuse your wife of murder, Mr. Kinetic. So if we can prove that the knife is still at your home in LA, where it always was, it will considerably weaken their case, and maybe blow it out of the water entirely.”

“Okay, fine. So why don’t you go and explain all that to my wife’s lawyer?”

“Well, the thing is that nobody seems to know what happened to the knife. Your wife gave it to Tucker, but Tucker can’t remember what he did with it. He assumes it’s in a drawer somewhere in his room back home, but he can’t be sure. So I was wondering, when was the last time you saw the knife, sir?”

She studied him closely, and so did I. You can always tell when a person is lying. There is a certain tell. It’s to do with the way they pucker up their forehead, you see, when they answer your question. It only lasts for a fraction of a second, but if you look closely, you can sometimes catch it.

So I intently stared at the man’s face now, as he thought for a moment. Then he said, “Didn’t you already ask me about this knife?”

“Yes, but at the time I didn’t know your son had it.”

“Look, I don’t know anything about no knife. Knives are not on my radar. I’m not a knife thrower and I’m not a knife collector either. So will you please stop asking me these stupid questions already and just get my wife out of jail? God!”

“So you didn’t bring the knife to Paris in your luggage?”

“No! Why would I want to bring a knife to Paris! I’m not a hitman for the mob! I don’t need a knife. I don’t want a knife. I got nothing to do with this mess! Now please leave me alone, will you? Can’t you see I’ve got a shoot to run? Buzz off!”

And buzz off he did, setting a new speed record in sprinting away from us, looking even more harried than usual.

“Nice guy,” I said. “Really pleasant.”

“Yeah, but was he lying, you think?” asked Odelia. “I couldn’t tell, to be honest.”

“I couldn’t tell either,” I had to confess. “He’s very good at deflecting, though. He gets upset and starts screaming and by the time you’ve recovered from the shock, there’s no way of knowing if he lied or not.”

“I think he was lying,” said Dooley.

“You do?”

“Oh, absolutely. His face was all scrunched up, so he must have been lying.”

“His face was scrunched up because he was angry. Not because he was lying.”

“Could be both,” said Dooley.

“Yeah, could be both,” I agreed. Which brought us exactly nowhere.

A tall black woman passed us, and Odelia said,“Excuse me. Aren’t you Sukey Gumieniak?”

The woman smiled.“Yes, that’s me. Who wants to know?”

“My name is Odelia Kingsley,” said Odelia. “And I’m investigating the murder of Astra Jacobs on behalf of the owners of the Fritz-Parlton Hotel. Could I talk to you for a moment? I won’t take more than a few minutes of your time, I promise.”

“Oh, sure,” said the woman. She looked around. “Let’s sit over there.” She was pointing to a sidewalk caf?, which looked very cozy and very Parisian indeed. It was part of the set, of course, so not real. But it certainly looked real enough. Even better than real, probably.

“Aren’t we going to be in anybody’s way?” asked Odelia.

“No, no. The shoot isn’t scheduled to start for another hour. So we’ve got time.”

She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, so I didn’t think she had a scene to shoot soon. Though her face was made up, so maybe that T-shirt and jeans were her clothes in the scene.

“Okay, so what did you want to ask me?” asked Sukey, who seemed very nice indeed. Much nicer than her costars at any rate.

“Okay, so I’m trying to get to the bottom of Astra’s murder—”

“Dreadful business. Absolutely terrible,” said the actress, shaking her head. “I didn’t know her personally, but I had huge admiration for her as a person and an actress.”

“You didn’t personally know her?”

“No, we never actually met. Though I would have liked to, of course. She’s one of my absolute heroes. The way she put this show on the map is simply amazing.”

“Yeah, I was a big fan, too,” said Odelia.

“She had such presence, you know. The moment she appeared on screen, your eyes were simply drawn to her. I always thought she was the real star of the show. The one who made it work. Too bad she left when she did.” Then she laughed. “Though I probably should be grateful. If she hadn’t left,I wouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, you’re replacing Astra, aren’t you?”

“Well, not exactly. Astra’s character hasn’t been recast, so I play a completely different character. But I do take her place in the group, that much is true.”

“So you’re part of the foursome now.”

“Yeah. Well, I will be eventually. At first they don’t like me very much. Or at least Amalia doesn’t like my character very much. But over time she accepts me and I become a part of their inner circle, so to speak.”

“The fourth woman.”

“Not exactly. My pronouns are they/them.”

“Oh, so… you’re…”

“Non-binary, yes.” She grinned. “And black. I’m bringing some diversity to the show.”

“Okay,” said Odelia, nodding. “And… how are the others taking it, if I may ask?”

Sukey smiled.“You’re sure you’re not a reporter?”

“No, I mean, yes, I am a reporter, but I’m not working as a reporter right now but as an investigator. So anything you tell me stays between us.”

“Okay…” She hesitated, as she glanced at a crew member who was using a hose to wash down the street. “I have to admit it wasn’t easy at first. I mean, these three women, they’ve been friends for so long, and here I am, an absolute newcomer. I was afraid they wouldn’t accept me, you know. Look at me like I’m some weirdo, or simply cut me out of their clique. But it’s been surprisingly mellow, actually. They’ve been nothing but kind, especially Amalia, but in fact all three of them, and the rest of the team: from Oscar on down. Everybody, really.”

“I noticed they refer to you as ‘she,’ though.”

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to, I guess.”

“Did you know that Astra was going to be at the hotel at the same time as you guys?”

“No, I didn’t. And if I’d known, I would have been happy to meet her, of course. Though I have to admit I probably would have felt slightly intimidated, too.”

“You didn’t think she was in town to negotiate a return toHearts& Roses?”

“A return? No, like I said, I didn’t even know she was in Paris—much less at the Fritz-Parlton.”

