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“How is that going, Harriet?” asked Dooley innocently.

“It’s not,” Harriet snapped. She then gave me a sweet look. “Max? Why don’t you give us the skinny on all the cases you’ve worked, and we’ll ask Scarlett to read them out in our new podcast?”

“Scarlett again?” I said. “So she’s able to speak our language now, is she?”

“No, she’s not.”

“Hopeless case, that one,” Brutus grumbled, making a throwaway gesture with his paw.

“But she does have a great voice,” said Harriet. “And so I was thinking—”

“We were thinking,” Brutus corrected her.

“That maybe you could tell your stories to Odelia, and then Odelia could type them up and Scarlett could read them on this podcast thingy.”

“Why are you asking me?” I said. “You know the stories just as well as I do.”

“Well, there is the small matter of royalties,” Harriet said.

“We’ll share them,” said Brutus. “Equal shares for all of us.”

“Oh, goodie,” said Dooley.

“Not you, Dooley,” Brutus grunted. “You’re not a part of this.”

“You’re the invisible cat, Dooley,” I quipped.

“Just so,” said Brutus. “So that’s fifty percent for me, and fifty percent for Harriet, and…” He frowned. “Mh. There seems to be something wrong with my math.”

“Oh, Brutus, baby doodle, it’s simple. Max gets ten percent as the original author, and the rest is to be divided between us as the podcast creators.”

“And Scarlett?” I asked. “Doesn’t she get anything?”

“Oh, she’ll do it for the exposure,” said Harriet. “And so will Odelia. This will be great for that little paper of hers.”

And so Brutus and Harriet took off, to discuss the terms of their new podcast deal, and Dooley and I laid down our heads and decided to have a little postprandial nap.

“What are the chances that this new podcast will take off, Max?” asked Dooley.

“About as much as they’re willing to offer Scarlett and Odelia,” I said, yawning. “In other words: zero.”

“It doesn’t seem fair, Max.”

“What doesn’t, Dooley?”

“Well, you’re the one who solves all these murders, and the only ones who get credit for it are Odelia, Chase and Uncle Alec.”

“That’s life, Dooley,” I said. “Besides, I don’t need credit. As long as I get plenty of kibble and cuddles, I’m a happy cat.”

“Still, it doesn’t seem right.”

I just shrugged. Dooley might have a point, but frankly I didn’t really care about fair. As long as the people who had committed these terrible crimes got their just reward, it was fine by me. But then someone shouted my name, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that all the humans around the table had raised their glasses, and were toasting… me!

“To Max!” said Odelia. “The greatest cat detective ever!”

“To Max!” the others all chimed in.

“Oh, you guys,” I muttered, and I may or may not have teared up at this point.

Okay, so I do like to get the credit.

What do you expect?

I’m only feline, after all.