by Jack Lugar
Miss Kitty released me from her embrace. “Oh my, I guess I should get to the stage,” Kitty said as she checked the clock on the wall. “I was a bit distracted apparently. Cali darling, this is Mr. Pajamas. He’s a private detective I’ve hired to look into why so many of my personal belongings are missing.”
“Hello, Mr. Pajamas. I’m Calico Cornish.” She extended a tiny paw to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Calico.”
“Cali is the stage manager here at the Fat Cat,” Kitty said as she checked her make-up in the mirror one last time. “Cali, dear, can you escort Mr. Pajamas to his seat for the show?
“I’d be glad to.”
“I’ll see you after the show, Katz.” Miss Kitty gently touched my paw and winked at me before disappearing into the hallway.
“She does that to all the toms,” I distantly heard Calico say. “Mr. Pajamas… Mr. Pajamas…”
I wasn’t really listening at that point, caught in the spell of Miss Kitty Cat. Calico tried to give me a jostle to bring me out of my peach scented daze, but it wasn’t until I heard the growl of Bogey telling me to get out that I snapped to.
“Mr. Pajamas, the show’s about to start, so we need to get going.”
I peered over my shoulder as we exited Miss Kitty’s dressing room and caught a glimpse of Bogey’s beady little eyes watching me from the shadows of his dog house. “Yes, lead the way,” I replied.
As Cali walked me to my seat, I took the opportunity to find out how she fit into this puzzle. Was she just an innocent calico cat or deceiving dame? She certainly had access to Miss Kitty’s belongings and wasn’t afraid of Bogey. In fact, a nice pair of Victoria Felino kitten heel pumps would fit her fine.
“Do you mind if I ask what you were planning to do in Miss Kitty’s dressing room?” I asked.
“What do you mean.”
“When you entered, you said you thought she’d be backstage already. So why would you come to her dressing room?”
“I always check on Bogey and then help straighten things up and make sure her costumes are organized and ready.”
“So, Miss Kitty is aware that you go into her dressing room while she’s not around?”
“Of course, it part of my job. You don’t think that room stays spotless because she cleans it?”
“I, uh…” She had a point, the room was spotless, but what star of the likes of Kitty Cat would clean it themselves? “I get your point. And has Miss Kitty enquired with you about her missing items?”
“You don’t think that I would have taken them?”
“It’s just part of my job. Everyone’s a suspect until I can rule them out.”
“Even you?” she said with a witty smile.
We entered the showroom and Cali led me to a table on the front row. At the table was a portly gentleman with bushy, long whiskers. The Fat Cat himself, Mr. Ty Bigly. A real rags-to-riches story, from alley cat to fat cat so I’d heard.
“Mr. Bigly, this is Mr. Pajamas,” Cali said, introducing me as he rose from his seat.
I extended a paw. “Katz Pajamas, private eye.”
“Yes, Kitty has told me about you,” he said with a friendly smile. He shook my paw with what felt like the strength of ten lions. That was going to leave a mark. “She’s very confident you’ll make quick work of this case.”
“I certainly hope to,” I replied.
“If you won’t be needing me anymore, sir, I’ll head backstage and get the show started,” Cali interrupted.
“That will be fine, and no need coming back after the show. I’ll be giving Mr. Pajamas a tour of the theater.”
I expressed my appreciation to Cali as she left, and I took my seat. Looking across the table, I sized up Mr. Bigly, and he was just that. Bigly. Everything about him was big. His ears. His eyes. His whiskers and mouth. His paws were particularly enormous. And his body dwarfed the table we sat at. There was rarely a cat that I found to be intimidating, but Mr. Bigly moved right to the top of that short list. His mere presence was overwhelming.
“What can I get you to drink?” he asked as he waived to a waiter a few tables away. Without hesitation, the waiter was at our table ready to assist us. “Please get our guest a…” Mr. Bigly paused, looking to me to finish his sentence.
“Milk... Actually, make it a chocolate.” I figured during the show I could indulge myself a little.
The waiter nodded saying a simple, “yes, sir,” and scurried away.
There was an awkward pause, which reminded me I was there to do a job and since the show had yet to start, I might as well stay on task. And even though Mr. Bigly was an intimidating figure, I couldn’t let that prevent me from helping Miss Kitty. “So, are the stories true?” I asked with the appearance of confidence.
He started to grin which quickly turned to a smile and booming laugh. Then he stopped and looked at me seriously. “Yes.”
My eyes widened like saucers full of overflowing milk and I GULPED.
Mr. Bigly started laughing again, and gradually, I joined in. “I’m sure you’re familiar with how a story develops a life of its own. Some parts are true and some aren’t. Ultimately, it’s true only to the extent that others believe it.” Mr. Bigly paused and leaned in closer to me. I reciprocated by leaning his direction. He whispered, “And pretty much everyone chooses to believe it.” His smile returned but his eyes seemed to say that I too would benefit from believing the stories that I’d heard about Mr. Bigly. That seemed to be the best… no, the safest approach for the moment.
