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When people refer to the view from the top, I never thought this was it. Somehow IÆd always imagined it as something magical, wonderful and exhilarating. I can tell you it certainly was exhilarating, but definitely not a lot of fun!

We saw the world sort of swoosh by, people and houses and cars a kind of blur, though that could have been my eyes watering up from the wind, of course. And then there were the flies hitting me in the face when I least expected it, and at least one big bumblebee. Lucky for the beeùand meùit wasnÆt hurt in the collision, and after grumbling something that didnÆt sound very nice, it simply flew on.

Finally we arrived at our destination, which was a house in the suburbs, and Chase braked so hard and so suddenly that we actually slid from the roof and down the windshield. And I know you think cats are all-purpose pets, but using us as windshield wipers is taking things a little too far in my estimation.

The good thing was that as we slipped down the windshield, making a sort of squeaky sound, we got a first-row seat to watch Odelia and ChaseÆs twin expressions of horror.

ôOh, my God, Chase!ö Odelia cried. ôWe forgot about the cats!ö

ôSorry, babe,ö the cop grunted, then got out and subjected us to a brief inspection. ôThey look fine,ö he finally determined, and promptly lost interest in our precarious fate.

Lucky for us Odelia is a more responsible pet parent, and took more time to make sure we were all right, and hadnÆt been harmed in the taping of this sequence. We could always have lodged a formal complaint with American Humane, of course, but Odelia was right: we might both be shakenùor even stirredùbut we were fundamentally fine.

More police cars arrived, and soon a kind of impressive police presence built up in front of that inoffensive house in the suburbs.

ôWhatÆs going on?ö I asked. ôWhy are we here?ö

ôOne of ChaseÆs officers has found a name that appears on both the Valina Fawn membership list and the Brookwell membership list,ö Odelia explained. ôA person named Alec March, who has a criminal record and looks like our most promising suspect yet.ö

ôA criminal record for what?ö I asked as I flicked one final fly from my corpus.

ôMurder,ö said Odelia with a touch of ominousness.

Suddenly a voice from inside the house shouted,ôDonÆt come any closerùI have a hostage and I will not hesitate to shoot!ö And to show us he meant what he said, Alec Marchùfor I assumed it was himùsqueezed off a shot.

Immediately the officers present all ducked down behind their squad cars, and the siegeùor hostage situationùwas now well underway.

ôI wonder who the hostage is, Max,ö said Dooley, like me hiding next to the carÆs wheel. But as we glanced over, the man of the hour briefly appeared in the window, a gun pressed to a womanÆs head, and as we got a good look at the both of them, we gasped in shock. For in that brief moment IÆd recognized the hostage asà Ida Baumgartner!

ôItÆs Ida,ö I heard Odelia say.

Ida Baumgartner is one of TexÆs most loyal patients, never shy of coming up with a new disease sheÆs suffering from. SheÆs very big on Dr. Google and can invent a new disease every day of the week and twice on Sunday. The woman has survived all the different cancers known to man, heart atrophy, dengue fever, malaria, herpesà

ôLooks like Ida has finally met her match,ö said Dooley. ôA disease that might prove incurable.ö

ôIÆm not sure prisonersÆ rights activists or their spokesperson Kim Kardashian would approve of referring to an ex-convict as a disease, Dooley,ö I said, ôbut IÆm afraid youÆre right. This is not a malady that can be fixed by popping a pill or sticking on a band-aid.ö

ôHeeeeelp!ö now Ida cried. ôThis man has a gun!ö

That much was already obvious, of course.

ôI came here for a date and he suddenly pulled a gun on me!ö

Now this was news to all of us.

ôIda is here on a date?ö I asked.

ôShe must have created a profile on Pettr,ö said Dooley.

ôPettr is strictly for pets, Dooley,ö I said. ôItÆs far more likely she created a profile on Valina Fawn and made a match with our Alec March.ö

ôI wonder how that algorithm works, Max. To match a known murderer with a hypochondriac like Ida Baumgartner.ö

ôI have no idea.ö We could have asked Norwell, who created part of the algorithm, but since the man was now lying dead amongst his wine bottles that would be a hard ask. ôMaybe hypochondria and homicidal ideation share certain traits?ö I suggested.

ôSo do you think all murderers are hypochondriacs?ö

ôDoubtful,ö I said. ôThough hypochondria could lead to murder, when a hypochondriac doesnÆt find a receptive doctor to listen to their concerns and decides to shoot them.ö

ôHeeeeeeelp meeeeeeeeee!ö Ida was bellowing.

ôOh, shut up!ö her attacker cried.

I could see the man, and thought that he didnÆt look like much. He sported a shaved head, several scars on his face, and a large swastika tattoo on his neck. Not exactly IdaÆs dream lover I should have thought. Then again, Photoshop is the online daterÆs friend.