“I think we can do better, Gran,” she said. “This place is grimy and filthy.” She touched her paw to a spot on the floor. “Look, dust,” she said. “We can’t have that.”
“When is the last time you had a cleaner in here, Alec?” asked Gran.
“Can you please go?” said the Chief. “And take those cats with you.”
“No can do,” said Gran. “We’re shooting a scene.”
“What scene? What the hell are you talking about?”
Gran rolled her eyes.“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m in the photo comic business now, and unless you help me out, you won’t get to profit when the millions start rolling in. Or do you want to be a cop all your life? Now get up and let me see if you’re decent.”
In spite of his protestations, Uncle Alec still heeded the voice of his maternal unit and got up.
Gran subjected him to a critical inspection.“I don’t like that shirt. Don’t you have another one? And look at those pants. Also, your hair is a mess.” She turned to Scarlett. “We need to fix his hair, Scarlett. Get a comb.” And before Uncle Alec knew what was happening, Scarlett was combing his few strands of hair, Gran was tucking his shirt into his pants, and he was being prepared for a starring role in Harriet the Cat’s next comic!
“Look here,” he lamented. “I really don’t have time for this.”
“Then you better make time. This is the future of this family, Alec. Or haven’t you read Tollie the Turtle?”
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “I only read the sports section.”
“Shame on you. Now sit down and look like a police chief.”
Uncle Alec sat down and proceeded to look like himself.
“Harriet, Brutus, you’re on,” said Gran. “Alec, make a grab for Harriet.”
Uncle Alec made as if to grab Harriet, who proceeded to put on a scared face.
“Now you, Brutus. Do your thing.”
So Brutus strode onto the scene, hauled off, and gave Uncle Alec a kick in the snoot!
“Ow!” said Uncle Alec, grabbing the offended appendage.
“Well done,” said Gran. “And… that’s a wrap, you guys.”
“I feel like we should do another take,” said Harriet. “Harriet might be scared, but she’s also defiant. She’s nervous but also confident. Beautiful but at the same time vulnerable.”
“No more takes,” said Gran.
“Oh, all right,” said Harriet, looking resigned yet disappointed.
“How did you like that kick, Gran?” said Brutus.
And then they all walked out, the door closed behind them, and life returned to normal. Except that Uncle Alec was still grabbing his nose where Brutus had kicked it.
“Uncle Alec is a great actor, Max,” said Dooley. “Look at his face. He’s really projecting confusion right now.”
“He’s not projecting confusion, Dooley,” I said. “He is confused.”
“Are you all right, Chief?” asked Chase.
“What just happened?” asked the Chief.
“I think you just got kicked by a cat,” said Odelia with a slight smile.
Uncle Alec now removed his hands from his nose, and said,“If you ever breathe a word about this to anyone, I swear I’ll—”
“We don’t have to breathe a word, Chief,” said Chase cheerfully. “We just have to wait for the photo comic to appear in the newspapers.”
“Newspapers? What newspapers?”
“Gran hopes to publish Harriet the Cat in two thousand five hundred newspapers around the world,” said Odelia.
“Look, Max,” said Dooley. “Uncle Alec is projecting surprise now. And now he’s projecting anger. Or is it rage? It definitely looks as if he wants to kick someone.”
Chapter 18
Walking out of the police station, Odelia decided to go into the office first, to get some work done, while Chase had stayed in his office, and was going to set up another interview with Veronica, this time to dig a little deeper into the relationship between her son Danny and her husband.
And so we walked in Odelia’s wake until we reached the General Store and found to our surprise that Rudolph had taken up position in front of the store, and was entertaining his brother’s customers with a song. He’d installed a boombox and was regaling us with some heavy metal. But instead of applauding this free entertainment, potential customers gave the wannabe metalhead, and the store, a wide berth.
“If this keeps up Wilbur won’t have a customer left!” Kingman said over the noise of the wailing guitars and Rudolph’s shrieks. “Just look at him. He’s chasing everyone away!”
“Maybe he’ll attract a new clientele!” I returned, also raising my voice over the din.
An elderly lady, who’d intended to walk into the store, but saw the big and hulking Rudolph, changed her mind and kept on walking, presumably to grace some other store with her patronage.
“We need to get rid of this guy,” said Kingman, “before he destroys us all!”
And as I glanced to Rudolph, then beyond him and across the street, I suddenly saw that Waldo McLoughlin, the banker we met the day before, was talking animatedly with a man who also looked familiar.
“Isn’t that Dave James’s inker?” asked Dooley, who’d followed my gaze.
“Heiko Palace, yes. I wonder what they have to discuss,” I said.
I now remembered that the day before Heiko had phoned Waldo while we were in his office, and had then shown up in person.