“Well, you and the sausage,” I amended.

“I don’t get it,” said Brutus. “What sausage? What are you talking about?”

“Remember Norm’s friend the cockroach? He said the prince had dropped a piece of pork sausage on the floor. But in Abou-Yamen pork is strictly forbidden. It told me that Prince Abdullah was a bad boy who didn’t like to follow the rules of his country too closely. And then there was the fact that he had been caught pickpocketing from the General Store. To me that painted a picture of a royal who was off the reservation. And then there was that message written on the prince’s bathroom mirror. ‘You’ll pay for this.’ Which made me wonder if there was a connection between the famine that had hit Abou-Yamen and the bug spray the prince had imported. Chase made a couple of calls and discovered that Prince Abdullah had been disinherited by his grandfather and kicked out of the country. He was persona non grata.”

“Poor prince,” said Dooley feelingly. “To be kicked out of the country by his own family.”

“And being murdered by his own family,” Brutus pointed out.

“There were probably other transgressions that we will never know about,” I said. “Suffice it to say that the royal house of Abou-Yamen felt that Prince Abdullah had disgraced them. And so he had to die. And who better to task with the murder than a hotel manager in debt?”

“And two not-too-bright crooks,” Brutus added. “To get rid of the prince’s lawyer.”

“It didn’t hurt that Garland McNerlin is an ex-marine,” I said. Something else Chase’s investigation had discovered. It certainly explained the man’s proficiency with firearms.

“I still think it’s all very sad,” Dooley insisted. “Just because the prince liked to eat sausage from time to time…”

“And caused a famine in his country,” I pointed out. “And did who knows what else.”

“Still. They could have forgiven him and allowed him to return to the bosom of the family. The prodigal son, you know.” He sighed. “Everybody loves a bad boy, don’t they?”

“Not the people of Abou-Yamen, apparently.”

Tex supplied us with some more tasty grub, and smiled when he saw the reception his creations were receiving. “I’ll go and make some more,” he promised.

Chase and Uncle Alec had returned from their urgent visit to the bathroom. They still looked a little green around the gills, and their appetite seemed to have taken a hit. We didn’t mind. It just meant there was more for the rest of us. And judging from Harriet, apart from some bubble action, they would soon be right as rain again. After all, it isn’t just us who have to suffer when Gran gets some bee in her bonnet. Both the benefits and the drawbacks of living with a woman like Vesta Muffin should be spread fairly amongst her nearest and dearest.

Just then, Norm settled on the swing next to me. He looked complacent, I thought.

“It’s done,” he announced. “One hundred kiddies, waiting to hatch.”

“Hatch?” I asked.

“Yeah, they’re in the larval state now. Soon they’ll become pupae and then they hatch.” He sighed happily. “Oh, you guys, it’s such a great feeling to be a dad! There’s nothing like it!”

“Where… where did Norma deposit these larvae of hers?” I asked, suddenly getting an awful suspicion. One hundred larvae had to feed, didn’t they? And they were clearly somewhere nearby, or Norm wouldn’t be sitting there chatting with us.

“Like I told you, she found a great place,” said Norm.

“But… where exactly is this great place?”

He vaguely pointed in the direction of the garden house. “Norma found us a good spot right over there. Plenty of high-quality nosh to tide the little ones over until they hatch.”

It suddenly dawned on me that Marge keeps a nice stash of our food in that garden house. Several bags, in fact, for safe storage. “High-quality nosh?”

“Yeah, bags and bags of the stuff. I don’t know who put it there but Norma and I are very grateful. There’s enough food to feed an army.” He laughed happily. “An army of flies!”

I slapped my brow. Looked like our ‘great nosh’ would soon be crawling with maggots!

“Okay, much as I enjoy these conversations, I have to be off,” said Norm. “Norma wants to go for another batch.” He grinned. “Better keep my strength up, you guys.” And with this, he settled on the pork chop that Tex had dropped in my bowl, dribbled some saliva on it, and sucked the liquified piece of pork chop into his mouth. Then he was off, to make more flies!

Brutus and I shared a look. “No good deed goes unpunished, Max,” he said.

