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“I don’t know if that’s necessarily true,” I said. “If it weren’t for them, I’d never be able to cobble this stuff together.” As cats we don’t have the luxury to go around flashing our badges and knocking down doors and interviewing people. For one thing cats don’t have pockets to put those badges, and for another we don’t have the sturdy boots to knock down doors. Also, people feel awkward answering questions directed at them by what they obviously consider to be an inferior species. And then of course there’s the fact that they don’t understand a word we say. All hurdles Chase or Odelia don’t necessarily face.

And it’s worked out well for us so far. They ask the questions and collect the evidence, and I sort through it and tag along like the interested observer that I am and at the end of the day, if things work out, I try and come up with the answer. And of course they get all the credit, since I’m not precious in that way. Not a bad deal, as deals go, I should say.

“Well, I say it’s true,” said Dooley. “Name me one single case they’ve managed to solve all on their own, without any help from you?”

“Well, um…” I thought for a moment. “Charlie Dieber’s bodyguard?”

“You caught his killer.”

“Um… Randy Hancock?”

“All you.”

“What about Chickie Hay, Lil Thug and Dick Dickerson?”

“You, you and you. No, it’s no use,” he said when I opened my mouth to speak. “Without you none of these vicious killers would have been brought to justice. So I’m going to say it now, Max, and please don’t argue with me: you are indispensable. And so here’s what we’re going to do: if Odelia and Chase decide to put us all in the shelter, you tell them there will be no more assistance from you in solving their cases. None. And no more valuable tips from us for Odelia’s articles. The well is going to run dry. We’re going on a strike, Max. A sleuthing strike.”

I stared at my friend. Had he really come up with such a luminous idea all by himself?

“So what do you think, Max? Are you with me or not?”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. It was the sheer emotion preventing me from giving utterance to my extreme gratitude.

Dooley must have misinterpreted my silence, for he said,“You think it’s a lousy idea, don’t you? I should have known. I’m not an ideas cat, Max. I may be a loyal sidekick, but the bright ideas are always you. Just like Dr. Watson never had all that much to contribute, or that goofy Captain Hastings. I’m sorry for even mentioning it, but I justthought—”

“It’s brilliant, Dooley,” I finally managed in a husky voice. “Absolutely brilliant.”

His face lit up like a Christmas tree.“You think so?”

“Of course!” Then I sagged a little. “Though I’m not sure if it will make any difference. You seem to overestimate my role in this household, buddy. I may have a great idea from time to time, but at the end of the day it’s Odelia and Chase who carry out the investigation. And it’s they who set the trap and make the arrest. Not me.”

“And I think you underestimate the important part you play, Max,” he said warmly.

I smiled at my friend.“At least you’ve managed to lift my mood—even if only for the briefest of moments.”

Besides, who was to say that Windex wouldn’t prove ten times the sleuth I was? In which case she’d be the one riding with Odelia and Chase from now on. She’d be the one pouncing on clues and sorting the red herrings from the true gems.

Then again, as things stood, it was still us in the car, and not that tiny batlike dog, and so for what no doubt would be our last hurrah, I decided to pay attention once more to the investigation, discover who the killer was, and then tell Odelia that she was only getting a name from me if she promised—preferably in writing and with her signature confirmed by two reliable witnesses in front of a notary—never to take us to the shelter.

It might work, or it might not, but it was the only shot we got, as Bruce would say.

Chapter 20

We were back at the Toneu car dealership, where Dewey Toneu seemed very unhappy to see us again. When Chase steered his car into a parking space in front of the shop, I could read Dewey’s lips as he turned to his colleague and cried, “Not them again!”

And as we waltzed into the showroom, Dewey had that set look on his face that told me he was gearing up for a fight. He came walking up to us with an energetic gait, ready to rumble, but Chase stopped him dead in his tracks when he waved a document in the man’s face. “Your financial records, Toneu. Why didn’t you tell us you’re virtually broke?”

The man immediately turned back to this same employee, who stood standby in case things got ugly and his boss gave the sign to muscle these annoying cops out of the showroom, and said,“It’s all right, Pedro. Go and see if Suzy needs help at reception.”

Pedro gave Chase the dark look of a loyal servitor, nodded once, and stalked off.