I returned his smile with an uneasy nod as the lights dimmed, and the red velvet curtain opened. As the orchestra began to play the audience erupted in applause. I joined in.
A single spot light popped on and lit a solitary spot on the stage. There she was. Her presence bigger than life as her dress sparkled like a sky full of stars. But the real treat was when she opened her mouth and out came an amazing version of “What’s New Pussycat?” She followed that with a rendition of “When He Calls Me Kitten” that would melt your socks.
The show was a spectacle of mesmerizing songs and dances. With the splashes of color from the costumes, lights, and sets, it was like watching a painting come to life, and the music made my ears tingle like they were being gently scratched. But before I knew it, the curtain closed, the house lights came up, and I had experienced the fastest hour of my life.
Even though Mr. Bigley had probably seen Miss Kitty’s show hundreds of time, he applauded with the enthusiasm of a first-timer and smiled from ear-to-ear. “That’s the best show in town. The little Kitty’s worth every penny I pay her,” he beamed.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I replied.
My enthusiastic approval of the performance was pleasing to Mr. Bigly. Not that his smile could get any wider than the width of his face, but if it could, that was the level of his pleasure. “Well, let me show you around,” Mr. Bigly said as he rose from the table.
He first took me backstage where he showed me all the ropes and pulleys to raise and lower the scrims and curtains. It was such an industrial place compared to the opulent stage. The contrast was night and day much like the difference between the glamorous life detectives lead on mystery TV shows and the reality I live.
Next he took me onstage where I was able to get a feel for what it would be like to look out on an audience. I was most fascinated by the trapdoor in the floor. It was so simple because it was literally a door in the floor, yet it conjured images of secret escapes and new mysteries to solve.
After showing me the stage area, Mr. Bigly took me to Miss Kitty’s dressing room. We worked our way through the backstage area and a maze of hallways connected to dressing rooms. Finally, we arrived at Miss Kitty’s room when she burst through the doorway. A look of horror was on her face as she screamed, “He’s gone!”
Bogey was gone? My first thought was who on earth would want to take a dog? Especially that one, with Bogey’s beady eyes and wiry hair, but someone had. He was gone. No ma
tter how many doggy treats we offered, Bogey never appeared. This perpetrator was more than just a cat burglar. He was a dognapper.
I had Miss Kitty lay down on her love seat, and Cali brought her a glass of water. Mr. Bigly was advising Rufus to talk to the other cast members to find out if they’d seen anything. Again, I scoured the room for clues, looking particularly close to the surroundings of Bogey’s dog house.
I looked for signs of a struggle, but nothing seemed out of place. Miss Kitty’s room was as tidy as ever. Knowing how unfriendly the little beast was, surely it was not an easy task absconding with the pooch. Surely the furry monster had nipped the napper.
I had searched every inch of Miss Kitty’s dressing room. Every inch except… Bogey’s dog house. There it sat like a beacon of torture. A den of doom. How could I, a cat of distinction, enter into that mongrel’s lair. As I contemplated the idea of ignoring the little home, I glanced over at Miss Kitty helplessly agonizing over her misplaced pooch. Even though I wanted to leave, I knew I had to enter the doghouse of horrors.
Getting down on all fours, I gradually poked my head inside Bogey’s home. I should have expected it, but I didn’t. It smelled of red roses and was ornately decorated to match Miss Kitty’s dressing room. There was even a star on the back door. The back door?
Bogey’s dog house had a back door. But where did it lead? The house was pushed right up to the wall, so I’d assumed that was where it ended. I wriggled the upper half of my body back out of Bogey’s abode. “Miss Kitty, Bogey’s home has another door.”
She sat herself up on the couch and looked my way. “Of course it does, Katz. That’s how he lets himself out.”
“Out? But why?”
She cocked her head and look at me as if to say, “What a silly question.” And she was right. Why else would a dog need to go outside? “I meant, out where?” I said trying to cover my initial ridiculous question.
“Well, the door leads to a little passageway that goes under the stage and then out back to a grassy little patch,” Miss Kitty replied matter-of-factly.
I looked from Miss Kitty to Cali who looked to Mr. Bigly who looked to Rufus who looked back at me. After a moment of realization, we all scrambled out the door and through the hallways. I would have lead the way, but I had no clue where I was going. Exiting the hallway, we found ourselves under the stage before running up a flight of stairs to a steel backdoor highlighted by an EXIT sign.
Cali was the first out the door where she immediately came to a stop causing a bit of a cat-lision as we all crashed into each other. After regaining our composure, we all looked up and there he was finishing his business. We all tried to divert our look in an attempt to give Bogey some semblance of privacy.
