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“That’s wonderful news, chocolate drop,” said Brutus, though he didn’t look as happy as I would have expected. And as Harriet chatted some more with Cleo, who turned out to be a big fan, I took Brutus aside.

“Everything all right, buddy? You don’t look so happy.”

“Can’t you see what’s happening, Max?” he asked with a pained look on his face.

“Um… Harriet is being showered with compliments and you’re jealous? Is that it?”

“No! She’s getting showered with compliments and soon she’ll start a big career and where does that leave me? Nowhere!”

“But you’ll still be her backing vocalist, right?”

“No! Well, maybe at first, but everybody knows backing vocalists are replaceable. Here today, gone tomorrow. Soon she’ll have admirers all over the world, and she’ll fall for one of them, and then she’ll forget all about me. Just you wait and see. It’ll happen.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Even if Harriet makes it big—and that’s still a very big if—she’ll take you with her, all the way to the top. I’m absolutely sure of it.”

“Didn’t you ever see the Hunger Games?” he asked sadly.

“Um… yeah, I seem to remember I did. But what’s that got to do with anything?”

“You know how that ended, right?”

“Um…” I didn’t really see the connection, and I told him.

“She dumps the boy she knew from back home! One of the Hemsworth brothers. She dumps the Hemsworth when she gets the hots for the new kid she meets on the road. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen with me and Harriet.” His shoulders slumped, and no matter how much I tried to cheer himup, he wouldn’t hear of it. He said he was a Hemsworth now, and soon Harriet would meet her Peeta and that would be the end of it.

Still, we had a job to do, so while Brutus pined, and Harriet giggled at Cleo’s compliments, Dooley and I started a thorough search of the Weskits’ hotel room.

“What are we looking for, exactly, Max?” asked Dooley, and not unreasonably so.

“Um…” I would have said the murder weapon, but with strangulation the murder weapon is actually a pair of hands, and it wasn’t likely we would find those lying around.

“You’ll know it when you find it,” I told him, remembering Odelia’s words.

He repeated these words to himself like a mantra, and then we started snooping around in earnest. I checked every possible square inch of that room, and when we were done I had to admit there wasn’t a thing that really jumped out at me. I knew that Mrs. Weskit loved shopping, as I’d found a massive amount of shopping bags, most of them still unpacked and all with names of boutiques and shoe shops printed on them. I also knew Mr. Weskit loved cufflinks. He had an entire collection and appeared to take them with him on the road. There was also a dressing room stashed with shirts, pants, socks, ties for him and blouses, skirts, dresses and shoes, shoes, shoes for her. But nothing that told me that either of these people was the cold-blooded killer of Miss Chickie Hay.

When Dooley and I met up again in the living room, he shook his head.“I found a book about having babies. It was next to the toilet. Does that tell you anything, Max?”

“It tells me the Weskits may be thinking about family expansion,” I said, “but apart from that not much more.”

“I also found a greeting card sent by Chickie Hay to Laron. It said something about eternal friendship and loving affection. Dated three years ago.”

“So three years ago they were still friends. I wonder what happened to make them fall out like this.”

“We’d have to ask Laron.”

“Gran will have to ask Laron, and I’m sure she will.”

“Over breakfast? Do you think that’ll work?”

“Humans love breakfast, Dooley. Especially the breakfast buffet at a five-star hotel. If there are any secrets the Weskits are liable to spill, they’ll spill them over breakfast.”

Harriet was still talking about herself, and how great she was, and the more she talked the more Brutus gnawed his claws, looking terrified at the prospect of being Hemsworthed. There wasn’t a lot I could do for him, to be honest. If Harriet was going to Hemsworth him, she would. But she wasn’t there yet, and frankly I didn’t think she’d ever be there. These celebrity types talk a good game, but often fail at follow-through.

“Let’s start on the next room,” I told Dooley. We both looked a little wearily at the door to Charlie and Jamie’s room, which was open. Searching a room is a lot of work, especially if you’re a cat and you’re hampered by the lack of opposable thumbs to open cabinets and drawers and such. Still, we managed, and over the course of the next half hour we took a deep dive into the private life of The Dieber. Finally I admitted defeat.

“Nothing,” I said when I met Dooley again.

“I think I may have found something, Max,” he said, and led me deeper into the bedroom the couple shared. There, hidden underneath the bed, was a letter. I plunked down to read it, and soon was smiling from ear to ear.

“You did it, Dooley,” I said.

“I did?” he asked, a smile spreading across his features.

“You solved the murder!”