“I can’t believe they’re gone!” Savoy sobbed and allowed me to hug away her tears.
“There . . . There . . . Who’s gone?” I asked as I kept my arms around my Belovéd.
“Where are the Duke and Duchess?” The Kontinental Kat chimed in.
“They left me alone to go to the groomers.” Savoy answered my Boss.
“Phew . . . I thought they had been catnapped or something . . .” I observed.
“You don’t understand! They’re gone!” Savoy redirected my focus.
“But you just meowed . . .” I was losing the plot.
“Not my folks . . . My favourite toys! They’re gone!” Savoy sobbed some more.
“Oh, is that all . . .” I meowed with relief.
Savoy shoved me away. “Is that all?” She made those meows sound callous.
“I mean . . .” I was desperate to explain.
Instead, a shriek, the likes of which were never heard . . . Not from a feline anyway. “WTF?!” Apparently, the Duchess had a bit of a potty mouth!
Standing in the doorway were the Duke and Duchess of Graydon, shock clearly, displayed on their faces.
“Savoy?!” The Duke called in concern.
My Belovéd rushed to her Dad while the Kontinental Kat and I investigated the source of the mess.
“It looks as if the culprit came in through this window.” The chubby, black cat reasoned.
“It’s those d**n Tomcats after my baby.” The Duchess screeched.
I looked around to see to whom she referred and before I knew it, the Kontinental Kat and I were being chased out of Graydon Manor by the dowager Duchess.
As we ran around the room, I called to Savoy, “Does she always use such colourful language around you, Sweetheart?”
“Get the Floof out!” The Duchess ran after us.
The Kontinental Kat managed to survey the mess before we slipped out of the living room and into the hallway. We could hear the Duchess cursing and swearing at my Savoy. I nearly returned to defend my Lady’s honour when Savoy joined us in the foyer.
“You better not hang around. My Mom is livid. She’ll be hitting the bottle soon . . .” Savoy warned us.
“What can we do to help, my Love?” I offered.
“Find out who took my spongy balls! I have to go read to Hamish this afternoon. That’s if I can get away from the mess in there. I may have to help clean it up.” Savoy stated solemnly.
“We’ll take the case.” The Kontinental Kat agreed.
“I can’t pay you. And I get the feeling my pocket money will be confiscated over the next few weeks.” Savoy looked towards the cursing coming from the living room.
“I have an idea . . .” The Boss grinned. Then he added, “We may need your assistance, though.”
“You will?” Savoy asked.
“We will?” I added at the same time.
“How would you like to go to the cat charity concert tonight?” The Kontinental Kat asked.
I could feel my head about to explode. Was my Boss asking my girl for a date, right in front of me?!
“As Dash’s date, we could use your astute observations, to ferret out the truth while undercover.” The Kontinental Kat explained.
I didn’t know whether to be grateful or insulted?
“Oh, yes please . . . I’ve always fancied being a private eye.” Savoy clapped paws. She was overjoyed.
“SAVOY!” The bellow came from the living room.
The Boss and I scattered out the door as Savoy returned to the scene of the crime.
*********
I have to admit, I was in a bit of a daze. Was I really going to get to work with Savoy? I’d give anything to spend as much time with her as I could. But would it hurt our close relationship?
“Boss, are you really thinking of hiring Savoy?” I asked hopefully.
“She might be an asset to the agency. She’d be able to get into places that neither one of us could.” He answered truthfully.
“I don’t want her doing anything dangerous.” I added.
The chubby, black cat chuckled and meowed, “You’d be there to save her . . . Or she’d be there to save you.” He added.
The thought brought me such happiness. Maybe it was a good thing? “Where are we going?” I asked as we walked along the streets of Toronto.
“We’re here.” The Kontinental Kat stopped in front of a recording studio and I followed him inside. Before we climbed the stairs, Hamish came down, hurriedly, holding onto the handrail.
“Checking out the new stars?” The Boss asked his music critic furriend.
“Is that you, Tib . . .” Hamish stopped himself before calling my Boss by his name. I realized I didn’t know the Kontinental Kat’s real name. Hmmmm . . .
“It’s me.” The tubby cat, quickly, interrupted. “What are you doing here?” He reiterated.
“Leaving. I have to meet Savoy at my place. She’s coming to read to me. I could use the soft purrs of that lovely BSH.” He murmured and continued on his way without a backward glance.
“Hamish sounds like he’s very fond of your Savoy.” The Kontinental Kat observed. “I wonder how fond?”
“Don’t be silly . . . He’s old enough to be her father!” I dismissed the ridiculous idea.
The bongo beat began to play Blues For Savoy G’, so we raced up the rest of the stairs and entered the studio where Bobbie & the Peelers were rehearsing.
The studio had a busy vibe. P. C. Pumps and his Brofurs, Chief Inspector Magic and Dr. Teddy (the police forensic pathologist) stood amongst a plethora of groupies. These felines were shameless. Two of them clung to Pumps and began straightening his whiskers. Magic did his best to get in on some of the action but the felines ignored him. They even slighted Teddy whose whiskers deffo needed straightening.
We were all shunted into the booth as the singers prepared to record a song. The Kontinental Kat moseyed over to the girls. He thrust me towards them.
“Ladies . . .” I greeted. Then I jumped right in with, “Which one of you is Pumps’ girlfurriend?”