“So you didn’t feel threatened that she might get back on the show…”

“And take my part? No, of course not. Like I said, I had no idea she was even here.”

We studied her closely, looking for signs of deception, but I couldn’t find any. Though I should probably say we were studying them, not her.

“I mean, I know what you must be thinking,” Sukey continued. “That I heard about Astra stepping into her old role again, and that the moment she did, I’d get kicked off the show. And that I killed her because of it? To protect my career or something?” She looked incredulous as she said it. “But I can promise you that wasn’t the case. Absolutely not. Okay, so if she was planning a comeback, I would have been pleased—first and foremost as a fan, you know. And secondly, my part was completely different. So I don’t think Oscar would have cut me from the show.”

“But you can’t be sure about that. After all, you said it yourself, Astra was the main star.”

“Yes, but the last time the show aired was years ago. Times have changed. And Oscar told me I’m part of a push to adapt the show to the times. It’s why he hired me in the first place.”

“Okay, so what about the others? I always heard they didn’t exactly get along, Astra and her costars.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Sukey, a little evasively. “I think those are mainly rumors spread by the press to drum up sales for their magazines. Whenever I talk to Amalia or Natalie or Penney about Astra they’ve got nothing but good things to say about her. Wonderful memories to share about their time together.” They smiled. “And I have to say, I love to hear those stories. Like I said, fan first and foremost. Which is why I’m pinching myself every day for being a part of the show.”

“So no acrimony? No bad feelings?”

“No, nothing at all. I mean, all three of them are UNICEF ambassadors, you know. They’re amazing ladies—absolutely amazing, and I admire them just so much.”

“Okay,” said Odelia. “So I’ve got one more question for you, Sukey.”

“I think I know what’s coming,” said Sukey with an infectious grin. “Where was I at the time of Astra’s murder, right? I know the drill. I was a regular on a crime show for three years. I played a detective. So I was in my room, rehearsing my lines, deathly afraid to screw up in front of the others.”

“Can anyone—”

“Vouch for me? No, I’m afraid not. Though I did order room service, so I guess at least that proves I was in my room some of the time. But no, I don’t have a partner at the moment. So I guess you’ll just have to believe me, Mrs. Kingsley.”

Just at that moment, the same traffic warden who’d been trying to serve Amalia with a traffic ticket had returned. He’d ridden his bicycle down the street and was looking left and right for the leading lady.

“Who are you looking for?” Sukey asked.

“Miss Amalia Pulpweed,” said the young warden with the carrot-colored hair. He waved a piece of paper. “I have a parking ticket for her.”

“Just give it to me,” said Sukey. “I’ll pass it on.”

The young man hesitated, but then seemed to understand the wisdom of Sukey’s suggestion and passed her the note. “Thank you so much, Miss…

“It’s Sukey Gumieniak, and I’m not a miss, actually,” they said.

“Oh?” said the young man, confused. Then he smiled. “Mrs. Gumieniak, then. And I must congratulate your husband on his good fortune.”

“I’m not married, actually,” said Sukey.

“Okay…”

“It’s Mx, actually,” said Sukey finally, seeing how uncomfortable the warden was becoming, and wanting to end his misery.

“Mix?”

“That’s right. And you are…”

“Louis de Ferr?. Mr. Louis de Ferr?. And I’m not married either.” His grin widened. “Perhaps I could take you out for a drink, Mx. Sukey?”

“I would like that,” said Sukey, much to our surprise. “Give me your number and I’ll call you.”

And while the two of them got acquainted, we decided to withdraw and lick our proverbial wounds. So far we still hadn’t really hit on anything substantial, and the case seemed as far removed from being solved as before. Or even further, now that we were running out of suspects.

Just as we reached the craft services table, where a lot of fine food was spread out for the cast and crew to fulfill their appetite, Odelia made to put away her notebook and noticed she’d accidentally grabbed a piece of paper along with it.

“Isn’t that…” I said.

“Yeah, it’s the parking ticket,” she said, glancing back to Sukey, who was still chatting with the traffic warden. “I must have grabbed it off the table when I took my notebook.”

“Cheeky,” I said.

“I should probably give this to Amalia.”

“Or you could put it in the trash,” I advised.

She nodded, and then helped herself to a cheese croissant, and us to a few pieces of chicken. I have to say I was extremely grateful, and so was Dooley. I’d developed quite an appetite since breakfast!

CHAPTER 31

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Odelia had arranged to meet Chase at the convention center where his conference was taking place, to have lunch and discuss the case. Or lack thereof.

The convention center was on the other side of town, and on the drive over, Dooley took this opportunity to grill me on a topic that had clearly puzzled him.

“Max? Why did Sukey refer to herself as Mx. Gumieniak and not Mrs. or Miss Gumieniak? Is it because she’s of mixed race?”

“No, it’s because Sukey identifies as non-binary, or so I understood them to say. So Sukey is not a man or a woman but neither.”

“But… how can a person not be a man or a woman? She looked like a woman to me.”

“Yes, but they don’t identify as a woman.”

“But… I don’t understand.”

“It is a pretty complicated subject,” I allowed. “But Sukey clearly feels they are neither, and wants to be addressed thusly.”

“They?”

“Yes, her pronoun isn’t he or she but they. So they were talking to us just now and they clearly took an interest in traffic warden Louis de Ferr?, who identifies as male.”

Dooley took this all in, and so for the next five minutes was quiet as a mouse. Then he said,“Is this like when Brutus thought he wanted to be a dog?”

“Well, something like that, I suppose.” It hadn’t taken long, though. A couple of visits to the dog park and Brutus had decided he wanted to be a cat, after all.

Dooley gave me a curious look.“So how do you think I should identify, Max? As a he or a she or a they?”

