Purrfect Revenge

Chapter 11

While Odelia and Chase went off to interview the two leading ladies of Cirque du Kenspeckle, Dooley and I decided to abandon our perch and do some more snooping around. Earn our kibble, if you know what I mean.

The big advantage of being a cat is that we’re pretty much invisible. We can stalk around and people will simply pat our heads and go on discussing their latest killing spree or plot a fresh massacre without a care in the world. That’s why we’re the world’s best spies. Well, flies would make even better spies, I suppose, as they can, you know, buzz around from suspect to suspect. But I’ve never heard of a fly living long enough to tell its tale to its human owner. Even supposing flies have human owners, of course, which I don’t think they have. Flies don’t provide as much warmth and affection as cats do.

We wandered about the house, and our first port of call was the kitchen. I think we were both curious to see what kind of food Kane was being fed.

The kitchen was an all-white, very spacious affair, with a gigantic butcher block in the center, and all the usual gleaming appliances occupying the enormous space. You could film a cooking show here. Maybe they did. We followed our noses, and padded into what looked like a mudroom, with coats on racks and boots neatly placed beneath them. And there it was: a placemat with two large bowls. We eagerly trotted up, and I have to say I was disappointed to find both bowls empty. Fortunately for Kane the Kenspeckles had invested in a Drinkwell. I wasn’t thirsty, though, and neither was Dooley.

“No food?” he asked.

“Looks like.”

“How is that even possible?!”

I was starting to feel sorry for the annoying little yapper. First his human was murdered by some maniac with a meat cleaver, then he'd been attacked by a feral cat, and chased around the pool by a violent intruder, and now, to add insult to injury, the Kenspeckles had forgotten to feed him.

“Looks like Kane has a lot to complain about,” said Dooley.

“Yeah, a thing like this would never happen in our home.”

We shared a look of understanding. Odelia’s place might not be the palatial house the Kenspeckles could afford, but at least she’d never forgotten to feed us, and neither had her mom or Gran. In that sense, we had it made.

“Come to gloat?” suddenly a raspy voice asked.

We turned in surprise, and saw that Kane sat glaring at us.

“Oh, no,” I said. “Far from it. Just curious to see how the other half lives.”

“The other half lives rottenly,” he said, and I noticed he spoke with a lisp, as if he had a speech impediment. Or maybe all dogs spoke like that. I wouldn’t know. I rarely move in canine circles. I’m strictly a feline person.

“Yeah, I can see that,” I said. “They forgot to feed you, didn’t they?”

He plunked down on his haunches and stared at us a little wearily.

“Shana used to feed me, but I guess that’s over now. She died, you know.”

“Yeah, we know,” said Dooley.

“That’s why we’re here,” I said. “We’re investigating her murder.”

“Trying to figure out whodunnit,” Dooley added, in case it wasn’t clear.

Kane nodded forlornly. “She was a good human. Always bought me the best food and allowed me to sleep on the bed. Took me everywhere, she did. Hong Kong, the Bahamas, Europe… We traveled the world together.”

"That's nice," I said, for lack of a better response. I didn't care a hoot about traveling. I'm something of a homebody. Traveling gives me the willies.

“So what happened to your friend?” he asked. “The one that’s been chasing me all over the place?”

“Oh, he’s not our friend,” I hastened to say. “More an acquaintance.”

“Brutus has this theory,” Dooley said. “He wants you to confirm it.”

“Theory? What theory?”

“Well, that your human was killed by a huge, ferocious dog.”

“A dog that bit her head off,” I added helpfully.

“He thinks the Kenspeckles are hiding this dog in the basement, afraid the police will find out and accuse them of being assassins to murder.”

“Accessories,” I corrected him. “Accessories to murder.”

Kane stared at us for a moment, then frowned. He looked even sadder than usual, and bulldogs have a pretty sad face to begin with. "I always knew cats were nuts," he said. "But now I finally have proof. You two are cuckoo."

“Oh, no. We don’t believe any of Brutus’s ideas either,” said Dooley.

“You don’t?” This seemed to surprise the bulldog.

“No, we think he’s cuckoo, too,” I said. “I mean, no dog can produce a bite force of enough pounds of pressure to sever the human spinal cord.” I laughed. “They’d need jaws of steel to accomplish such a feat.” Dooley and Kane were staring at me, so I was quick to add, “I watch the Discovery Channel. MythBusters? Such a great show. If you’re into that kind of thing, of course.” Which Dooley and my new canine friend obviously weren’t.

“I still don’t get what that’s got to do with me,” said Kane.

“Brutus figures you and this nonexistent Jaws of Steel are buddies, seeing as you’re both dogs and all, and he hopes you’ll squeal on your chum.”