Well that was a bit of a blunder. After two of them claimed to be Pumpkin’s favourite, a savage Catfight ensued. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to break up a scuffle between two hell-cats but I almost wished I was being chased by that gang of D. O. G. S. again. 🙀
Between the Kontinental Kat and the producer, they managed to pull the felines off me and separate them. One was taken into the hallway while the other stayed with us.
“That was quite a display . . .” My Boss observed. “I haven’t seen that much passion since a furriend’s spongy balls went missing. You love P. C. Pumps, don’t you?”
“More than that feline, Savoy G, who he immortalized in song! I intend to marry him. Although, he doesn’t know it yet. We’re going to the cat charity concert tonight. That should put her off his scent!” The groupie looked lovingly at Pumpkin through the window of the booth. “Our engagement should keep them all away.” She added.
The band came into the booth to listen to the song they had been working on and I had to admit, this new one was almost as good as ‘Blues For Savoy G’. The band had a few celebratory shots of Lick-e-lix before Pumpkin was sent back into the studio for more vocals. He took his drink with him for vocal lubrication.
I turned to the Kontinental Kat and asked, “Are they rehearsing for the concert we’re supposed to be . . .”
My Boss slipped out of the booth and into the hallway.
The groupie looked at me and meowed, “ Bobbie and the Peelers are playing at the gig. Yes. All the proceeds go to charities that help cats. I’ve donated a number of spongy balls, just, today. Are you going?”
The Kontinental Kat returned and heard the question. “We’ll definitely see you there.” He grinned.
The producer announced, “ Quiet, please . . . We’re about to record Pumpkin.”
The Kontinental Kat flew out of the booth again and ran into the studio where he found Pumps on the floor. “Quick, Dr. Teddy!”
*********
Savoy and I sat in the audience awaiting the encore of Bobbie & the Peelers to hit the stage and sing the hit song, ‘Blues For Savoy G’.
“He is going to be alright, isn’t he?” Savoy meowed her concern.
“Yes. He’s fine. Dr. Teddy, his own brofur, said he ingested an irritant but after Pumpkin hacked up his stomach contents, he felt much better.” I told my Belovéd as we enjoyed the song until the very end.
The concert had been a fabulous hour of meows, yowls and bows. It was a huge success. The band left the dais to thunderous applause. We stood up, leaving our seats.
Savoy asked, “Have you found the culprit who ransacked Graydon Manor?”
“Not yet . . .” I admitted. I knew this would be on her mind.
“ . . . But soon.” The Kontinental Kat popped up beside us. “Come this way.” He led us out of Massey Hall and over to the Muskoka Spirits Basement Bar for the after party. “Keep your eyes peeled!” He implored.
*********
The band members were surrounded by many well-wishers as the three of us entered the crowded party. The groupies we met earlier were hanging off P. C. Pumps. And there were a number of Toms looking to make business deals, which kept the other boys in the band busy.
“Look at those felines fawning over Pumpkin . . . It’s pathetic. What a desperate display. You’d think they had no sense of decorum.” I uttered and picked up Savoy’s paw. I held on tightly.
“Rich and powerful Toms always attract the sycophants. It’s how they treat them that’s important. Meowing of ‘important’, are the burglars here?” Savoy asked the Kontinental Kat.
“They are indeed.” He looked towards the band and the groupies. Only the felines remained. “Where did Pumpkin go?” The Boss asked.
“Was it him?!! I knew it was P. C. Pumps!” I yowled.
“He went out on the balcony with Hamish.” Savoy meowed.
“Well spotted, Savoy.” The Boss praised the BSH.
We joined them outside. Hamish was accepting a wad of treats from Pumpkin.
“What have we got here?” The chubby, black cat wondered aloud.
P. C. Pumps and Hamish jumped back, their fur and tails puffing up. “I . . . I owed him some treats and I’m paying him back.” P. C. Pumps stammered an, obvious, lie.
“Try again . . .” The Kontinental Kat was not buying it.
“The truth this time.” I added.
“Okay . . . Okay . . .” Pumpkin held up his paws. He was ready to come clean.
“He asked me to pay the Bongo Bengal.” Hamish jumped in.
No one looked more surprised than Pumpkin by the excuse.
“What for?” Savoy asked.
“His contribution to the song ‘Blues For Savoy G’.” Hamish reasoned.
“So, the Bongo Bengal wrote the music and you wrote the lyrics . . .” Savoy deduced. She was very good at this.
“Hamish wrote those fabulous words? I don’t believe it!” I was truly surprised by this turn of events. “I thought Pumpkin wrote that song because he was in love with you?!” I looked the Persian in the eye and asked, “What, exactly, did you do?”
“I sang the song and made it a hit!” P. C. Pumps claimed.
“So, you wrote the lyrics because you’re in love with Savoy . . . ?” The Kontinental Kat meowed to his old pal. “ . . . Is that why you had Pumpkin’s groupie ransack Graydon Manor? For the sake of unrequited love?”
“That’s not love! That’s obsession!” Savoy added looking at me with a clear eye.
*********
I have to admit, it took me a few days to completely wrap my head around what had happened. This dynamic case had nearly baffled me into quitting the detecting game.
Hamish, my Boss’ old furriend, confessed to putting the irritant in Pumpkin’s Lick-e-lix. He even, reluctantly, admitted to bribing the groupie to ransack Graydon Manor.
He was sentenced to life for his crimes but Savoy, being the magnanimous feline she is, continues to visit him in jail to read to him. Especially, after I gifted her with some new spongy balls. She never leaves home without them. I hope she reads this blog to him?
The End.
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