Clarice shrugged.“I was hanging out at the Lodge, like I usually do, when Dieber showed up with his entourage. He needed a weekend to decompress after playing a grueling show, and decided the Lodge was the place to do it. His entourage left, and he stayed behind all by himself. And that’s when we struck up a firm friendship. I would keep him company as he contemplated fate and his place in the world, and he would feed me the best damn cat food I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. Actual raw steak, the most delicious fish filets you can imagine, prime ribs…” Her eyes softened. “I think for the firsttime in my life I was in love.”
“With the prime ribs?” asked Dooley.
“With a human, doofus. The guy has a way with cats. Never thought I’d ever feel that way about any human again but Charlie managed the impossible. When his retreat was over, he told me he wanted to adopt me, and I decided to let him.”
“But I thought you loved your life!” I said. “Roaming around—listening to no one. Carving your own path…”
“Yeah, that all sounds great until you’ve actually lived it. Trust me, it’s not much fun having to scrounge around for food all day long. Much easier to have some dude like Dieber provide it for you.” She darted a quick look at me. “I get you now, Max. I mean, I know I’ve made fun of you in the past. Calling you a pansy-assed namby-pamby yellow-belly sissy, but I can see the allure of living with a human who truly cares about you. It’s a pretty sweet deal.”
“A Dieber Babe,” I repeated. “I just—”
“What?” she asked, her eyes suddenly flashing darkly. “You gonna judge me? Huh?”
I quickly held up a peaceable paw.“Oh, no. Of course not. No judgments, Clarice. Uh-uh. I think you look great. Doesn’t she look great, Dooley?”
“You look amazing,” Dooley said.
Clarice smiled—the first time I’d ever seen her smile. “Thanks. I feel great. In fact I haven’t felt this great in ages.”
“Do you… still catch mice though, and enjoy the occasional rat?” I inquired.
She laughed.“Sure. When you’ve got your own private chef all you want to do is gobble up a few stinking rats.”
“You’ve got your own private chef?” asked Dooley, eyes wide.
“Nothing but the best is good enough for Dieber’s Babes,” she said with a grin.
I had to hand it to her. She’d struck gold. And I was happy for her. I really was. Then again… Did she still have what it took to get rid of a certain nasty feline intruder?
“We were actually looking for you, Clarice,” I said, deciding to get down to brass tacks. “Diego has been pestering us again, and I was wondering—”
“Well, talk of the devil,” Clarice said, darting a pointed look behind us.
Even before I’d turned around, Diego’s silky voice already rang out. “Well, who do we have here? Looks like the gang’s back together again. Clarice—always a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is all yours,” she said with a menacing glance at the new arrival.
When I finally laid my eyes on Diego, I saw he wasn’t alone. “Harriet!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, Max. Try to keep up,” said the pretty Persian with a flash of annoyance in her green eyes. “Diego and I were invited to join Dieber’s party. The real question is: what areyou doing here?”
“Odelia brought us here,” I said, raising my chin in a gesture of defiance.
“Not one of those silly murder investigations again,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “When is Odelia finally going to see that cats aren’t outfitted to play amateur sleuth?”
Her words were so outrageous I had a hard time coming up with a response.
“I thought you liked sleuthing, Harriet,” said Dooley, giving her a somber look.
“Oh, I liked it well enough when it was all fun and games, but now it’s turned into something much more sinister and I, for one, want nothing more to do with the dreadful business.” She brushed a whisker. “All that death and decay. It’s so depressing.” She batted her eyes at Diego. “Brutus is very much into all of that stuff. Good thing you’re not, Diego.”
Diego visibly shivered.“You’re absolutely right, babe. One shouldn’t get too mixed up in the affairs of men. Let them deal with their homicidal maniacal tendencies all by themselves. Us cats should rise above that terrible habit of slaying one’s brethren.”
“Well spoken, darling,” said Harriet. “You’re so smart.”
“And you’re so beautiful.”
“Oh, you’re too sweet.”
“Most beautiful babe ever. Yes, you are.”
“Ooh. Kissy kissy, darling.”
The cloying scene was too much for me, and I decided to remove myself before I threw up my breakfast. And as I was walking away, I saw to my surprise how Dieber himself approached, his eyes focused on but one thing: the white Persian we all knew as Harriet.
Chapter 10
It had taken some time for Odelia and Chase to be admitted to the house. Even though the security guard at the front gate had allowed them in, the one posted at the house had taken his time to study their credentials. It appeared as if he’d never seen a police badge before, and he’d even called Uncle Alec to check if Chase was a real cop or just some crazed fan trying to get close to the Dieber under false pretenses. When he’d started reading Chase’s badge number to Odelia’s uncle and giving him Chase’s description, thecop had finally had enough and threatened to arrest the guy on the spot for obstruction of justice.
That had done the trick, and they’d finally been allowed to proceed.
The vestibule was large and consisted of white marble walls, floors and even ceilings. It was the life-sized horse that dominated the entrance that made Odelia draw up short. She stared at the horse, which was white and rearing up on its hind legs. On top of the horse sat an equally life-sized Charlie Dieber, his arm raised as if he was about to invade some foreign nation, his eyes fixed on the horizon and his expression dead serious.
On the side of the horse a slogan had been sprayed, which read,‘Be Who You May Be – Charlie Dieber.’
“Charlie Dieber. Philosopher,” Chase murmured as he joined her. “It’s a side of him I’ve never seen before.”
“Well, he does write all of his own songs,” she said.
“Of course he does.”
They moved beyond Dieber the Conqueror and deeper into the house. To her surprise the place was pretty much empty. They passed through a spacious living room, where gigantic portraits on the walls announced, in case they still had doubts, that they’d entered the world of the Dieber. Six Warhol-type portraits adorned the space, each in a different bright color, and each depicting Dieber’s heavily-tattooed torso. Tattoos of dollar bills, snakes and even Indiana Jones’s famous fedora and whip covered every inch of skin.
Odelia gulped slightly. It was one thing to be a fan of this young man, but another to be confronted with this wealth of self-absorption and vanity. Then again, if you’re going to become a global pop star, a healthy dose of egomania probably comes with the territory.
“Where is everybody?” asked Chase as they sauntered through the living room.
“They’re probably in mourning,” said Odelia. “Or hunkered down in the basement bunker, trying to come up with a strategy on how to deal with this attack on Charlie’s life.”
They entered a large kitchen, and came upon a beehive of activity—three chefs cooking up a storm while servers came and went, carrying trays and silver platters.
More trays stood on the countertops, laden with hors-d’oeuvres and other amuse-bouches, while dozens of flutes were being filled with pink champagne by rattled-looking kitchen personnel, before being snapped up by the servers and carted outside.
Noise and music had them both turn in the direction of the window, and that’s when Odelia saw that a pool party was in full swing. Girls in bikinis were jumping into the pool and playing a game of water ball, while dozens of others stood rocking out to loud music.