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“We can put her in the back,” Chase suggested.

Odelia glanced over her shoulder, through the steel mesh partition that was put in place to keep violent prisoners from attacking the driver, and shook her head.“I don’t think so, babe.”

Us cats, of course, didn’t have the benefit of such careful consideration, since all four of us were in the spot usually reserved for the bad guys that habitually ride in the back of Chase’s squad car after having been arrested for their crime.

At least we didn’t have to wear handcuffs.

“It doesn’t have to be a Volvo,” Odelia continued. “It could be a minivan.”

“A minivan!” Chase cried, as he took a firmer grip on the steering wheel.

“I mean, I love my old pickup, but maybe it’s time to trade it in.”

Grace must have sensed she was the topic of conversation, for she said,“Brmljgup,” and released a trail of drool that slid down her mom’s front.

“She has a funny way of communicating,” Brutus remarked.

“Yes, she does,” said Harriet. “Do all infants drool so much, Max?”

She seemed to think I was the expert on human infants.“I have no idea.”

“I think they do,” said Brutus. “At least the ones I’ve seen all have a problem keeping their saliva in their mouths.”

“I think it’s because they don’t have teeth,” said Dooley. “I saw a documentary once and it said that young humans are born without teeth, and that it takes months before they get them, and once they do, they lose them again, and then it takes years before they get their final ones. It’s all very complicated.”

“It’s no different for cats,” I said. “Kittens are also born without teeth. Only it doesn’t take months but weeks before they get them, and months before they get their permanent teeth.”

“Sounds like cats are a lot quicker off the mark,” said Brutus proudly.

“Well, I hope Grace gets her teeth soon,” said Harriet, “cause last night she drooled all over me. And the worst part was that I didn’t even notice until it was too late. I was practically standing in a puddle!”

It seemed to me that Harriet was slightly exaggerating, but I refrained from comment. After all, what did I know? Like I said, I’m not a baby expert. To me these small humans are very strange, and their behavior most puzzling.

We had finally arrived, and Chase parked behind a fellow officer’s squad car. Tucker Street used to be located in a bad part of town, but has been gentrifying, with many houses being torn down, and others being turned into apartments and lofts, all of them now available at a hefty premium, as is often the case.

The street itself had been partly excavated, and signs everywhere announced that‘Tucker Street says NO to cobblestone!’ Or even ‘Cobblestone? NEVER!’

“What’s a cobblestone, Max?” asked Dooley, who had noticed the same thing.

“They’re a square sort of granite stone,” I said, “used to pave the streets.”

“They’re very inconvenient for cyclists,” said Harriet knowingly, as if she drove her bicycle up and down cobblestone streets all day long.

We all got out and picked our way across the excavated street to the scene of the action: several police officers stood milling about, shooting the breeze, and then we spotted Uncle Alec, who came walking up to us, wiping his brow, as if all the cares of the world were resting on his burly shoulders, as oftentimes they did.

“Why all the uniforms?” asked Chase. “Did the burglar get away?”

“Worse,” said the Chief as he pointed in the direction of a man who sat crouched next to what looked like a body. “He’s dead.”

“How did that happen?”

“He broke into one of those upstairs apartments,” said the Chief, pointing to the house in front of which the dead person was lying, “but as he was leaving he must have slipped and fallen and broken his neck. Or at least that’s what I think happened. I’m waiting for Abe to confirm.”

Abe is Abe Cornwall, the county coroner, and the man who’s called upon in situations like these to determine if a person is dead, and if so, what made them that way.

We walked up to the coroner as he worked his magic, and as he got up, with a distinct creaking of the knees, he scratched his scalp, from which an abundance of electric gray hair sprouted.“Well, looks like you’ve got yourself a dead one, Alec.”

“Yeah, I knew that already, Abe,” said Uncle Alec. “But did he fall or what?”

“That is certainly what it looks like. Dead on impact, I’d say.”

“Christ,” said the Chief as he gazed up at the windows of the house.

“Do we know what apartment he broke into?” asked Odelia.

“Yeah, one Jay Green,” said the Chief.

Odelia gasped, even as she rocked Grace in her arms. She’d turned the kid’s face away, so she didn’t have to see the unhappy burglar who met such a sad fate.

“That’s the couple I’ve been helping,” she said.

“Helping with what?” asked her uncle.