“Looks like every cat in Hampton Cove will be there!” cried Dooley excitedly.
“Who doesn’t want to meet Kit Katt and Koh?” I said, equally excited about the prospect of meeting our heroes in the flesh.
“What are they doing in Hampton Cove?” asked Harriet.
“Probably filming new episodes for their show,” said Brutus.
“Maybe they’ll let us guest star!” Dooley said.
“To guest star on a show you have to be exactly that, Dooley,” I said. “A star.”
“We could be extras,” said Harriet, the prospect clearly enticing.
By now it looked like a minor migration was taking place, and I saw and nodded a greeting at many a familiar face. The closer to the town center we got, the bigger the crowd. Almost like going to a rock concert, if rock concerts weren’t so terribly loud and rock music so perfectly horrible to listen to. Nope. Cats do not like rock music. Let me be clear on that.
The action seemed to be taking place near the old industrial zone, on the other side of town. A few deserted factories awaited demolition, to be replaced with a commercial park. The factory where all activity was centered was the old Beluga Watchcase Factory.
The brown-brick five-story structure was derelict, with windows shattered and ivy covering a big part of the building. Cats seemed to have converged on a window on the ground floor, and sat staring inside, much the same way we’d been trying to get a peek at the pound innards just before.
“Why would Kit Katt and Koh be filming their show in such a horrible place?” asked Harriet, regarding the decaying factory building disdainfully. “It will show our lovely little town in a very unfavorable light.”
Like any town, Hampton Cove has its eyesores, and these remnants of the past are never featured on the brochures doled out by the local tourist board. Harriet was right. Why would the production team of our favorite show pick this horrible spot to film the new season’s episodes?
“Maybe Kit Katt is trapped here by a gang of crooks,” Dooley suggested. “And it’s Koh to the rescue as usual.”
That was a great explanation, and I perked up. But when we approached the heart of the hubbub, we encountered nothing but irate cats, all screaming at the top of their lungs about something.
“It’s an outrage!” one Exotic Shorthair was yelling. “An absolute outrage!”
“I knew she was too good to be true!” a Maine Coon screamed. “I said so from the start!”
What it was they were so upset about was difficult to determine, as they were all screaming and venting their anger but hard to pin down to the particulars of their outrage.
We moved to the front of the milling masses and finally made it all the way to the source of the uproar. A window offered a look at what had once been the factory floor where diligent workers had manufactured watchcases by the thousands, to be used in the famous and elegant Beluga watches. Now all that remained was a cement floor and a bunch of furniture.
“Looks like someone lives here,” said Harriet over the din of the other cats.
She was right. There was a bed, visibly slept in, a table with pizza boxes and Chinese food cartons scattered on top of them, a couple of chairs, and a couch where two men were watching television, unconcerned about being watched by Hampton Cove’s cat population.
On TV, a CNN breaking news story was unfolding, with footage of Virginia Salt being shown. The actress who was now better known as her alter ego Kit Katt, was being hounded by a camera crew as she made valiant attempts to walk from her car to her house.
“What’s going on?” I asked anyone who would listen.
Next to me, suddenly Shanille materialized.“Oh, hey, Max. Haven’t you heard? Kit Katt hates cats! Can you believe it? She’s been secretly filmed kicking a cat!”
“What?!” cried Harriet. “That’s not possible. She’s Kit Katt! She loves cats!”
“That’s only for the show,” said Shanille, eyeing Harriet with some trepidation. She clearly hadn’t forgotten the cat fight she and the feisty Persian had gotten into before. “In real life the actress who plays Kit Katt likes to kick cats for fun!”
And as we watched, a rerun of the footage was shown. It was clearly shot with a smartphone, as the footage was shaky and the lighting was lousy. Filmed at night, it showed Victoria Salt stumbling out of her house, a garbage bag in hand. She was unsteady on her feet, and had probably been hitting the bottle a little too enthusiastically. Three cats were enjoying a leisurely evening atop the trash container when Victoria came upon them.
First she seemed to hurl a few well-chosen insults at the cats, then she was throwing the garbage bag at them, and when one cat didn’t move fast enough, she kicked it so hard it flew through the air and landed ten feet away before skittering away as fast as it could.
She then teetered back into the house, and that’s where the short reel ended.
“Oh. My. God,” said Harriet. “Kit Katt hates cats!”
“What if that had been Koh?” asked Shanille. “Can you imagine?”
“I can,” said Harriet, and it was obvious the two lady cats were fast friends once more.
“I don’t like this, Max,” said Dooley. “Kit Katt was my hero. And now she’s not.”
“How the mighty have fallen,” Brutus grumbled, shaking his head. “What a mess.”
All around us, cats were expressing their anger and disappointment, and it was obvious now that there probably wouldn’t be a new season ofKit Katt& Koh, filmed in Hampton Cove or elsewhere.
And that’s when I saw it. One of the men had gotten up from the couch and now stood staring out the window, mouth agape, eyes wide, at the sea of cats gathered in front of the old factory building. He stirred his colleague, and now they both stood goggling at us.
I was goggling, too. For one of the men was short with a strawberry nose and a purple spot on his upper lip. The other one was tall with a wispy little mustache.
I’d found them. I’d found Dick Dickerson’s duck poop killers.
Chapter 47
Odelia drove at breakneck speed through Hampton Cove’s suburb, making Chase grip the dashboard and admonish her not to kill any pedestrians or other vulnerable road users. She made it to the other side of town in what probably was some kind of world record, and parked her car right next to Uncle Alec’s in front of the old watchcase factory, now deserted.
Or at least that’s what she thought. In front of the factory hundreds of cats had gathered, and on top of the hood of Uncle Alec’s car, Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus sat.
Her uncle greeted her jovially. He looked healthy and rosy.
“Hey, Uncle Alec,” she said, getting out of the car. “Where’s Tracy?”
“Flew out to Paris two hours ago. Shooting another beer commercial.”
“Hey, you guys,” she said to her four cats. “What’s going on here?”
Chase, who’d joined her, gave her a strange look. “Dammit, Poole. You scare me sometimes. Do you know you sounded like you were talking cat just now?”
She’d totally forgotten about Chase. So she laughed lightly. “And what if I was?”
Now he laughed, then Uncle Alec also laughed, and then they were all laughing.
Very funny.
Max was talking, though, and she listened intently. Then she shot a quick look in the direction of the factory building.“I have a hunch we better check this out, Chief,” she said.
“A hunch, huh?” her uncle said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Check what out?” asked Chase. “I don’t get it.”
“You know our Odelia,” said Uncle Alec. “Her and her hunches. We better take a look, son.” And he started in the direction of the small feline assembly. By now they were dispersing, moving in groups of twos and threes and fours, and they all looked outraged.
She didn’t wonder. If what Max had just told her was true, a lot ofKit Katt& Koh fans would be extremely disappointed. It was the other thing he said, though, that was more important.