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.”
“Rats and mice,” Harriet added.
“They’ll be all the food we’ll have.”
“Apart from the occasional leftovers.”
“No more gourmet food for us, Max. No more delicious kibble. No more wet food pouches. No, the moment that baby arrives, the family will close ranks and they’ll kick us all out—to live on the street like common mongrels!”
“So it’s imperative that we come up with a plan of campaign,” said Harriet.
“First,” said Brutus, like the general that he imagined himself to be, “we need to make sure there really is a baby.”
“Second,” said Harriet, “if there is no baby, we need to make sure there won’t be a baby.”
“What?!” I cried, alarmed by this train of thought.
“Look, this is a matter of life or death, Max,” said Harriet sternly.
“A question of it or us,” said Brutus.
“But you guys!” I said.
“It’s very simple, Max,” said Harriet. “All you need to do is make sure that Odelia takes her pills.”
“What pills?” asked Dooley.
“The anti-baby kind,” Harriet snapped.
“They have anti-baby pills?”
“Of course they do. So you just make sure Odelia keeps taking her pills, and we’re in the clear.”
“And how do you propose I do that?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe you mix them in her corn flakes? Or put them in her coffee?”
“But Harriet!” I said. “I can’t do that!”
“It does sound a little harsh when you put it like that, sexy legs,” Brutus said.
“Yeah, I know,” said Harriet. “I heard myself just now and it does sound harsh.”
“Cruel.”
“But essential for our survival!” Harriet cried.
“Maybe babies are not so bad,” said Dooley.
“Dooley, how can you say that!” Harriet hissed.
“Most people seem to like them. And I’m sure they get good reviews on Yelp.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Dooley,” said Brutus, shaking his head.
“Oh, but I do. I’ve seen plenty of documentaries about babies. They’re very nice to look at. Ten little toes, ten little fingers… And that baby fuzz on top of their little heads.”
“Babies are a cat’s natural enemy, Dooley,” said Brutus, “and it’s important we don’t become soft and allow ourselves to be seduced by their innate cuteness.”
“It’s that cuteness that hides their essential dark nature!” said Harriet.
“That cuteness is nature’s way of seducing us to the dark side.”
“But they look like so much fun!” said Dooley.
“Don’t be tempted, Dooley!” said Brutus.
“Yeah, don’t be fooled, Dooley,” said Harriet. “A baby is, for all intents and purposes, the worst thing that can happen to a cat. The absolute worst.”
“Yes, this is war, Dooley. War against a vicious enemy!”
“And what do you do with an enemy, Dooley?” asked Harriet.
“Um… you negotiate a peace treaty?” Dooley suggested.
“No!” Brutus cried. “You attack! No mercy! And that goes for you, too, Max.”
“It does?” I asked.
“Yes. This is the time to show what you’re made of.”
“It is?”
“Absolutely. It’s either us… or it.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling a little queasy all of a sudden.
“If it’s a boy we’ll name it Frank,” said Gran.
“No, let’s name it Jack,” said Scarlett.
“Let’s put a pin in it for the moment,” said Gran, who was in too good a mood to argue with her best friend. “And if it’s a girl? Franky.”
“Or Jacky,” Scarlett suggested. “And of course I’ll be the godmother.”
“Of course,” said Gran good-naturedly.
In fact they were so busy discussing possible names for the baby that they didn’t seem to be paying all that much attention to potential criminals roaming our streets and engaging in all kinds of nefarious activities. But then suddenly a young man came running out of a house and right in front of the car! He was barefoot and only wearing a pair of boxers. The headlights of the Peugeot lit up his features, which were contorted in a look of sheer and utter panic. Maybe he’d seen a baby.
“Stop!” he cried as he waved his hands frantically. “Please, stop!”
And so Gran stopped the car and poked her head out of the window.“What do you think you’re doing, Sonny Jim!” she yelled. “Jumping in front of my car like that.”
“It’s my friend!” the kid cried. “I think he’s dead!”
“What friend? What are you talking about?”
“Todd,” said the kid. “I think he drowned!”
Chapter 19
It was as the kid said: when we hurried out of the car and followed him around the back of the house, we came upon a pool, next to which a body was lying. Immediately Scarlett and Gran started CPR, but it was too late. It was clear that Todd Bond had been dead for some time.
“When did you find him?” asked Gran as Scarlett called the police.
“Just now,” said the kid, who was seated on a pool lounger, hugging himself and rocking backward and forward, clearly in some kind of a state. “I’d gone to bed, and Todd had decided to stay up, saying there was something he needed to do. I woke up to go to the bathroom, and saw that the pool lights were still on—my parents like us to switch them off when we go to bed. And that’s when I saw him. Floating in the pool. I dragged him out, and tried CPR, but it didn’t work!”
“Looks like he was in that pool for a while,” said Gran, studying the dead boy.
A young woman came out of the house, looking sleepy.“What’s going on?” she asked. But then she saw the body of the teenager lying next to the pool, and a look of horror crept up her face. “Oh, my God, Todd!”
She moved forward, but Scarlett held her back.“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do,” she said.
“What happened!” the girl cried, tears springing to her eyes.
“I don’t know,” said the kid. “I went to the bathroom ten minutes ago and saw him in the pool.”
“Oh, my God!” the girl screamed, and looked beside herself with what could only be terrible grief.
“Who are you?” asked Gran, addressing the girl.
“She’s my sister Layla,” said the kid.
“And you are?”
“Scott,” said the kid. “Scott Walcott.”
“And you’re a friend of Todd?”
The kid nodded.“Yeah, we’ve been friends forever.”
“So what happened?”
Scott shrugged.“I don’t know. He must have accidentally stumbled into the pool.”
“And you didn’t hear anything?”
“No, our bedrooms are on the other side of the house.” He buried his head in his hands. “If I hadn’t gone to the bathroom, we wouldn’t have found him until tomorrow morning. He’d have been in that pool all night.”
Sirens could be heard, and moments later the police arrived, and an ambulance. It was as we’d surmised, though: nothing could be done for Todd, and the doctor pronounced him dead at the scene, estimating that he’d probably been dead for over an hour.