“I think I’ve heard about that,” he said. “Supply and demand, right?”
“Exactly. As long as you can find a fool who’s an even bigger fool than you and willing to spend more on the same thing you spent all of your money on, you’re golden. And if not, you better look in the mirror, for the biggest fool is you.”
Chapter 42
It came as something of a shock to us when Odelia announced that she’d asked Blanche to clean out the attic. It was going to take her two weeks and all that time she was presumably going to lock the pet flap.
So it was with a heart bowed down with the weight of woe that Dooley and I were lying under the big cherry tree in Marge and Tex’s backyard, along with Harriet and Brutus.
All of us were the victims of a pair of evil cat-hating cleaners, and there didn’t seem to be anything we could do about it.
We heard the telltale sounds of a cleaner working hard: vacuum cleaner being switched on and off, and then on again. Water slushing in buckets, the smell of lavender-scented bleach being poured into those same buckets.
“She does work hard, I’ll give her that,” said Harriet as we lay there, awaiting the end of our sentence.
“The house is much cleaner since Blanche started coming around,” I admitted.
“No more dust bunnies,” said Dooley.
“She’s washed my favorite pillow with Ariel,” said Brutus. “I love the smell of Ariel. It’s like sleeping on a cloud, in Ariel heaven.”
“And she has finally chucked out those old dried plants on the kitchen windowsill,” I said. “They’ve been collecting mold for years, and little flies have been buzzing around those plants and preventing me from sleep.”
So maybe having a pair of professional cleaners in the house wasn’t such a bad thing after all. If only they wouldn’t hate cats so much.
The doorbell rang and the vacuum cleaner was turned off. We heard Bella answering the door, then yell something about having no need for the word of Jesus, and slamming the door shut.
We all looked up at that, and curiosity compelled us to get up from our pleasant perch underneath the cherry tree and hurry to the front of the house, where we just caught a glimpse of Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale, Bibles clutched in their hands, looking like Mormon missionaries, neat in their costumes, hair cut to precision, and walking up to the next house, no doubt ready to spread the word of Jesus to anyone who’d listen.
“Looks like they’ve finally been sprung from jail,” I said.
“Which probably means the Johnsons are in jail instead,” said Brutus, whom I’d told the story of last night’s events.
“Who are these Johnsons and why are they in prison?” asked Harriet.
So I told her the story of what happened in Tex’s garden shed, and how Iris and Mira Johnson were apparently a pair of common crooks and burglars.
“Let’s hope Tex gets his painting back,” said Dooley. “It cost twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Harriet stared at my friend. “Twenty-five thousand dollars for a painting of a gnome? Has he lost his mind?”
“Marge seems to think so, but she still loves him,” said Dooley. “Which makes me think that love must be blind.”
So much wisdom coming from one not well-known for dispensing wisdom had us all look at Dooley in surprise.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yes, Dooley,” I said. “You’re absolutely right. Love is blind, and a good thing it is, too, otherwise humanity would probably have died out a long time ago.”
“Not just humanity,” said Harriet with a cheeky glance at her boyfriend.
Just then, the front door opened, and Bella appeared. She was holding a mat and proceeded to hit it several times with a knocker, causing a cloud of dust to emerge from the household object. The dust wafted in our direction, carried by a gentle breeze, and soon we were all coughing and running for cover. Bella, who’d noticed this, smiled a sly little smile, and disappeared inside again.
And as I walked out into the street, to escape the dust particles tickling my throat and nostrils, I found myself looking up at a black van parked in the street. The license plate started with A5.
I frowned at the van, before the penny dropped. “Dooley!” I said. “It’s the van!”
“Oh, it is,” he said.
“Which means the thieves must be around.”
“What thieves?” asked Harriet. “What van?”
“The night Kurt’s house was burgled Dooley and I saw two masked burglars drive off in this van. I only managed to remember the first two digits of the license plate and gave them to Chase. He must have been too busy with his insurance fraud case to look it up. And now here it is. Parked right in front.”
We all shared a look, then slowly turned to look at the house in front of which the van was parked. It was Marge and Tex’s place.
And the only person who was inside… was Bella.
Could it be?
No, of course not.
What a ridiculous thought!
We still had to wait two more hours before our suspicions were confirmed. That’s how long it took for Blanche and Bella to finish their shift. When they walked out, slamming the doors of Odelia’s and Marge’s houses behind them, in amazing synchronicity, I might add, and met on the sidewalk, we held our breath for a moment.
“I think it’s them,” said Brutus.
“And I think it’s not,” said Harriet.
We were all seated in the front garden of Marge and Tex’s house, watching intently.
For a moment, both women exchanged pleasantries, then moved, as one woman, in the direction of the black van. Blanche pressed her key fob, there was the telltale beep beep sound of a car alarm being switched off… and they both got into the van!
“It’s them!” I cried. “They’re the burglars!”
“I knew it,” said Brutus. “I knew all along they were up to no good.”
“No, you didn’t,” said Harriet.
“They’re cat haters!” said Brutus. “What else can you expect!”
It took us a while longer to practice patience, until Odelia came home. To say she was impressed is an understatement.
“The cleaners! Are you sure?” she asked.
We all nodded, all four of us, and when she looked annoyed, I assumed it was because now she’d have to go and find another cleaner. Instead, she said, “I should have known. People who hate cats always have something to hide.”
And with these words, as much an admission of her error in judgment as anything I’d ever heard, she took out her phone and called Chase.
Epilogue
It was with sweet success still fresh in our minds that the four of us enjoyed the first fruits of Tex’s labors at the grill. Our resident grill master has steadily and slowly been improving his craft, but still the humans think it wise to allow us cats to have first dibs.
We can smell a turd from a mile away, and rotten food from even further. And if we dig in and enjoy the nibbles thrown our way, they know that the products of Tex’s grill are safe for human consumption.
“Who would have thought that the cleaners were also a couple of cat burglars,” said Charlene as she happily dug in. She may be skinny but she has an appetite on her that belies her slender form. Uncle Alec, who loves people who like to eat as much as he does, watched on with a distinct look of pride.
“Yeah, we found an entire stash back at their place,” he said. “Jewels, paintings, money… It looked more like an Amazon fulfillment center than a regular home. And lucky for us they hadn’t yet managed to fence off their latest haul, so Mort Hodge, Ida and Kurt have already gotten their precious stuff back.”
“And so have I!” Tex called out from behind the grill. He was sweating profusely, for the day was warm, but he seemed to be in his element, and the fact that Big Gnome #21 had been returned in pristine shape probably had something to do with that.