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“It certainly is a warm night,” said Marion in a sort of sultry voice.

“Our humans visited the Notre Dame today,” said Dooley. “And also a woman came into our room who said her husband cheated on her and she didn’t know what to do but then she left our room again when she got a message and now we’re thinking she might be getting together with her husband again.”

My friend was babbling. Actually babbling like a brook. Had to be that bug.

“Have you heard about this cat burglar?” asked Dooley. “Your human told our humans about him.”

“Heard of him?” said Marion. “I’ve actually seen him with my own eyes!”

Now we were both stunned.“Seen him!” said Dooley.

“What did he look like?” I asked, my mind flashing to that reward money.

“Did he look like a cat?” asked Dooley. “Or like a burglar? Or both?”

“He looked like a man,” said Marion with a shrug. “Just a man, dressed in black from head to toe.”

“Did you see his face?” I asked.

“No, he was wearing a mask. And I have to say that the stories of him being a cat burglar are greatly exaggerated. I mean, did he show some acrobatic prowess? Sure. But a human can never be a real cat, of course. They don’t have the capacity. Or the bone structure.”

“You have great bone structure,” said Dooley, out of the blue.

Marion chuckled.“Why, thanks, Dooley. That’s very kind of you.”

“So what did he do, this cat burglar?” I asked.

“Well, let me think,” said Marion. “He crawled across this roof, in that direction, then let himself drop down onto one of the balconies and disappeared inside the room, only to come back out again a couple of minutes later.”

“Whose room was it, do you know?” I asked.

“I think it was the Comtesse de Vichy’s room.”

“Her gems were stolen,” I said. “Worth thousands.”

“Did you tell the police?” asked Dooley.

Marion laughed again.“You’re funny, Dooley. Now how would I tell the police?”

“No, of course,” said Dooley. “First you have to tell your human, and then he can tell the police. Only he’d have to make up a story so as not to implicate you.”

Marion simply stared at him.“What are you talking about?”

“We can talk to our human,” I explained. “Odelia? And also to her mom and grandma. The women in our family can all talk to cats, you see, and so when we see something suspicious we tell Odelia, and then she tells her husband, who’s a cop, and he goes and arrests the person responsible. It’s a solid arrangement.”

“Oh, my God, and you told me all of that with a straight face!” said Marion, marveling at my story. “You’re such a great liar, Max!”

“But he’s not lying,” said Dooley. “It’s true. We can all talk to our humans.”

“And another great liar!” said Marion, shaking her head. “Now listen, you guys, I know you think this is funny, but I don’t, all right? I hate liars, and so I must bid youadieu!” And with these words, she abruptly turned around and walked off!

We both stared after her.“What just happened?” I asked.

“Is she upset, Max?” asked Dooley. “Cause she certainly looks upset.”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said. “She probably thought we were pulling her paw.”

“But why would we want to pull at her paw, Max? Though she does have nice paws. Did you see her paws? I was looking at them and thinking they’re very nice to look at.” He sighed. “I could have looked at those paws for hours.”

I stared at him. I was starting to see what bug he’d caught. I should have known. It was a bug a lot of people catch when they come to Paris. A bug called love.

CHAPTER 8

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It was with a mind buzzing with questions that we finally returned to our room, deciding to spend what was left of the night in peaceful repose, ruminating on this most extraordinary meeting with a most extraordinary feline.

And we had only hopped down to the balcony and entered the room when all of a sudden a loud banging sounded at the door.

“Room service,” I said knowingly. In hotels like the Fritz-Parlton, room service is always at the highest level of service, which means they keep it going day and night, just in case one of the guests gets one of those midnight cravings.

Odelia and Chase took their sweet time waking up—humans are excellent sleepers but they always take forever to wake up, unlike us cats—but finally allowed themselves to be stirred to full wakefulness and shuffled over to the door.

“I hope they brought something for us,” said Dooley, salivating at the thought of digging his teeth into some delicious treat, as was I, I have to confess. I guess all that fresh night air had made me hungry. Then again, any air makes me hungry.

But instead of a nice room service person laden with treats and other goodies, it was none other than Agatha, and if I wasn’t mistaken, her hands, shaking violently, were covered in… blood!

“What is that stuff on Agatha’s hands?” asked Dooley.

“It looks like blood,” I said, curious about this unforeseen development.

“Agatha!” said Odelia, eyeing the stricken woman, whose face was wet with tears and who stood shaking like a leaf. “What’s wrong?!”