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“I think so too,” I admitted. Dooley and I quickly gave her the gist of the interviews with Johnny’s seemingly endless row of boy toys, but there seemed to be little news in those testimonies for Odelia, and for once I felt a little helpless. There’s only so much information a cat can gleanfrom humans, and so far we hadn’t found the one clue that would break this case wide open.

“I think you should keep investigating,” I said. “If your uncle thinks he’s got his killer, he’s going to stop looking, and send the wrong guy to prison.”

“I know,” said Odelia, and gave us both a rub on the head. “Thanks for being my perfect feline spies, you guys. How did you ever get so smart?”

“We’re sleuthing cats,” I said, swelling a little. “Sleuthing is in our blood.”

“Yeah, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson got nothing on us,” said Dooley.

Odelia leaned on the desk and eyed us with a humorous glint in her eyes.“So who’s Sherlock Holmes and who’s Dr. Watson, I wonder.”

“Why, I’m Sherlock, of course,” said Dooley.

“How do you figure that?” I asked.

“I’m thin and handsome and you’re fat and… well, not so handsome.”

“I’m not fat!” I cried. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m big-boned. Besides, Dr. Watson wasn’t fat. He was buff and trim. And Sherlock Holmes wasn’t handsome at all. He was… gaunt.”

“Gaunt and handsome,” Dooley insisted. “Just like me.”

“I think you could both be Sherlock Holmes,” said Odelia soothingly.

“Which would make Harriet Irene Adler,” I said.

“Wasn’t she Sherlock’s girlfriend?” asked Odelia.

“She was Sherlock’s femme fatale,” I corrected her.

“She fell for Sherlock, just like Harriet fell for Brutus,” said Dooley sadly.

“So actually Brutus is Sherlock,” said Odelia teasingly.

“Brutus obviously is Professor Moriarty,” I countered. “The evil genius who was Sherlock’s greatest foe. Which makes me Sherlock.”

“Fat chance,” Dooley scoffed.

“Look, Brutus is my biggest foe,” I said.

“Our biggest foe,” he corrected. “And he stole Irene Adler from us.”

“Brutus is going to solve this case,” I told Odelia now. “And then he’s going to tell Chase.”

“Oh? And how does he think he’s going to do that?” asked Odelia. “As far as I know Chase doesn’t talk cat.”

I shrugged.“He says he’ll find a way.”

Odelia smiled.“I’d like to see him try.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Dooley. “I don’t think it’ll work. And when he fails miserably, like he’s bound to, Harriet will finally discover that the elephant in her room has feet of clay and isn’t wearing any clothes.”

“Um, I think you’ve got your metaphors mixed up, buddy,” I said. “Either we’re talking about the elephant in the room, or Brutus has feet of clay or the emperor has no clothes. You can’t have all three.”

“Why not? It’s not like Brutus has any clothes. He’s a cat. Cats don’t wear clothes. And neither do elephants.”

“Sure,” I said, not wanting to get into another argument. Dooley was obviously feeling a little fragile right now. “You have to solve this murder before Brutus does,” I told Odelia. “If he finds the killer he’s going to get so cocky life with him will simply be unbearable. And Harriet will continue to put him on a pedestal, which means we’ll have lost our best friend forever.”

“Yeah, we’ve got to put that cat in his place by showing him how things are done around here,” said Dooley. “We have to catch that killer.”

But Odelia shook her head.“I’d like to help you, guys, but so far I have no clue. And I’m starting to think we haven’t scratched the surface yet.”

“The surface of what?” asked Dooley.

“Of the elephant,” I muttered. Then, louder, I said, “Just follow the money. Isn’t that how you solve a murder in the first place?”

“Care to explain yourself, Sherlock?” asked Odelia, amused.

“I mean, why do humans kill humans? It’s not like with us cats, to eat them, right?”

“Not unless your name is Hannibal Lecter,” she admitted.

“They kill for revenge, or love, or money,” I quickly summed up. “And people like Johnny, who are loaded to the eyeballs, are obvious targets. So who stood to gain most from his death? Who’s getting the Benjamins, baby?”

“Who’s Benjamin?” asked Dooley, confused.

“It’s a figure of speech,” I told him. “I mean, who gets the money?”

Odelia gave me an appreciative look.“You know, you’d make a pretty good cop, Max. You, too, Dooley. And because you guys worked so hard today, I got you a special treat.”

I exchanged an excited glance with Dooley. We were all for treats, especially after traipsing around town all day. So we both hopped down to the floor, and next thing we knew she’d set down a plate with two chicken wings and we found ourselves staring at them, a little disappointed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought you loved chicken wings?”

“Oh, we do,” I assured her.

“It’s just that…” Dooley began.

“We tasted some of Johnny’s food this morning.”

“And it was so good, you wouldn’t believe.”

“Yeah, just about the best stuff I’ve ever tasted.”

Odelia frowned.“Don’t keep me in suspense. What was it?”

“P?t?,” we said in unison, and Odelia laughed.