I admit, I was on the edge of my chair. The Kontinental Kat, certainly, knew how to spin a tale. I asked for some Catnip tea in order to calm down.
The plump, black cat took a break from the story while he brewed the hot beverage.
“So, how did you get Mrs. Kontinental Kat to dump her Tomfurriend and marry you?” I got to the nub of the situation. I mean, sure solving crimes was one thing but ‘getting the feline’ was the real issue here.
“You’ll have to wait until the end of the story.” He brought me a soothing mug of nip and returned to his own desk.
“Is this going to take long?” I looked at my watch. “I have to do some shopping later. I’m in need of a new wardrobe.”
“Okay. I’ll continue . . .” The Kontinental Kat sat and took a sip of his nip tea to settle down. “Where was I?”
“You were about to ‘drop the gloves’ on Romeo . . .” I reminded him.
“The gloves? Oh . . . you mean, I was about to take Romeo down, if I had to. But first I wanted to ask him about his cat burgling. Right . . . I went back to Romeo Montague’s home and found him cleaning up the tools from his art work. I noticed the implements he washed were rather strange, such as lock picks and glass cutters. But I’m no artist, so who knows what they are used for? Anyway, I confronted Romeo and accused him, “You were a cat burglar, weren’t you?”
He dropped a hand-held periscope and turned around quickly, holding up his paws in surrender. “Oh, it’s you . . .” Romeo lowered his paws and sneered, “The law doesn’t apply to me!” He uttered under his breath.
“Oh come now . . . You don’t have that kind of money. And you aren’t the President of the United Cats . . .” I was going to hold him accountable. “You were behind the Big Knockover . . . Admit it!”
“Listen Fatty . . .” He came towards me holding a newly cleaned pry bar. “Anything I do, is because I need the money to keep my feline-furriends, and me, happy.” He puffed himself up. “You wouldn’t know what that’s like considering you’ve NEVER had a feline of your own.”
I was incensed but the thing about me is, the more angry I get, the calmer I appear. “So, you let Cleo take the blame for your crime? What a Tom! I’m surprised any feline would find you attractive?” I ground out.
“What can I meow . . . the kittens love a bad boy.” Romeo smirked and backed off.
“You think so, do you?” I decided then and there that I would not rest until Cleo was saved from the clutches of Romeo. He was a poor excuse for a Tom.
“I know so. There’s a lot of things I know actually . . . art is one. The Babes are another. But most of all, I know how to grift. And not you, or the law, will stop me.” Romeo announced boldly.
I moved away from him and slowly made my way to some of his covered art work. I peeked under the sheet. It was an easel holding a disgusting painting of a group of senior Toms in amongst a group of feline kittens. The Toms had, obviously, not been neutered and were acting very inappropriately towards the youngsters. It was sick.
Romeo joined me and meowed in my ear, “If you like this kind of ‘art’, I can get you into a club where you can participate.”
Luckily, my back was to the Tom because I nearly began to hack up my breakfast. “Please tell me, that there are no paintings like this with Cleo as the subject?” I ground out, holding myself back from doing grievous bodily harm to this degenerate.
“Don’t be sick!” It seemed even Romeo had enough sense not to go that far! “I’m always looking for new models though. If you know of any adorable felines that would like to sit for me . . ?”
“I do have a sisfur . . . but you wouldn’t last a moment with her.” An idea was forming. This would be epic, if I could pull it off.
“Does she like nip?” He asked. “We can get kittens to do anything once they’re on the nip.” Romeo meowed confidently.
I smiled. “My sisfur is an innocent. I don’t know if she’s ever had nip before.” I managed to keep a straight face. “You might have to get her likeness surreptitiously. Sneak into her room . . . I’ll ply her with nip. Then you can paint away.” I suggested.
“What’s in it for you?” Romeo eyed me with suspicion.
This is where I had to think quickly. And if you know anything about me, it’s not my greatest attribute. “Two things . . . One . . . Patches is Mom’s favourite. She needs taking down a peg or two . . .”
“And two?”
“If I do this, I want you to admit your involvement in the Big Knockover and get Cleo’s name cleared.” I negotiated.
“Patches better be worth it.” Romeo sneered.
*********
Later that night, I had it all set up. Patches slept soundly, (nipped to the gills, I might add) while Cleo, the police and I, all waited for Romeo to make an appearance. Around about 10 pm there were noises from window which was left the slightly ajar.
Cleo grabbed my paw and whispered into my ear, “Be careful.”
My heart filled with love and I nodded.
Romeo managed to wedge his pry bar into the tiny space and pushed the window open wide enough for him to squeeze in. I joined him.
“Excellent. You made it.” I meowed.
Romeo jumped. Then he settled down. “Where’s this sisfur of yours?” He asked.
I pointed to where Patches lay on her bed.
Romeo drew close and sniffed around Patches. “She’s a bit old.” He remarked.
Well, that did it! Patches leapt from the bed and had Romeo by the throat. She wrestled him to the floor and growled until he cried, ‘Uncle’.
“You better confess!” Patches ordered.
“Okay, okay . . . I did it! It wasn’t Cleo who pulled off the Big Knockover! It was me!” Romeo finally squealed the truth.
“And for the record . . . who’s old?” Patches continued the interrogation.
“Not you?” Romeo admitted.
The police rushed in and arrested Romeo and he hasn’t seen the light of day since then. The Kontinental Kat ended his story.
I sat back, exhausted from the excitement. Obviously, I was in the right profession. I mean, who wouldn’t find detecting thrilling?
“Wait a minute . . .” I sat forward. “What does that story have to do with Savoy and her unreasonable interest in my cousin, Cheeto?” I did not make the connection.
“It turned out that Romeo was working for a very bad Tom named, A I Fizzle. A I was part of the biggest scam to cross the feline community since the whole red dot/tariff shakedown. Extortion, bullying and mafia-style blackmail were what they were all about. And Romeo was trading his art in it.” The Kontinental Kat began to explain. “I don’t know much about the art world, young Dash . . . but I do know it ought to be about honesty, integrity and depicting a cat’s life. We all have choices to make and we can stand on the side of good or we can cross that line and choose evil. Luckily, Romeo made a better choice in the end and dobbed them all in.” The Kontinental Kat looked at my perplexed expression. “Good always triumphs, Grasshopper. Cleo saw that I was on the right side and she chose me. Savoy will see that you are also a force for good. She’ll choose you.”
*********
The next day, I walked into the office wearing my brand new suit.
“WTFLOOF . . .?” The Kontinental Kat exclaimed when he saw me.
I performed a bit of a flourish. “Do you like it?” I asked proudly.
“You look like a ginger Tom. Who picked that outfit for you?” The tubby, black cat asked in astonishment.
“Savoy and I went shopping. She dumped Cheeto for me. My Belovéd has style, I’ll give her that!” I meowed with joy.
The End.
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