ôOf course men can cry,ö I said.
ôI thought they didnÆt have tear ducts. If you donÆt have tear ducts, you canÆt cry.ö
ôNow why wouldnÆt men have tear ducts?ö
Dooley shrugged.ôI just figure men are different, you know. Less sensitive.ö
ôMen might like to think that theyÆre impervious to the finer feelings, but theyÆre not,ö I said. ôJust look at Brutus. He was crying last night, wasnÆt he?ö
ôYes, but Brutus is not a man, heÆs a cat.ö
Now there was a sample of sound reasoning I couldnÆt argue with. When weÆd arrived home last night, well ahead of Harriet and Brutus, IÆd checked HarrietÆs tablet, and discovered that contrary to what sheÆd claimed, she hadnÆt canceled her Pettr account. On the contrary, I could tell that sheÆd been very active, chatting with severalpets that might be described as æboyfriend materialÆ by connoisseurs. When I subsequently told Brutus, his eyes had gone all moist, and more than one tear had flowed from his eyes.
ôBut why, Max!ö heÆd cried. ôWhy did she deceive me!ö
ôIÆm not sure,ö I said. ôThough her chats are all pretty innocuous if you ask me. Just your usual æHi, how are youÆ kind of stuff. Nothing too passionate or suspicious.ö
ôStill,ö he said quietly, and had then sort of slumped off, the picture of a broken cat.
ôPoor Brutus,ö said Dooley now. ôIt must be tough for him to know that Harriet is cheating on him with some other cat.ö
ôWe donÆt know that, Dooley,ö I said. ôAll we know for sure is that sheÆs on Pettr and has been chatting up a storm with several potential suitors.ö
ôMaybe sheÆs like Norwelclass="underline" she feels Brutus is more like a friend than a boyfriend after all the time theyÆve been together. Like a warm blanket at night, you know, or a hot-water bottle, but not exactly the kind of lover that sets your heart and soul alight.ö
I frowned at my friend.ôPlease donÆt mention your æhot-water bottleÆ theory to Brutus. Unless you want to make him cry again.ö
ôOh, of course not. Though itÆs obvious we have to do something, Max. After all, if Harriet decides to get involved with another cat, things are going to get very awkward for all of us.ö
The thought had occurred to me. ItÆs hard to go from being a couple to being mere friends, especially when youÆre living together under the same roof. And even harder when a fifth member would suddenly insert themselves into our lives.
The car was speeding along, though Chase made sure, as he always did, to respect the speed limit. Which is odd, since as a cop he is allowed to switch on that flashy thing and proceed through traffic at a high rate of speed. But I guess we werenÆt in a high-speed pursuit right now, chasing some suspect, so a more pedestrian pace was satisfactory.
ôWe should talk to Harriet,ö said Dooley now. ôAnd find out whatÆs going on.ö
ôI know, but first we need to make sure we catch her alone. It might be awkward if Brutus is there. And besides, sheÆll probably go for staunch denial if we confront her.ö
ôSo we have to break her down, Max. WeÆll have to take a page from ChaseÆs book. Like he broke down Norwell, and made him tell the truth, we have to make Harriet confess all.ö
ôAnd how do you propose we do that? Harriet is no Norwell Kulhanek, Dooley. SheÆs made of much sterner stuff. In fact the only way you break down HarrietÆs defense is if youÆre a man of iron.ö Or a cat of iron, for that matter.
ôSo we adopt the good cop, bad cop routine. YouÆll be the good cop, and IÆll be the bad one.ö
I studied my friend. His natural cheerfulness, his guileless countenance.ôWhat makes you think you can be the bad cop?ö I asked finally.
ôItÆs all about throwing Harriet off balance, Max,ö he said, his excitement palpable. ôIf youÆre going to start shouting at her, sheÆll simply brush you off, since sheÆs used to that kind of behavior. But what if I start shouting at her? SheÆll be so shocked sheÆll immediately break down and tell us everything.ö
ôMh,ö I said, not fully convinced, though I could see where he was coming from. The surprise attack.
ôJust you wait and see. IÆll make her talk.ö
I smiled.ôTough guy, huh?ö I said.
ôYou better believe it!ö And he gave me a sort of Clint Eastwood squint. Though coming from him it looked more as if he had something in his eyes. Like a fruit fly.
WeÆd arrived at what looked like a school, and when I looked closer I saw that indeed it was such an institution, for I saw several hundred kids milling about behind a fence. There was of course a chance that it was a POW camp, but even though they looked pretty bored and bad-tempered, they also looked too well fed and well-dressed to be inmates.
ôWhat are we doing here?ö I asked Odelia, for I may be a broad-minded cat, able to get along with any creature, from rat to raven, but I firmly draw the line at teenagers, which are possibly the most noxious species ever created by an otherwise benevolent God.
ôWeÆre going to have another chat with Emma Kulhanek,ö Odelia explained.
Of course. Emma was a teacher, wasnÆt she? And what better place to interview a teacher than in their natural habitat?
We passed through long, deserted corridors, filled with lockers and that strange odor that your garden-variety teenager spreads: a certain mustiness mixed with cheap deodorant, until we found the teacherÆs room. We patiently waited outside, while Chase ventured into the lionÆs den, and soon returned with Emma, who looked appropriately concerned. When the constabulary pays you a visit at work, it must be serious.
ôWhatÆs wrong?ö she asked immediately, and I could tell she knew Odelia hadnÆt come here to discuss the next book club meeting.
She led us into an empty classroom, which was filled with all manner of strange contraption: test tubes and glass jars filled with mysterious liquids, and we all took a seat around a student desk. Or at least the humans took their seats, while Dooley and I decided to inspect the classroom, going for a clockwise inspection along the perimeter, as cats do.
And while we sniffed all the peculiar odors that permeated the space, Chase launched his first salvo.ôYou lied to us, Emma. Norwell wasnÆt home all night like you said. He left the house at midnight and didnÆt return until much later.ö
EmmaÆs mouth opened and then closed again, fear etched on her features and reflected in her eyes. ôI-I-I,ö she stutteredùnever a good sign.
ôDid you know he left the house?ö asked Odelia, adopting a kinder tone.
Tears had suddenly sprung into EmmaÆs eyes and she now pressed them closed and nodded furiously.
ôSo why didnÆt you tell us?ö
ôI thought if I did, it might cause trouble for Norwell.ö
ôBy not telling us you caused a lot more trouble for your husband,ö said Chase sternly.
ôI know. IÆm sorry.ö
ôSo tell us what actually happened that night,ö said Odelia.
Dooley and I had returned from our inspection and now sat at the womanÆs feet, studying her intently. They say you can tell if a person lies from the tone of their voice and their facial expression, but IÆve found that this isnÆt necessarily true. There are some skilled liars out there, who can look and sound truthful while still concocting one lie after another. Still, I like to think IÆm as fine a feline lie detector as has ever walked the earth, and I was determined to put my skill to the test now.
ôNorwell had told me he was going to work late, and not to wait up. So IÆd gone to bed and fallen asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night, and when I looked at my alarm clock I saw that it was close to two oÆclock. I heard a key in the lock, and then I heard how Norwell walked up the stairs and went into the bathroom, then into the spare bedroom. So I knew heÆd left the house at some point.ö She directed a pleading look at Odelia. ôBut I swear I didnÆt know where heÆd gone.ö
ôYou didnÆt ask him about it in the morning?ö
She shook her head.ôI just figured heÆd gone for a walk. HeÆs been under a lot of pressure lately, with this hack, and heÆs been working much too hard. I didnÆt want to add more pressure by questioning him.ö