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“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss, Hector,” said Helga. “You know my George wouldn’t breathe a word of what happened to that detective woman.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. He’s always had it in for me, George has. And if he sees a chance to get me booted out, he’ll take it—mark my words.”

“Stuff and nonsense. George would never do that. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

Hector looked up. He’d finally spotted us and heaved a deep sigh. “Cats,” he said, proving he didn’t miss a trick. “When will she ever stop taking in those horrible furballs.”

Helga giggled.“They’re not her furballs, silly. They’re that detective woman’s cats. Opal told me to take care of them as if they’re her own. And that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

“Oh, go on, then. Spoil them rotten. See if I care,” said Hector, clearly a man who’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.

Unless…

“Could this be the guy who poisoned Opal’s coffee?” I asked the others.

“He looks like a killer,” Brutus said. “He has that serial killer look.”

“And how would you know what a serial killer looks like?” asked Harriet.

“I’ve seen them on TV plenty of times,” said Brutus defensively. “The squinty-eyed look, the pinched face, the receding hairline. He’s got serial killer written all over him.”

“He could be the one,” Dooley said as he studied this Hector fellow, who was now draining his glass of port and then legged it out of the kitchen and into the corridor, presumably to return to his duties, whatever they were.

“Who better to put cyanide in a person’s coffee than someone with access to the kitchen?” I said. “And he could easily have sabotaged Opal’s car, too.”

“We’ll have to tell Odelia,” said Dooley. “She’ll know what to do.”

Just then, Prunella entered the kitchen looking as high and mighty as before.

We all went quiet, and I could feel the muscles in my hind legs tensing up, in full fight-or-flight mode.

“So who are you, then?” asked Prunella, allowing us the privilege of hearing her voice for the first time. She had a high and melodious voice. Very pleasant, I had to admit.

“I’m Max,” I said, figuring I better make the introductions. “And these are Dooley, Harriet and Brutus. We’re Odelia Poole’s cats—the New York detective your human hired?”

“Oh, right.” The cat paused for a moment, then said. “So who are you, then?”

“Um…”

She stared at me, clearly awaiting my response.“Well, Max,” I said with a laugh, figuring she was having me on. “Like I said, Odelia Poole’s cats?”

She stared at me, and blinked.“We have a very nice pool, thank you very much. Though I never go near it. Pools don’t particularly appeal to me. I can’t swim, you see.” She smiled. “Well, then. This has been so much fun. Gave me a real appetite.”

And to prove she meant what she said, she moved over to a large bowl which Helga had just filled with delicious-looking pat?, and dug in voraciously. Within seconds the bowl was empty. Frankly I’d never seen anything like it.

“Yum,” said Prunella. “That was nice.” She then did a double take when she spotted me. “Hey, who are you, and what are you doing in my kitchen?”

“You’re kidding, right?” said Harriet. “Max has already told you his name twice. Are you messing with us or what?”

“Yeah, are you messing with us?” Brutus growled, taking a step closer to the cat.

Prunella blinked again.“I don’t like messes. Good thing we have Helga. She doesn’t mind cleaning up any mess I make.” She then licked her lips. “Say, I’m hungry.” She glanced up at Helga, who gave her a bright smile.

“Hungry again, eh, princess? Come here, I’ve got just the thing for you.” And she placed a large slab of fish on a plate.

“Yum,” said Prunella cheerfully. “Watch me dig in.” And she proceeded to attack the fish as if it was the first food she’d had in weeks.

“Now there’s a good girl,” said Helga with satisfaction.

Prunella, who’d been licking herself, suddenly seemed to notice us for the first time. She started violently. “Hey! Who are you and what are you doing in my kitchen?”

Chapter 8

Dinner came and went, and so, unfortunately, did Chase and Uncle Alec, who needed to get to their hotel so they could check in and have a good night’s sleep before their conference started the next day.

And then it was time for Opal to show her guests their lodgings for the night. Turns out they weren’t staying in the main house—too conspicuous, Opal thought, in case her assailant was a member of her household staff—and to Odelia’s surprise she’d relegated them to the guesthouse instead. But then when she saw the guesthouse, it didn’t look like a guesthouse at all. For one thing, itwas bigger than Odelia’s own place and that of her parents combined. And for another, it looked as luxurious as the main house.