“Whatever you think feels best, Dooley.”

More hard thinking ensued, and finally he announced,“I think I like being me.”

“Then just be you, Dooley. That’s fine.”

“Are you going to be you or someone else?”

“I think I’ll be me. I feel fine the way I am.”

“Okay.” Another thought must have occurred to him, for he frowned. “So… do you think Marion is also a they? Or is she a she?”

“I think Marion is a she. Otherwise she would have told us.”

“And what about her boyfriend B?bel? Maybe he’s a they, too?”

“Let’s just wait and see, shall we?”

“I don’t want to see him—ever. Even if he is a she or a them.”

“Of course,” I said. “You don’t have to meet anyone you don’t want to, Dooley.” Though I had a feeling it would be good for him to meet Marion’s significant other. If only to get over this minor or major infatuation he was suffering from. But I decided not to mention any of that. It would only serve to upset him, and I didn’t want that.

At the convention center, Chase had already selected a table at the restaurant, a nice spot near the window, from where we had a great view of the nearby park, where people were busy walking their dogs or themselves.

“And? How did it go on set?” asked Chase the moment we’d taken a seat: the humans on chairs at the table, and Dooley and I on the windowsill.

“Okay, so I talked to Sukey Gumieniak, and they claim they had no idea that Astra was staying at the hotel.”

“They?”

“She identifies as non-binary.”

He nodded.“So you thought Sukey might have felt threatened by Astra—trying to take away her part.”

“Yeah, but they claim that wasn’t the case. Their part was safe, even if Astra would have negotiated her return to the show.”

“But if Astra was planning to return, Amalia might have felt threatened,” said Chase, “since she’s the big star now, in Astra’s absence.”

“Which is exactly what I thought, and of course Amalia doesn’t really have an alibi, and she would have known about the knife.”

“Penney and Natalie don’t have an alibi,” Chase reminded her, “and they might not have wanted Astra to get back on the show either.”

“And then there’s Oscar, who claims he’s never even heard of that knife, which strikes me as odd, since it was a present to his wife.”

“I’m sure lots of presents are exchanged at these shoots, particularly on a show that’s been going for so long.”

Odelia leaned back and studied the menu card for a moment, but clearly it failed to grip, and she put it down again.“At least I got Agatha to take her defense more seriously. Can you believe she wasn’t going to defend herself against these accusations because she was afraid her son might be involved?”

“She thought Tucker was the killer?”

Odelia nodded.“She thought he might have wanted to murder the woman who was coming between his parents. Which, as motives go, is a pretty strong one, actually.”

“But he’s got a solid alibi.”

“Yeah, pretty solid. I spoke with some of Tucker’s friends on the phone, and they confirmed he was out all night. So no dice. Which of course is a good thing.”

They discussed the other suspects: Joonas Harri, who wanted money from his mom, along with his girlfriend Olga. And Maximino and Ippo Murr, who might have had a grudge against his biological mother for abandoning him all those years ago. They had no alibis either. Or at least not a decent one.

And then there was Oscar Kinetic, who may or may not have had an affair with Astra. If the latter was the one who had revealed the affair to Agatha, to put pressure on Oscar, he might have snapped, wanting to avoid a costly divorce and subsequent scandal. Especially now that his hit show was scheduled for a comeback.

“And let’s not forget our Serbian prince,” said Chase.

The food had arrived but the couple were only picking at it, not really all that hungry. Which was good for Dooley and me, because we got plenty of delicious treats from their table, much to the annoyance of our waiter, who didn’t seem to condone this behavior.

“Serbian prince?” said Odelia. “You think he might be our cat burglar after all?”

“Why not? Barney might think being a royal automatically excludes a person from also being a criminal, but I don’t.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“I suggest we go out there again tonight, and this time catch the guy in the act.”

“You want to stake out Prince Durkavic’s suite?”

“Absolutely. I’m convinced he could be our guy, and I intend to prove it.”

“If he is our guy, he’s not going to risk going on another run tonight. After what happened last night, he’ll lay low for a while.”

“Did you see how he waved at me? Pretty sure the guy is as cocky as it gets. And guys like that want to prove they’re invincible. So I’m willing to bet he’ll be out there again tonight, tempting fate and thumbing his nose at us in the process.”

“It’s your call, babe,” said Odelia, who didn’t seem entirely convinced. “But I can tell you right now Barney is not going to like it.”

“He’ll like it a lot less if yet another one of his guests is robbed. So it’s either that or watching me take down his precious prince.” He turned to us. “Are you guys ready for some action?”

I nodded excitedly.“Yes, sir!” The fact that he’d just fed me a fine piece of filet mignon might have contributed to my enthusiasm.

“Oh, and one other thing,” said Chase. “I finally heard back from my guy about those forensic details.”

Odelia sat up a little straighter.“What did he say?”

“Well, the knife was clean. No fingerprints. No DNA. So the person who handled it presumably wore gloves.”

“So Agatha’s prints weren’t on the knife?”

“Nope. Knife was cleaned before being used to kill Astra.”

“Which is a strike against Giblet’s case, for sure?”

“Not necessarily. He’ll argue that she’s as cunning as she is deadly. That this proves she planned the murder, and carefully prepared the murder weapon.”

“She would have to be pretty stupid to use her own knife, though.”

“Maybe she thought nobody would remember. Giblet will argue that she used the knife because it was available. That she didn’t realize how distinctive it was.”

“But wouldn’t the knife have been picked up at the airport when she entered the country?”

“I asked, and it’s perfectly fine to bring knives into the country, provided they’re not in your hand luggage but in your regular checked luggage.”

“But there won’t be any record of her bringing it into the country, will there?”