And ain’t that the truth.

THE END

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EXCERPT FROM PURRFECT HEIST (MAX 89)

Chapter One

Dooley had been keeping a close eye on his human for the last couple of days, and when he saw her traipsing through Blake’s Field in her underwear, he knew that his concerns had been justified all along. Even his best friend Max had told him that he was exaggerating and that Gran was fine. Obviously she wasn’t fine. She was anything but fine. But since Max was home, he couldn’t tell him that he had been right and that Max was wrong. Not that he would have done so, since that wasn’t Dooley’s style.

He followed Gran from a little distance, making sure she didn’t notice she was being followed. She wouldn’t have liked it since she was a proud old lady and wouldn’t have condoned a chaperone in the form of her own kitty. He wondered where she was going and why she would venture out of the house in the middle of the night, only dressed in her undies. The situation was certainly cause for grave concern. He followed her all the way to the small derelict shack that was still located on the field and hadn’t been taken down, even though the entire neighborhood had asked the field’s owner many times.

He watched from a safe distance as Gran took a seat in front of the shack, on a crooked bench that had seen better days, and folded her hands in her lap, sitting prim and proper. Then she reached into her pocket and took out a bag containing something he couldn’t quite make out. She reached into the bag, and the next moment started singing softly to herself. “Feed the birds,” she sang. “Feed the birds. Tuppence a bag. Tuppence a bag.” And as he watched on in amazement and a rising sense of concern, she started strewing breadcrumbs from the bag. But since it was the middle of the night, there weren’t any birds present to partake in this moderate feast. Instead, a couple of the mice that lived in the old shack emerged from their hiding places, sniffed the air for a moment, and then descended on the breadcrumbs, gobbling them up with relish.

So now Gran had taken to feeding the mice? But why? He simply didn’t understand what was going on, except that he should probably tell somebody before one of the neighbors noticed Gran’s strange behavior and had her locked up in an institution.

He wondered for a moment if he shouldn’t approach the old lady and tell her to go back to bed. He had been lying at the foot of her bed when she had ventured out, but when he had asked her where she thought she was going, she hadn’t replied, but had simply slipped her feet into her slippers and had left the house. And since he didn’t want her to get into trouble, he had decided to follow her and see where she was going.

As he watched, she crumpled up the bag and put it back into her pocket, then rocked back and forth for a moment, humming the same tune under her breath, a happy smile on her face. She was staring before her, seemingly looking at nothing in particular.

The mice had dispensed with the last pieces of bread and returned to their nest to deliver the good news that a new benefactor was in town and that they might be looking forward to many more nights like this, with Gran delivering food to their little home.

Dooley knew the mice since he had made their acquaintance on several occasions, and he could only applaud their good fortune. It still didn’t allay his general sense of unease at this type of behavior from one who he had always admired and loved.

He now wondered if he should tell Marge that her mother had developed this strange new habit of feeding the mice. Marge would worry, of course, since she was that kind of person. But that couldn’t be helped. At least she would tell Tex, and the doctor could take a closer look at the strange behavior his mother-in-law had started displaying lately.

For this wasn’t the first time Gran had ventured out like this, though mostly she had limited her nocturnal sojourn to the backyard. This was the first time she had ventured out beyond the perimeter of her own home. If this kept up, pretty soon she would start wandering all over Hampton Cove, or even the entire island or maybe the state.

As he watched on, he saw that a dark figure had appeared, hiding behind a nearby tree. The dark figure was watching Gran, biding his time. Dooley’s heart jumped into his throat when he realized that his human might be in some kind of grave danger.

Gran hadn’t noticed the dark figure, but then she wasn’t in a state to notice much of anything right now. He wondered if he should warn her that she was being watched.

Then again, it might be one of the neighbors walking their dog in the middle of the night and wondering what Gran was up to. They could be excused for wanting to know what was going on—the same way Dooley wanted to know what she was up to.

He saw that the figure detached themselves from that tree and approached Gran. He still couldn’t make out their face or other distinguishing features, but it was clear that the figure was just as curious to find out what was going on as he himself was.