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“Oh, don’t talk nonsense,” said Marge. “If my daughter were pregnant, don’t you think she would have told me?”

“So she’s not pregnant?” asked Scarlett.

“Of course not.”

“Huh!” said Scarlett, as Marge’s head disappeared.

“Oh, I know,” said Gran. “Let’s ask Tex.”

“Of course! If anyone knows, it’s Odelia’s doctor. Tex!” she screamed. “Oh, Texie!”

Tex’s head came popping out of the upstairs bedroom window, where presumably he’d been engaged in admiring the portrait of his gnome, the pride of his collection. “What is it?” he asked. “Where is the fire?”

“No fire,” said Scarlett. “Just that we heard that congratulations are in order.”

“What congratulations?” asked Tex, looking puzzled.

“Oh, don’t be coy, Tex. We know you’re going to be a grandfather soon!”

Tex’s face lit up. “I am? Oh, that’s wonderful news.”

“You mean you didn’t know?” asked Scarlett.

“No, I didn’t. This is news to me—but wonderful, absolutely wonderful.”

“But you are your daughter’s doctor, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a gynecologist, Scarlett,” said Tex.

“So you wouldn’t know if she were pregnant?” Scarlett insisted.

“Not unless she told me,” said Tex.

“Okay, Tex, go away,” said Gran. “We don’t need you anymore.”

“Oh,” said Tex, giving us a look of confusion, retracting his head again.

Just then, Chase came walking through the hedge, and gave us an all-encompassing smile.“Still working on those cat-talking skills, are you, Scarlett?” he said.

“Chase, you’re the dad,” said Scarlett, pouncing on the cop. “So when is the big day?”

“What big day?” asked Chase.

“When is your wife’s due date?!” Scarlett insisted.

“Due date?”

“Babies, Chase!” said Gran. “When is the baby due?”

“Before you can have a due date, first you need to be pregnant,” the cop pointed out.

“Oh, don’t keep us in suspense!” Gran snapped. “Is your wife pregnant or isn’t she?”

Chase gave her a smile.“That’s for me to know and for you to find out, isn’t it?”

And with these cryptic words, he walked into the house.

“This family of yours is just terrible!” said Scarlett.

“Yeah, so secretive,” Gran murmured.

And then, slowly, they both turned to me. And soon I found that Harriet, Brutus and Dooley were also staring at me.

“You’re Odelia’s top cat, Max,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, if anyone knows her deepest darkest secrets, it’s you,” Brutus added.

“A baby is not a dark secret, Brutus,” said Gran.

“No, I guess it’s not,” Brutus amended his statement.

“But you know, don’t you, Max!” said Harriet.

“Look, you guys, I have no idea what goes on behind closed doors!” I said.

“Oh, but you do, Max—you always do,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, you’re a clever little detective, aren’t you, Max?” said Brutus.

“If anyone knows, it’s you, Max!” said Gran.

“And if he doesn’t know now, he’ll be able to find out, won’t you, Max?” said Scarlett.

“But you guys!” I cried.

“You have to find out, Max,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, our lives depend on it,” Brutus chimed in.

“A baby is going to change everything, Max,” said Dooley.

“As we all know: when babies come, cats have to go,” Harriet added.

“Which means we’ll have to go,” said Brutus.

“No more sleeping at the foot of the bed,” said Harriet.

“No more spending time lazing around the house,” Brutus added.

“The good old days are over, Max,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, it’s bye-bye cats,” said Gran.

“At least as long as that baby is an infant,” Brutus pointed out. He turned to Harriet. “How long does it last, that infancy stage?”

“Oh, probably until the kid goes off to college?” said Harriet.

“College!” Dooley cried. “But that’s… a very long time!”

“Okay, so it’s a matter of life or death, Max,” said Gran.

“You have to find out if Odelia is pregnant—now!” Harriet stressed.

“Oh, all right!” I said. “I will find out, I promise!”

Okay, so I finally caved. But what did you expect? It was indeed a matter of life or death for us cats! Harriet was right: when babies come, cats have to go! And I honestly didn’t feel like going just yet. I was much too young to go! I really was!

Chapter 18

And so I found myself, sandwiched between Harriet and Brutus in the back of Gran’s little red Peugeot, my two friends chattering excitedly about my ‘mission’ and discussing the pros and cons of the new baby arriving in our midst. Dooley was seated next to Brutus, having been muscled out of the center of things, and frankly I wasn’t feeling all that sanguine with my newposition as potential savior of the Poole cat contingent.

At least there was one silver lining about all of this: no longer were the Baker Street Cats the center of attention. The downside was that there was actual talk of sabotaging any potential arrival of the new baby in our midst!

“Babies are bad for business, Max, you have to accept that,” said Harriet in hushed tones.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, as we all know, the moment a baby arrives, humans kick their cats to the curb.”

“And we’re talking the actual curb, Max,” said Brutus.

“We’ll have to live on the street,” said Harriet. “Eat from dumpsters.”

“We’ll be living like Clarice,” said Brutus. “And you know what that means.”