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“He kicked me, too,” Dooley lamented. “Three times.”

“That was yesterday, this is now,” I said. “So what about Harriet?”

“Well, she insists that we act out the comic as dynamically as possible, since the camera will only serve to diminish our facial expressions, so we need to ham it up.”

“You’ve certainly succeeded,” I said.

“Thanks, Max. That’s always nice to hear.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“Oh.” He gave me a rueful look. “The thing is that now that I’ve started kicking, I can’t seem to stop! It’s part of my persona now, Max. It’s how I see Brutus.”

“How you see yourself, you mean?”

“No, how I see my character. Brutus.”

“But you are Brutus, so you’re playing yourself.”

“Yes, but no. Brutus is a character that Gran and Scarlett created, and I’m playing him. And Brutus, as I see him, is a cat who likes to kick up a fuss. He does it to impress Harriet, you see, the love of his life, and now that I’ve fully conquered the part I can’t seem to stop. I’m living the part, Max. I am Brutus.”

“I know you’re Brutus, Brutus.”

“No, I mean I’mBrutus Brutus”

“This is all very confusing,” said Dooley.

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Brutus.

“You better turn him off now,” I said, “or else I’ll be the one who kicks you off the bed.”

“You can’t do that, Max,” said Brutus.

“And why not?”

“Because you’re the spider, and the spider always gets squashed.”

I was really starting to hate this whole Harriet the Cat thing, I’ll tell you.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

The next morning, more or less bright and early, we were in Uncle Alec’s office, for a meeting with the big guy and his team of detectives. Well, one detective in the form of Chase, and one civilian consultant, part of an effort by the police department to bring policing closer to the public. And since Odelia is as much a member of the public as any member of the public could be, she’s the spearhead of this effort. And it seems to work, because if people stiffen when they encounter Chase in his capacity as police detective, they immediately relax when Odelia introduces herself as his civilian consultant. They open up to her and find themselves sharing stuffthey’d never divulge to a cop.

“Okay, so where do we stand?” asked Uncle Alec as he gave us a bleary-eyed look.

“Do you think Brutus has been kicking him all night, too, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t think so, Dooley, because he’s been kicking us all night.”

“You look like hell, Chief,” said Chase. “What happened?”

“Did you have a fight with Charlene?” asked Odelia with a measure of concern. Ever since Uncle Alec has found true love in the arms of Charlene Butterwick, our town’s wonderful mayor, he’s become a new man. A man who takes better care of himself, and generally a happier person.

“Noise complaint,” said the Chief. “Rudolph Vickery got it into his nut to play a heavy metal concert in the middle of the night. Just him and his boombox in front of Town Hall. Says he suddenly felt inspired.” He rubbed his face. “Give me some good news, people.”

“When is Jayme’s arraignment?” asked Odelia.

“Tomorrow. So what have you got?”

“Okay, so we talked to Veronica James yesterday, and she claims to have been in bed, asleep, when her husband was killed. And her son Danny says he took a drive in his car.”

“What about… Heiko Palace?” asked Uncle Alec, consulting his notes.

“I checked with his wife,” said Chase, “and she confirms he was with her all night.”

“She could be lying,” Odelia pointed out.

“They could all be lying,” said Chase.

“How about that handwriting expert?” asked the Chief. “What did he have to say?”

“He confirms that the handwriting is definitely Dave’s,” said Chase, nodding.

Uncle Alec directed a significant look to his niece.“That sounds pretty damning.”

“I know,” said Odelia, who didn’t look too happy at this development.

“What worries me is that the killer took the turtle,” said Chase. “And I really don’t see how a seventeen-year-old girl who doesn’t even own a car could have shifted a three-hundred-pound turtle. Also: why would she do that? And where would she hide it?”

“We don’t know she took it,” said Uncle Alec. “That turtle could have escaped.”

“The animal is a hundred years old, Chief, and he’d been living with Dave for fifty years. Why would he escape?”

Uncle Alec threw up his hands.“I don’t know. I’m just spitballing here.”

Just then, the door slammed open and Gran appeared. She was holding up her phone and glanced around the office.“I’m doing a scene in here,” she announced. “Alec will play the big bully who threatens Harriet with jail time, and Brutus will be the one who gets her off by giving you a kick in the snoot. Okay, let’s do this, folks. Time’s a-wasting!”

“Not okay,” grumbled the Chief. “I’m in the middle of a meeting here, Ma.”

“So cut it short,” she said. “I have a comic to shoot and you’re in the script.”

“What script?”

“The script I wrote,” said Scarlett, now also entering the office, followed by Harriet and Brutus, Harriet tripping in last, and inspecting the office, giving it a skeptical look.