Purrfectly Flealess

Chapter 5

We met up with Brutus and Harriet on the roof of The Hungry Pipe, one of Hampton Cove’s cat population’s favorite hangouts, mainly because the owner likes to store his restaurant’s trash on the roof before transferring it to the alley below for collection.

“Nothing!” Brutus said when we’d finally navigated the fire escape and arrived up top. “We talked to everyone we know up and down the street and they all told us the same thing: whoever or whatever caused this infestation will always remain a secret.”

“No, it won’t,” I told him, and proceeded to clue him and Harriet in on the little secret Kingman had shared.

“The opossum said that,” said Harriet, not concealing her disbelief. “A dead opossum. Seriously.”

“It wasn’t dead,” said Dooley. “It was just pretending to be dead, like opossums do.”

“So a dead opossum and Kingman, the biggest con cat in all of Hampton Cove, think a cat in a limo caused all this.” She rolled her eyes, and very expressively so, too. “Puh-lease. That is just ridiculous.”

“I think you’re missing the point,” said Dooley. “The opossum wasn’t really dead. It was just pretending to be dead. And he said he actually saw that Limo Cat with his own eyes and…” Harriet gave him a look of such hauteur he stopped mid-sentence.

“Limo Cat. Huh,” said Brutus, though judging from the smirk he was displaying he had a hard time giving credence to the story as well.

“Look, I don’t care if you believe us or not,” I said, “but the fact remains that two witnesses so far told us about this limo and I, for one, would like to try and find Kingman’s friend—the one who got into the limo and when she got out was infested with the bugs.”

“Will you look at that?” said Harriet, and I had the impression she wasn’t referring to me or the bugs or even the fake-dead opossum. When I turned to look, I saw she was actually talking about a small troupe of cats who had just arrived on the rooftop, and who were now going through a series of highly vigorous warm-up routines.

“It’s the Most Interesting Cats in the World,” said Brutus, fascinated by the sight.

“I know who they are, Brutus,” snapped Harriet. “And if you ask me they’re not as interesting as they make themselves out to be.”

“Oh, for sure,” said Brutus, his eyes riveted on the cats. “Not interesting at all. Absolutely uninteresting, in fact.”

The cats had spotted us, and trotted up limberly. “Hey, cats of Hampton Cove,” said the leader, a butch cat called Princess. “Are you here to spy on the competition?”

Harriet frowned. “Competition?”

“Yeah, the contest? You are going to Vegas, right? For the Ultimate Cat Show?”

“Um, no,” said Harriet, as if Vegas was the last place on earth she wanted to be.

“Oh, too bad,” said Princess. “Always fun to demolish the other teams, especially when they’re as weak and pathetic as you guys obviously are.” She laughed a very unpleasant laugh. “At least if that performance at the park was any indication.”

“We’re not show cats,” Dooley explained. “We’re cat sleuths, actually.”

“Cat sleuths!” cried Princess, almost choking. “Of course you are.” She gave us a look of disdain, only matched by the one her teammates gave us. “And what have you been sleuthing lately? How to get rid of your silly little flea infestation? Oh, yes, we’ve heard all about that, haven’t we, ladies?”

The other cats nodded, producing scornful sounds.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Harriet.

“Show cats like us don’t get infested with fleas,” said Princess. “Gorgeous cats like us are too well-groomed to attract common vermin.” At the mention of the word vermin she cut an up-and-down glance at Harriet that made the latter’s blood boil, if the steam flowing from her ears was any indication. “Because as you know, vermin attracts vermin, girl.”

“Are you calling me vermin?” demanded Harriet, eyes glittering dangerously.

“If the shoe fits…”

“Why, you horrible little—”

“Ooh, I think we’ve got ourselves a challenger, sisters,” said Princess.

“Bring it,” said Beca, the Most Attractive Cat in the World.

“Let’s do this,” said Chloe, the Most Intriguing Cat in the World.

“We’ve got this, sisters!” exclaimed Aubrey, the Most Iconic Cat in the World.

“Hit it!” hollered Fat Amy, the Sexiest Cat Alive.

And before we could stop them, the quintet were shaking and quaking their booties as they moved into some sort of convulsive dance routine. I’d seen them in action before, and they were pretty amazing. The show they now provided was equally entertaining, with snatches from several hit songs. Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack sounded familiar, as did Uptown Funk and even Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You. Before long, the roof was filled with cats of all shapes and sizes, cheering on the Most Interesting Cats troupe and whooping it up.

Harriet, meanwhile, stood fuming to the side. She had many talents, but singing and dancing were not amongst them. “Let’s go, Brutus,” she said finally. “Brutus? Brutus!”

But Brutus was too busy staring at the dance routine to notice his lady love needed him. Finally, she stalked off alone, and when I looked back I saw that Harriet had left the roof.