“Unlikely. Unless her luggage was flagged somehow, and thoroughly checked, but that doesn’t seem to be the case or else my source would have heard about it.”

“I asked Agatha to get a hold of the knife and have it sent here as evidence.”

“What will that prove, though? That knife could be any old knife.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Odelia.

“Knives don’t have a registration number. There’re not registered anywhere.”

Our human sighed deeply.“So I guess we’ve got our hopes set on your Serbian prince?”

“He’s not my prince, babe,” said Chase with a wide grin. “Though I have to say that catching the guy is going to give me a lot of satisfaction. In fact I can’t wait.”

CHAPTER 32

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Because it was his hotel, and his guest, Barney had to give his permission for the operation to proceed as Chase had planned. It took a lot of arguing on Chase’s part, but finally he managed to convince the manager that it couldn’t hurt to take a closer look at the Prince.

“But under no circumstances can Prince Durkavic find out that he is being watched,” said Barney. “If he sees you, abort immediately, is that understood?”

“He won’t see me,” said Chase. “Trust me, Barney. I’ve done this kind of thing before.”

The manager still looked profoundly ill at ease with Chase’s plans. “Imagine if this gets out. My reputation will be ruined! The Parlton family will be outraged!”

“Not if your prince turns out to be a thief,” Chase pointed out.

“Impossible,” Barney snapped. “Blood will tell,Monsieur Kingsley, and royal blood does not engage in such nefarious activities. He is our most honored guest!”

“Yes, well, I have a hunch. And I’m telling you there’s something fishy about that guy.”

“Well, now is your chance to prove it. But be careful!”

And so the long vigil began.

Dooley and I had received our own strict instructions: we were to take up position on the roof, along with Marion, and make sure we covered the entire space. Chase had also outfitted me with a panic button, which I was to press when I caught sight of the burglar. He’d sourced it from Barney. Odelia, meanwhile, was going to sit tight in the room across from the Prince’s suite, and Chase himself was keeping an eye out from the balcony next to the Prince’s balcony, in case the athletic royal took that avenue to commence his nocturnal poaching trip.

“It is impossible,” Barney kept muttering. “Simply out of the question!” But he still agreed to put two of his security people nearby, to nab the man in case he proved to be the burglar, and instructed his security cameras to be closely monitored.

And so it was that Dooley and I found ourselves on the roof again for a third consecutive night, along with Marion.

“Marion?” Dooley asked shyly.

“Yes, Dooley?” Marion said, as she kept a keen eye on all goings-on, which at that moment weren’t any.

“So… are you Mr. Marion, Mrs. Marion, Miss Marion or Mx. Marion?”

She frowned.“Come again?”

“Well, we met a woman this afternoon who said she wasn’t a woman and she wasn’t a man. She was, in fact, neither. And Max explained to me how some people don’t feel comfortable being a man or a woman but are in fact something… else. So now I was wondering if you were also something else, you know?”

She laughed.“No, I’m just a regular pussycat, Dooley.Mademoiselle Marion, if you will.”

“Oh. And your boyfriend? Is he a mix or a mister?”

“No, he’s not a mix, either. He isMonsieur B?bel.”

“Oh, okay.” It was hard to tell whether he was disappointed or not, but I guess it didn’t really matter much.

“He’s coming home tomorrow, you know. Can’t wait to see him again. One week may not sound like much, but it’s too long as far as I’m concerned,” said Marion, showing us her romantic streak for once.

Dooley nodded seriously.“Yes, I can see that,” he said. “I couldn’t imagine Max being away from home for such a long time either.”

“Oh,” said Marion, looking from me to Dooley. “So you two… are an item?”

“No!” I said with a laugh. “Just friends.”

“What is an item?” asked Dooley.

“A couple,” I said.

Dooley’s eyes went wide. “Why would Max and I be a couple? We’re both misters.”

“Sometimes misters can be a couple, too, Dooley,” I said.

He stared at me.“I don’t understand.”

“It’s true,” said Marion. “Men can be with men, and women with women.”

“Huh,” said Dooley, and he looked slightly stunned at this revelation.

“It’s a fascinating world out there, isn’t it, Dooley?” said Marion with a wink in my direction.

“I guess so,” said my friend, as he processed this information. It was proving to be a fascinating day for him, full of new and exciting facts. I could see his mind buzzing. When we got home, he was sure to tell Harriet and Brutus all about it.

But the time for idle and pleasant stakeout conversation was at an end, for a dark figure was stalking across the roof, coming from the direction of the entrance to the staff wing. Marion saw him first, and hunkered down, lowering her voice.“He’s here! Look! Over there!”

“Chase was right!” I said. “He said he’d come out again and he did!”

The figure was slowly making his way across the roof, glancing left and right as he did, and proceeding in the direction of the side of the roof, where he could easily lower himself onto any of the balconies on that side, and gain entrance to the rooms of the well-paying and well-heeled guests.

“We better give them the sign,” I said, and pressed the panic button. It would sound an alarm on Chase’s phone, so he’d know something was going down.

Mere moments after I’d pressed the button, Chase and Odelia walked out of the bulkhead, the structure that covers the main staircase to the roof, followed by two burly men, whom I assumed were part of the hotel’s security team.

Odelia glanced over to us, and I gestured in the direction of the burglar, who was at that moment extending a rope so he could lower himself over the edge.

“Stop!” Chase immediately bellowed, but the man, instead of following instructions, simply jumped into the void!

We all hurried over to see where he’d disappeared to, and I saw he was on the lower balcony, yanking one of the windowed doors to get in.

But Chase was quicker, and without delay jumped down, right on top of the guy, dragging him down to the balcony floor.

For a few moments a violent struggle ensued, the man giving as good as he got, but then inside the room the lights came on, the window was opened, and Barney appeared, accompanied by more of his security people.