The bulldog’s frown deepened, and now he actually looked like Tommy Lee Jones having a bad day. “He’s crazy,” he said curtly.

“Pretty much our opinion as well,” I said.

“He is crazy,” Dooley confirmed.

“And dangerous. He said he was going to cut me. He’s a menace.”

“Yeah, well, his meow is worse than his bite,” I said.

“If you have to know, I’m the only dog on the premises. There are no other pets allowed in the house—though it’s obvious the Kenspeckles are slacking on the rules now that Shana’s gone. She always said I was her one and only Kenspeckle prince, and she wanted to keep it that way. She got me endorsement deals, and was prepping me for my own TV show, debuting in the fall. Damien was even designing a collection for me. My own fashion line. He was calling it Kane’s Kraze.” He sighed and plunked his head down on his paws, looking sad. “All gone now. No Shana. No TV show. No fashion line.”

“What about the other Kenspeckles?” I asked, feeling sorry for the dog.

“Yeah, I’ll bet they’ll adopt you now,” said Dooley.

He lifted his shoulders in an almost imperceptible shrug. “I liked Shana. She was the sweetest of the bunch.” He licked his snout with his long, pink tongue. “You see what’s happening, don’t you? The minute Shana’s gone they forget about me. I’m going to starve to death in this place. I’ll be forced to fend for myself. Forage for food in the Hampton Cove jungle. Survive.”

“We don’t have a jungle in Hampton Cove,” I said. “Only a park.”

“And a forest. But that’s where Clarice rules,” Dooley added.

“The cat that tried to cut you,” I clarified.

He groaned. “I’m doomed.”

“You’re not doomed. You’re a celebrity,” I said. “You’ve got fan clubs, an Instagram page, Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat. Literally millions of fans.”

“I do? I didn’t even know. I guess Shana set all that up in my name.”

“What I mean is that you’ll be well taken care of. You’re an icon, Kane.”

This perked him up a little. At least his ears were pointing up again.

“Yeah, the Kenspeckles aren’t going to let anything happen to you,” Dooley said.

“They almost did. They allowed this crazy cat to chase me around the pool about a billion times and then do a death leap into the pool. Good thing Boa was there, or I might have drowned.”

“Boa?” I asked.

“Stanbury Boa. Bodyguard. He runs the security detail that protects the Kenspeckles.”

“And he’s probably going to get fired,” Dooley muttered.

He was right. Bodyguards get fired when the bodies they're hired to guard are found dead. I wondered why the ax hadn't fallen yet on Boa's employment.

“I’m sure they’re all a little preoccupied right now,” I told Kane. “What with the murder and all. Speaking of murder, we have it from a usually reliable source that you actually witnessed the murder? Is that true?”

He nodded sadly. “Yeah, I was there. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a killer dog that did it. It was a human. Not that I mind humans slaughtering each other. I mean, it’s what they do. But they shouldn’t slaughter my human.”

“I guess,” I said dubiously. I didn’t agree with him, though. All the humans I knew were pretty great, and they would definitely not slaughter other humans. But I guess I could see where he was coming from.

“You know, I don’t even want to know. It’s all so very troubling.”

“But you can confirm that the killer was a masked intruder, right?”

“Yeah. A masked intruder with a big meat cleaver. And now can you please just leave me alone so I can properly wallow in my misery? This is quickly turning into the worst day of my entire life.”

“All right, Kane,” I said, walking over and patting him on the back, being careful not to use my claws. “I’m sorry for your loss, buddy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Save it for the funeral. Oh, and when you see that deranged friend of yours? Tell him that if he ever comes near me again…” He hesitated, thinking hard. Then his face cleared. “Tell him I’ll sic my killer dog friend with the jaws of steel on him, and he’ll devour him in one chomp.”

Dooley was surprised. “I thought you said the killer dog didn’t exist?”

Kane grinned. “Well, he doesn’t know that, does he?”

Which just goes to show even dogs have a measure of intelligence.

Dooley and I stalked off, leaving Kane to feel sorry for himself.

“I kinda dig that dog,” said Dooley. “He’s goofy but nice.”

“Yeah, he’s all right, as dogs go,” I said noncommittally.

“A little sad, though.”

"Which is to be expected. If Odelia were killed I'd be sad, too."

“You’d still have me and Harriet and Marge and Gran and Dr. Poole.”

“True, but Kane has the rest of the Kenspeckles and he’s still sad.”

Kane had Shayonne, Shalonda, Shantel, Sandy, Steel, Camille and Starr Kenspeckle to take care of him. Obviously they were no match for Shana.

We wandered out of the kitchen and down the corridor to the suite of bedrooms. At the end, the corridor took a left turn, ending in an airy and light atrium, where a flight of stairs led down into a basement, and up to the second floor. Voices drifted up to us, so we decided to go and take a look.

