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“There won’t be a lot of riding going on, I’m afraid,” the cop growled. “I need to go over the reports that came in so it’s all going to be office work today.” He sighed. “In fact I’m not sure there’s much the cats can do. They’ll probably be very bored.”

“Oh no, we won’t,” I assured him.

“We love office work, don’t we, Max?” said Dooley.

“Absolutely. We live for office work,” I said.

“Then office work it is,” said Marge cheerfully, dashing Chase’s hopes that he could walk into his precinct without two cats in tow, causing him to become the topic of a lot of good-natured ribbing.

Marge prepared us what she called a packed lunch and off we went.

“So what are you going to call the baby, Chase?” asked Dooley once we were in the car.

“Better buckle up,” Chase grunted. Then he frowned. “Or not. Actually I don’t think there’s a rule about pets and seat belts, or is there? I’d have to check the traffic code.”

“When is Odelia coming home?” asked Dooley. “And where is the baby going to sleep?”

“He can’t understand us, Dooley,” I said, settling in on the backseat and getting ready for a lazy day at the office.

Marge had told us to take our bathroom breaks outside, since there was a patch of green behind the precinct that was supposedly the backyard but no one had bothered to take care of it so it was more like a wasteland now. And she’d told Chase to make sure to leave the window open when we gave him any indication that we needed to go.

We arrived at the police station and walked in, single file, with Chase taking the lead and Dooley and me right behind.

Dolores, whose domain is the precinct vestibule, had to laugh when she saw us arrive.“Will you look at that,” she said. “Papa duck and his two ducklings!”

“Very funny, Dolores,” Chase grunted.

“When the Chief told us you’d finally become a father I forgot to ask if they were human. I guess I’ve got my answer now.”

“Ha ha ha. So funny.”

She held up her phone to snap a picture of us, and Dooley and I gladly posed. Chase, though, looked about as happy as a man getting ready for a root canal or a colonoscopy.

“Smile for the camera, Detective Kingsley,” said Dolores. “This one is going on the station bulletin board.”

“Oh, hell,” Chase muttered.

“Well, congratulations, buddy,” said Dolores, tucking away her phone. “Everything all right with mother and child?”

“Yeah, they’re both doing great,” said Chase, leaning on the counter and rubbing his eyes. He yawned. “I was up half the night. And then there’s these cats yowling like nobody’s business. No idea what they wanted from me.”

“Did you feed them? Clean out their litter box?”

Chase stared at her, bleary-eyed.“Litter box?” he asked. “They’ve got an entire backyard to do their business in, and if that’s not enough, they’ve got those fields behind the house. And as far as food is concerned, there’s plenty of mice infesting the place.”

“But we don’t eat mice, Chase,” said Dooley. “We’re notmurderers, you know.”

Dolores glanced at us and gave us a look of commiseration.“I’ve got a feeling these two will be more than happy when Odelia finally comes home again.”

“Finally? She’s only been gone one night.”

“One very long night,” I murmured.

When we arrived in the precinct, Chase’s colleagues all jumped up to congratulate him, and some of them had even bought gifts. There were nappies—small ones for the baby and big ones for the daddy—though I had a feeling those were just for fun—and of course there was cake and other refreshments and one of his colleagues had even gotten him a complete set of baby clothes. They were very small and very pink.

“So what’s the baby’s name?” asked one of his colleagues.

“We haven’t decided yet,” said Chase, giving her a tired smile.

“Call her Vesta, after her great-grandma,” said another colleague.

“Anything but that,” said Chase with a grin.

“Or Alexa, after her great-uncle!” said another.

“Yeah, right,” said Chase. “That’ll be the day.”

We finally settled in at the big man’s office, Dooley and I in a corner and Chase behind his desk, and for the rest of the day we watched him work. He was reading emails, checking phone records, poring over witness statements, crime scene reports, financial records, forensic reports… From time to time he grabbed his phone to talkto one of the people he’d already interviewed, or to consult with Odelia, who gave advice from her hospital bed, and he even took the time to talk to us—though more in lieu of talking to himself.

“Okay, so here’s the thing,” he said, addressing me as he tapped his pencil against his teeth. “They found Dotty’s car nearby, parked on the next block. Only she hadn’t used it to drive home that night, since it had collected a parking ticket the night before, then another parking ticket on the night. So she must have arrived home with her killer.”

“Sounds like a logical conclusion,” I told him.