“Stop!” the vertically challenged manager bellowed. “Stop this now!”

The burglar knew the gig was up and he finally surrendered.

Barney stepped out onto the balcony, regarded the black-clad figure sternly, balanced on his tippy-toes, reaching out for the man’s mask, and yanked it off.

“Mais non!” the manager gasped, reeling back. “C’est pas possible!”

For it was none other than… Jermaine Durkavic himself!

“Prince Durkavic!” Barney gasped in shock. He swayed back and had to be supported by a member of his team. “Mon cherprince!”

“I want to lodge a formal protest against this ruffian,” said the prince, referring to Chase, who was holding onto him like a clam. “I was just out for an evening stroll when all of a sudden this man jumped me and started beating me up!”

“Cut the crap, buster,” said Chase. “We know you’re the cat burglar who’s been terrorizing this hotel for weeks.”

“I have called the police,” Barney announced, holding up his phone.

“Good!” said the Prince. “I will state my case. Let’s see who they believe: a royal and member of one of Europe’s most prominent families, or a hoodlum!”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Chase, escorting the man into the hotel. “Save it for the judge.”

“But,Monsieur Kingsley,” said Barney. “Are you sure?”

“Just look at him,” said Chase. “How many people go out for a stroll on a hotel roof? And check his outfit.” He pointed to the balaclava the man was wearing.

“I have allergies,” said the Prince haughtily. “I have to protect myself every time I leave my room. You don’t want to know how polluted the atmosphere is in these big cities.”

“And what about this?” said Chase, holding up a black backpack the man had been wearing.

“Not that it’s your business, but I’m diabetic. I like to take a sugary snack when I go out.”

“So why is there no snack in your backpack?”

“Because I ate it. You will find the crumbs at the bottom.”

Dooley studied the man intently.“Do you think he’s a Mix, Max? Mx. Prince?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “Though it’s always possible, of course.”

I would have said more, but at that moment Inspector Giblet arrived.

Chase had plunked his suspect down on the bed, where the Prince now sat, looking supercilious and slightly annoyed at being inconvenienced like this.

The moment he caught sight of Inspector Giblet, though, it seemed as if suddenly the wind went out of the Prince’s sails, and he deflated completely.

“Well, well, well,” said Giblet with a grin. “If it isn’t Jacques Cunningham.”

“Who?” asked Barney.

“He calls himself Jacques Cunningham,” the Inspector explained, “though his real name is Gilbert Franck. Gilles for his friends and fellow lowlifes.”

“But… He is Jermaine Durkavic, surely,” said Barney. “Prince of Serbia? Son of the last king of Serbia? He will take his rightful place on the throne one day.”

“Oh, that’s a new one, isn’t it, Gilles?” said the Inspector. “Prince of Serbia, no less.” He turned to the hotel manager. “This man is as much a prince as I am, Barney. So what did he do this time, apart from impersonating a prince?”

“He has been breaking into several of my guests’ rooms,” said Barney, looking totally stunned by this unexpected development.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Giblet. “Up to his old tricks again. Well, let’s go, Gilles. You know the routine by now.”

“And everything was going so well,” said the thieving ‘prince.’ “Until that stupid policeman started sticking his big fat nose in.”

“He sounds a lot less like a prince already,” Dooley remarked.

“Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?” I said.

“Just a moment,” said Odelia. “We think this man may also be responsible for the murder of Astra Jacobs.”

“Astra Jacobs,hein? But we already have a suspect in custody for that.”

“Yes, but I believe you’ve arrested the wrong person,” said Odelia.

The Inspector frowned.“So how about it, Gilles? Have you added murder to your impressive repertoire?”

“Murder! Me! You must be joking! Murder is not my bag,Inspecteur.”

“He doesn’t have form for murder, that’s true,” said Giblet, rubbing his chin. “Plenty of other nastiness, but murder? No.”

“But it must have been him,” Odelia insisted.

“Not me,” said the hardened criminal. “I promise you,Inspecteur Giblet.”

“Mh,” said Giblet.

“You don’t believe him, do you, Inspector?” Odelia insisted. “The man is a thief and a liar. And he’s lying right now.”

“No, I am not,” said Gilles virtuously. “It is not in my nature to lie.”

“Yeah, right,” said Chase, giving the man a slight shove.

“That’s enough of that,” said Giblet. “I’m inclined to believe you, Gilles, but only because I know you. You’re not the killer type. And besides,” he added for Odelia’s sake, “I already have Astra Jacobs’s killer locked up.”

“But Agatha is innocent!” Odelia insisted.

“So you say,” said the inspector, but he clearly wasn’t believing Odelia’s story that Gilbert Franck was the actual killer.

“The killer of Astra Jacob is this man!”

“No, it’s not,” said Gilles.

“Yes, it is! Two nights ago you snuck into her room and killed her!”

“Two nights ago, you say? I wasn’t even in Paris that night. I was—” But he immediately regretted his words, for he abruptly shut his mouth with a click.

“Yes?” said the Inspector, eyeing him keenly. “Go on. You know you’re going to tell me the truth sooner or later.”

The career criminal rolled his eyes.“Oh, okay. So I was in Orl?ans.”

“For a visit to your sister?”

The man’s eyes widened. “How did you know! That is exactly right.”

“Nonsense. Your sister doesn’t want to have anything to do with you.”

“That is not true!” Then he caught the steely look on the Inspector’s face, and relented. “Okay, so maybe it is true. But that is not my fault, is it? She believes I am a criminal, even though I have told her I am merely an enterprising businessman.”

“So what were you really doing out there, Gilles?”

“Fine, so I was casing a house. A friend of mine said he had this great job lined up, but it needed an expert to figure out how to get in and out of the place.”