“Hey, this might lead to the underground dungeon where the Kenspeckles keep their killer dog,” said Dooley.

“We’ve established that, that dog is a figment of Brutus’s imagination, Dooley.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot. Still, it would be pretty cool if was real, huh?”

“I don’t think so. A dog like that—if it did exist—would eat us for breakfast. Literally. And I don’t know about you, but I value my life.”

All nine of them, actually. We trotted down the stairs and found ourselves in a pretty neat space. Several rooms led off a center hallway. The signs on the doors announced this was where we could find a bar, a game room, an office, a library, and even a nightclub.

“Hey, this is way cool,” said Dooley.

“Yeah, like a playhouse for grownups.”

As we neared the end, the voices became louder, and we saw that we’d arrived at the Spa & Wellness Center. The glass door was a little steamed up, and I pushed it open with my paw. We found ourselves in a darkened space, wall sconces casting a dim light, soft new age music providing a meditative atmosphere. Two men were face down on massage tables while two young ladies in white uniforms worked out the kinks in their shoulders and backs.

“Now this is what I’m talking about,” I said. “This is the life.”

“Being kneaded like a hunk of dough? We’re cats, Max, not bread.”

“It’s a massage parlor,” I said. “This is where they massage your muscles until they’re smooth and flexible.”

“My muscles are always smooth and flexible.”

I glanced at the skinny ragamuffin. “That’s because you don’t have any.”

“That’s not possible, Max,” he said. “Without muscles my skeleton would simply collapse.”

I keep forgetting that Dooley also watches the Discovery Channel. And it seems that from time to time he even manages to pay attention.

We ambled over to take a closer look, and I saw that both men had their heads stuffed into some kind of leather donut attached to the table. But even though their faces looked all scrunched-up and funny, they still managed to keep up a conversation. I now recognized them as Dion Dread, Shayonne’s husband, and Alejandro Salanova, the director of the Kenspeckles show. Neither man paid any attention to us, as usual. They were too busy talking.

“So it’s a done deal, then?” asked Dion.

“I still have to run it by the network,” said Alejandro.

“But that’s just a formality, right? As long as the producer’s on board, the network is bound to give us the go-ahead.”

“Yeah, I think it’s a cinch. We’ve never done a show like this before. What happens after you’ve been dumped by a Kenspeckle. It’s bound to be a hit.”

“I haven’t been dumped,” Dion protested. “Shayonne and I parted ways amicably. Irreconcilable differences and all of that stuff.”

“You can’t bullshit me, Dion. I was there when you had your big showdown with Shayonne, remember? Too bad the cameras weren’t rolling, or we wouldn’t have to reshoot those scenes. And at such a bad time, too.”

“Great time, you mean. All the attention is going to be on us now, with Shana’s body being found and the police sniffing around for the killer.”

“Well, that’s one way of looking at it, I guess.”

“Always look for the silver lining, Alejandro. That’s my motto.” He tried to grin, but it was hard with his face squeezed into that funny-looking donut.

I shared a look with Dooley. So Dion was getting his own show. That wasn’t going to sit well with the Kenspeckles. The only reason he’d risen to fame was because he’d married into the family. Now he was going to try and monetize that fame by establishing his own brand. I could see that this entire breakup with Shayonne and the murder of Shana was going to be benefiting him. If that wasn’t enough motive for murder I didn’t know what was.

“We have to tell Odelia,” I told Dooley.

“Tell her what? That two guys are getting a massage in the basement?”

“That Dion is getting his own show. I’ll bet it’s a big secret.”

“So? Getting his own show doesn’t make him a murderer, does it?”

“It sure does. He could have set this all up to launch his new show.”

Dooley gave me a worried look. “That sounds pretty far-fetched, Max.”

“No more far-fetched than a giant killer dog biting people’s heads off.”

He laughed, and then I laughed, and then we both laughed up a storm. It’s fun to laugh at a bully, at least when he’s not around. Until he is.

“Laugh all you want, bozos,” a gruff voice suddenly announced.

When we whirled around, we saw Brutus right behind us, looking pissed.

I gulped a little. “And? Any luck finding your vicious killer dog?”

Next to me, Dooley tried to suppress a giggle, but failed miserably.

Brutus fixed us with his best scowl. “I didn’t find a killer dog, but I did just overhear a very interesting conversation. A conversation that will interest Odelia a lot.”

“Hey. We heard it first,” I said, alarmed.

“Yeah, and we’re going to tell Odelia,” Dooley added.

Brutus gave us an evil grin. “Not if I tell her first, you’re not.”

And then he slammed the door to the Spa & Wellness Center in our faces.