“And that’s where you came in.” He turned to his audience. “Gilles is known as Mr. Invisible. He can get in and out of any place undetected. It’s a rare gift.”

“Thanks,Inspecteur,” said Gilles, well pleased with this compliment from an unsuspected source.

“Now if only you’d use that gift to do something useful for a change.” He addressed Odelia. “I’ll make sure to check his story, Mrs. Kingsley. But if he really was doing a job in Orl?ans two nights ago he can’t be our killer, now can he?”

“So at least he’s in the clear for that,” Chase said, nodding.

“Oh, this is just hopeless,” said Odelia, throwing up her hands. “Just when we think we’ve got our guy, he goes and produces the perfect alibi!”

“Yes, that is me,” said Gilles with a grin. “The man with the perfect alibi.”

“Except you’re going to jail for… how many breakins, Barney?”

“Four that I know of,” said Barney, still recovering from the shock.

“Four burglaries, Gilles. Do you hear that? Looks like you’re going away for a while.”

“Now that is a shame,” said Gilles, and allowed himself to be led away by his arresting officer.

“Wait!” Barney cried. “Who’s going to pay for his suite! And his expenses!”

Inspector Giblet turned.“Write it off, Barney. That money is gone, my friend.”

“Oh, mon dieu!” Barney lamented, his manager’s heart crying bitter tears.

CHAPTER 33

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“I don’t understand,” said Odelia. “Marion said she saw the cat burglar enter Astra’s room. So he can’t have been in Orl?ans.”

“Unless there are two cat burglars,” Chase said.

We were back in our room with our humans, discussing the dramatic end to our case. Or rather, the implosion of the case, since now it appeared as if this Gilles Franck had nothing to with Astra’s murder after all.

“Okay, so how do you know whether a person is a man or a woman or neither?” said Dooley, who clearly had his own troubles to deal with. “Sukey looked like a woman to me, but if she says she’s not a woman, I guess we have to accept that. Only how are we to know?”

“That’s why she said it,” I explained. “Otherwise we’d make the mistake of addressing her as a woman while she doesn’t want that, see.”

He clearly didn’t see, but that was all right.

Odelia was right, though. The case was at a dead end, more puzzling than before. She thought she had her killer, and Agatha would be freed, but now things looked just as bleak as before. Bleaker, even, for now there was no more hope.

“Dang it,” Chase grumbled, and lightly kicked the wastepaper basket. It toppled over and its contents spilled out across the carpet.

Amalia Pulpweed’s parking ticket, that Odelia had tossed, rolled to a stop between my paws. On the television, which stood blaring away in the living room, a story about the American ambassador to France was playing, the ambassador and his wife attending the opening of an exhibition of splendorous Louis XVI gems.

And suddenly, as I stared down at the little piece of paper, which I’d absentmindedly straightened with my paw, an idea hit me. It was an outrageous idea, of course, but an idea nonetheless. And as I subsequently gave myself up to thought, somehow all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, one after the other.

As I came out of my reverie, I saw that Dooley was staring at me intently.

“You had an idea, didn’t you, Max?” he said.

I nodded.

“You know who did it, don’t you?”

“I nodded again.

“So who was it?”

I told him, and he gasped.“No way.”

I sighed.“And now to prove it. That’s always the hard part.”

“It’s your big brain again, isn’t it, Max? You always figure it out eventually.”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure yet,” I warned him. “I mean, I could totally be wrong. It is a crazy assumption.” But somehow I didn’t think so. It just fit.

And so I tripped up to Odelia, and told her what I’d just discovered. She was as surprised as Dooley, but agreed that I might have hit upon something potentially interesting. And when she told Chase, he said he’d get on it straight away.

A lot of things still needed to be done before we could tell Inspector Giblet what we thought happened that fateful night in Astra’s room.

And this time, hopefully, he would believe us.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

Oscar Kinetic was sleeping peacefully in his bed. It had been another hectic day on set. As usual, everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong, but in the end they’d managed to get some good stuff in the can, and that’s all that mattered.

He’d made the necessary preparations for tomorrow, and had finally turned in at around two o’clock, satisfied that there wasn’t anything else he could do.

And so he slept well, safe in the knowledge that perhaps the most important shoot of his life was well in hand, and proceeding more or less according to plan.

As usual, he slept with a sleeping mask and earplugs, and therefore didn’t notice when an hour into his peaceful slumber the window of his room was pushed open, and a dark-clad figure stepped in and took a moment to get their bearings. When finally they moved again, it was with purposeful step, in the direction of the bedroom where Oscar lay sleeping.

The person lowered their backpack, and took out a sizable knife. It glimmered in the moonlight spilling in through the window, and as the figure approached the bed, they held the knife high, ready to plunge it into the restful figure on the bed.

Standing there, poised over Oscar’s inert form, for a moment the intruder seemed to waver, as if gauging the pros and cons of their actions. But finally taking a decision, a powerful hand was drawn back, and then came down with great force, driving the knife deeply into the sleeping figure.

Up again, the knife came, and was driven again and again into the lifeless form.

Then, as if surmising something was amiss, the killer suddenly yanked back the covers, and gasped in abject shock when discovering that what they thought was Oscar Kinetic’s sleeping form, was in fact a tightly packed bundle of mere rags, designed and placed there to resemble the director.

And before the would-be murderer could flee, all the lights came on at once, bathing the bedroom in bright light, and a cry of terror escaped their lips.

From behind the curtains, Chase and Odelia Kingsley stepped, and also Barnabas Sheffield. The door to the bathroom swung open, and out walked more people: officers of the law this time, chief amongst them Inspector Daniel Giblet.

The latter stepped forward, taking charge of the situation, and grunted,“Let’s see what we’ve got here, shall we?”

With a swift movement of his hand, he removed the killer’s black mask.

Before them stood Amalia Pulpweed, who now collapsed on the bed.

The actress cried bitter tears, for she knew her life was over.

CHAPTER 34

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Our Paris adventure had come to an end, and we were safely back in Hampton Cove. Not only that, but we were in Tex and Marge’s backyard, enjoying Odelia’s dad’s cooking. He was manning the grill, generously throwing patties and sausages onto the red-hot device, and generally behaving much like the Swedish chef from theMuppet Show. Some of the patties ended up where they were supposed to be, others found their way onto the smooth lawn below, where the neighbor’s dog Rufus disposed of them almost as quickly as they were discarded.

Dooley, Harriet, Brutus and myself were reposing on the porch swing, while the humans had taken place around the garden table, intently listening to Odelia and Chase as they told the tale of their big Paris case.

“I thought you were going over there to relax and enjoy the scenery!” said Marge. “If I’d known you were going to play detective again, I would never have sprung for that extra plane ticket.”

“And I would never have sprung for your hotel,” Uncle Alec grumbled.

“Oh, it’s fine, you guys,” said Odelia. “We still managed to see plenty of Paris, in between catching a killer.”

“And a cat burglar,” said Chase. “Let’s not forget about the cat burglar.”

“Who at first you thought was the killer, if I understand your story correctly,” said Gran, who was helping herself to a large helping of potato salad.

“Actually it was the hotel manager who thought the cat burglar was also the killer,” said Odelia.

“And what did you think?” asked her dad, as he set a plate of burger patties on the table.

“Well, I have to confess I didn’t have a clue. All I knew was that Agatha couldn’t have done it, but I had to prove it to the French police. Who was convinced that she was the killer.”

“But at the end of the day it was actually Max who figured it out?” said Uncle Alec’s girlfriend Charlene as she took a sip from her lemonade.

“Yeah, it was Max who figured it out,” said Odelia, giving me a little wave.

“As usual,” said Harriet next to me.

“How did you figure it out, Max?” asked Brutus.

“Well, I think it was a concatenation of circumstances, actually,” I said. I’d eaten my fill, and I was quite content now just to lie there and expound on my theories.

“You mean you had a hunch,” said Brutus, arching a critical eyebrow.

“Yeah, something like that,” I confessed. “You see, we knew the case revolved around the knife that was used to murder Astra. Only the knife couldn’t possibly be Agatha’s. I mean, why would she kill Astra with her own knife—a knife that could have easily been recognized as belonging to her? That didn’t make sense.”

“So where did that knife come from?” asked Harriet.

“The knife was actually bought by Amalia Pulpweed in a little shop in Paris. You see, every time Amalia traveled abroad, she had gotten into the habit of visiting all these quaint antique shops and picking up rare gems for her collection. So when she was in this small shop one day, about a week before shooting was scheduled to commence, she caught sight of this particular knife. Which looked exactly like the knife Agatha had once received as a present during a shoot.”

“And she remembered that knife?” asked Harriet.

“Yes, she did. Because she’d been the one who bought the knife in Morocco that time. Amalia always had a penchant for antiques and other rare gems, even back then, and so that time when they were all in Morocco was no different.”

“Or this time in Paris,” Harriet supplied.

“So that’s when she got the idea to frame Agatha for Astra’s murder.”

“But why murder Astra?” asked Brutus. “Just because she didn’t like her?”

“Oh, no. It went much deeper than that. Astra had been blackmailing Amalia, Natalie and Penney for years, and Amalia was finally fed up. In fact the blackmailing business was the reason Astra was in Paris: she enjoyed rubbing it in the others’ faces every time she received another one of their payments.”

“But what did Astra know that she could use against her former costars?”

“Diamond smuggle,” I said. “Amalia, Natalie and Penney were ambassadors for UNICEF, and as such spent a great deal of time traveling back and forth between Africa, the States and Europe. And each time they were over there, they brought back with them a nice stash of rare blood diamonds, whichthey then handed over to Oscar, who had a network of dealers in Europe, though mainly in Paris, that he could sell to. And that’s how the four of them funded their lavish lifestyle.”

“And Astra wasn’t part of this diamond smuggling ring?”

“No, she wasn’t. But she knew about it. She must have found out at some point. Or maybe they offered her to join in, but she refused. And so I’m guessing they paid her a small stipend to keep her quiet, and then when she left the show, the amounts she was demanding in exchange for her silencekept on growing in proportion to her financial needs.”

“And so Amalia decided this had to stop.”

“Yes, she did. The show was going to get launched again, and a lot of money was coming their way, and she refused to hand over a big chunk of it to Astra, whom she had always disliked.”

“But I thought they said they loved her?” said Dooley.

“They lied,” I said dryly. “They never got on very well, and the feeling was entirely mutual. Which is why she dropped out of the show when she did.”

“But why frame Agatha? Did Amalia hate her, too?” asked Harriet.

“I think she framed her just because she could, not because she disliked her. If the knife could be traced back to Agatha, and Amalia thought it would, and she could lure Agatha to Astra’s room, the police would have no other option but to arrest her and charge her with murder.”

“But what if Agatha had been able to produce the original knife?”

“She couldn’t. Curtis lost that knife a long time ago, and he’d confessed as much to Amalia, begging her not to tell his mom. So that knife was long gone.” I was thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe initially Amalia had decided to look for a similar knife to the one Agatha had been gifted, only when she found it in that little shop, she hit upon an even better idea: getting away with murder.”

“Okay, so how did you figure it out, Max?” asked Brutus. “And how did you catch that devious woman?”

“The parking ticket was the first clue,” I said. “It had the name of a street on it, but also, and more importantly, Louis de Ferr? had scribbled the name of the shop in front of which Amalia’s rented car had been parked:Andr?e Antiques.And since a story about an ambassador was playing on TV at the time, and Sukey had told us that day how much she admired the fact that Amalia and her two costars were UNICEF ambassadors, suddenly an interesting thought popped into my head.”

“It always does, doesn’t it? With you, anyway. With me? Not so much.”

“I’d recently heard some story on the news about a ring of diamond smugglers, you see, and also, Agatha had shown us the ring she’d received from her husband. A very expensive diamond ring. She said she’d sell it to pay her divorce lawyer. So I got to thinking. Who better to smuggle diamonds than UNICEF ambassadors? These are rich and famous celebrities, who can go places others can’t. Places like Africa, with its diamond mines. And famous stars rarely risk being frisked at airports. Or they can travel in their own private planes.”

“And even if they do get frisked, they could say they’re their diamonds.”

“Exactly. The main thing is that it got me a possible motive for Astra’s murder. And also for her presence there in Paris, at the exact same time as her former costars and Oscar.”

“But I thought Astra was having an affair with Oscar?” asked Harriet.

“That’s something Amalia cooked up. Oscar had a brief fling with Astra, but that was years ago.”

“But the pictures Agatha got on her phone?”

“Doctored. None of that was real. And a closer look at those pictures revealed as much. But of course since Inspector Giblet thought he had his murderer, he didn’t bother to look. At least not until Chase asked him to. And that’s when one after another, the whole house of cards came tumbling down. The knife that was bought at the shop—proven by CCTV footage taken from the shop, showing that Amalia had indeed bought it that day. The pictures of Astra and Oscar—doctored. The message sent from Astra’s phone to Agatha, asking her to come to her room—sent by Amalia, after she’d already murdered her blackmailer and former rival.”

“And how did you get Amalia to try and murder Oscar?” asked Brutus.

“Well, that wasn’t difficult. We just sent her a message, supposedly from Oscar, that he was ready to talk to the police about the diamonds. That he couldn’t live in fear of capture anymore, especially with his wife in jail, and he was going to confess and he advised her to do the same thing and pray for clemency.”

“And so she had to shut him up.”

“Yes, otherwise the murder of Astra would have been for nothing. And also, she had a feeling he knew about the murder and suspected that she might be behind it. Oscar might have behaved callously, but I think he does love his wife. In his own special way.”

“He didn’t show it,” said Dooley.

“No, he didn’t,” I said. “But he did arrange for a good lawyer. One of the best. And he did work behind the scenes to get Agatha out of a pickle. But he also needed his show to work. He wanted another hit to his name.”

“So maybe he was thinking about dropping the diamond smuggling business?” asked Brutus.

“I think so. Now, of course, he’s going to prison himself, and so are Natalie and Penney.”

“And the show?” asked Harriet anxiously. “Don’t tell me there won’t be a new season of the show, Max.” She thumped me in the chest. “There has to be a new season!Hearts& Roses is only my favorite show ever!”

“There will be a new season,” I said.

“Thank the Lord!”

“But with completely new characters. And Sukey Gumieniak will take the lead.”

“She’s the woman who’s not a woman,” Dooley supplied helpfully.

“What are you talking about, Dooley?” asked Brutus. “How can a woman not be a woman?”

“It’s a new age,” Dooley said with a nod in my direction. “Women aren’t women and men aren’t men but something in between. And men can be with men and women can be with women and the inbetweeners can be with the inbetweeners and every other combination possible.” He smiled. “They like to mix it up, you see. Oh, and we finally met B?bel, and he’s nice. I think I like him.”

“Who’s B?bel?” asked Harriet.

“What are you talking about?” asked Brutus. “How can a woman not be a woman, and who are these inbetweeners?”

“Yes, and why,” Harriet demanded heatedly, “isn’t Amalia Pulpweed going to be inHearts& Roses anymore?”

“Because she’s in jail for murder and diamond smuggle,” I told her.

“This is all your fault, Max!” she cried. “You ruined my favorite show!”

“I’m sorry, all right! But she’s a murderer!”

“So what? Nobody’s perfect!”

And then she was off in a huff, stared after by her mate Brutus.“Where is she going?” he asked. “Sparkie star? Where are you going?”

“Watching reruns ofHearts& Roses, with the one and only Amalia Pulpweed!”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Are you coming or not?”

Brutus winced.“Oh, dear. I hateHearts& Roses. It’s so boring!”

“Then don’t go,” I said. “Tell her you’ll join her later, and then don’t.”

“Good advice! Snow pea! I’ll join you later!”

“Don’t be too long!” she hollered back, and then she was gone.

“Phew. Narrow escape,” said Brutus. “Now tell me about this Marion you were talking about, Dooley. In fact, tell me all. So she was pretty, was she?”

“The prettiest girl in all the world,” said Dooley with a wistful smile. “But B?bel—”

“Don’t mention B?bel. Not just yet,” said Brutus. “First tell me more about Marion.”

“Well, it all started the day we arrived, you see. There she was, looking at us from behind the reception desk. She had green eyes. Or chocolate eyes. Or no, green eyes…” He frowned. “Max? What color were Marion’s eyes? I don’t think I ever got a good look at her in the daytime, now that I think of it.”

“She had green eyes,” I said.

“So there she was, looking at us from behind the reception desk, and suddenly I felt hot, you know. As if the temperature in the room was raised a few degrees?”

“I like the story already,” said Brutus, settling in for the duration. “Tell me more.”

And so Dooley told us more. A lot more. Then again, since I’d actually lived the story, I soon fell asleep. Oddly enough I dreamed not of sausages and burger patties and chicken nuggets, as I usually do, but about a Parisian cat with green eyes and a saucy smile… Odd, that. Especially since my name isn’t even B?bel.