Once he was done, Miss Kitty ran to Bogey and scooped him up. I tried to ignore what she was saying to him because it was once again in baby talk, which you’ll remember I despise as much as I despise dogs, so baby talk to dogs is only worse.
As she brought Bogey back to the stage door, Miss Kitty planted a big old smooch right on my cheek. “Once again, Katz, you’ve solved another mystery,” she gushed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I was blushing so much I was unable to form the words necessary to point out that I hadn’t done anything. I’d only noticed that he’d gone to the bathroom. And while my gift of gab had left me, I could still see Cali roll her eyes and cast a glance at Rufus.
As Miss Kitty passed everyone as she entered the building, Bogey was back to being his normal self, letting out a yelp at Rufus and growling in his direction. Rufus glared at the dog with disgust. A feeling with which I could sympathize.
Mr. Bigly gave me a big ‘atta boy slap on the back that almost knocked me over as we reentered the backstage area.
“I really didn’t do anything,” I said to him.
“I know,” he said assuring me. “But that’s not what matters. What matters is keeping Miss Kitty happy. And you’ve done it again,” he praised me with another slap to my back, which hurt a little more than the first.
I was definitely partial to Miss Kitty’s admiration over Mr. Bigly’s.
After everything had calmed down, and Miss Kitty was settled in her dressing room with Bogey; I decided to do some further exploring of the backstage area of the Fat Cat Café on my own. There were only a few of the cast members still lingering around, which freed me up to snoop.
I had no specific destination. No plan. Sometimes the best clues appear when I just start wandering. It’s sort of like I let the clues find me. This time wasn’t any different. As I wandered, I found myself in the area under the stage, following the tunnel that had been created for Bogey to go outside. I walked as I looked up at the pathway not aware of my surroundings such that I ran smack into a burly tom named Thom. His demeanor was nothing like the highfaluting spelling of his name, however.
Since Thom didn’t see me coming, I knocked him to the ground with a thud and a cloud of dust from the pile he’d been sweeping. You see, Thom was the stagehand. “I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” I asked as I reached to help him up.
He took my paw replying, “No problemo, dude. That was nothin’ compared getting caught in a cast member stampede when they’re tryin’ to get off stage opening night and be first to the cast party. That’s when you really see the fur fly.”
I nodded, not really able to relate but imagining being on the wrong side of a herd of cats. “I really do apologize for knocking you down. I was following the tunnel created for Bogey to go outside, so I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Oh yeah, that thing. Used to also use it for the stage’s trapdoor when he was in the show.” Thom pointed out the trapdoor which I had seen from the other side earlier that evening.
I walked over to it and noticed how there was a seam in the tunnel’s casing right where the trapdoor would open. “So Bogey, used to be in the show?”
“Sure did. But the audience didn’t really respond positively to a dog on stage.”
“No?” Of course, I knew all too well. Miss Kitty was one of the few cats I knew that adored dogs.
“You know how cats are with dogs and all.”
“And does it ever get used for Bogey to go to the stage anymore?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
Again, I nodded, but this time with curiosity (which can be deadly for most cats, but that’s the risk I have to take because that’s my job). My curiosity was piqued because I noticed remnants of fur caught between the seams of the trapdoor and Bogey’s tunnel.
The pieces of this mystery were beginning to come together in my mind. I pulled out my smartphone and did a little web surfing. If my hunch were correct, I’d find the answers on Catbook, which was a social networking site exclusively for cats. With only a few clicks, taps, and swipes, I found what I was looking for in Catbook’s Marketplace.
Looking over to Thom, I asked him if I could borrow a ladder.
“Sure thing,” he answered. “We have quite a few of those.”
I set up the ladder under the trapdoor to the stage to get a closer look. I examined the exterior of the door and tunnel using my magnifying glass to check for prints. But what I really wanted to see was inside the tunnel. “How do I get the door to drop down?” I asked Thom.
“It’s on a pulley right here.” He showed me a chain and wheel set up used to raise and lower the door. “All ya’ do is unlock this lever and pull.”
Thom tugged gently on the chain and the trapdoor began to lower. In only a second, I could see inside the section of the tunnel under the trapdoor, and it was just as I expected. I had found another stolen item.
I went back to Miss Kitty’s dressing room to see how she was doing and fill her in on all my findings. When I got there, she was frantically scouring her room with the help of Cali.
“Oh, Katz, it’s gone,” she cried. “In all the chaos in trying to find Bogey, I didn’t realize something else had been taken.”
She helplessly
fell into my arms, which I have to admit was one of the perks of my job. “Don’t worry, Miss Kitty,” I assured her. “Cali, could you go get Mr. Bigly and Rufus. I have solved the mystery.”
Cali looked at me wide-eyed and hesitantly responded, “S-s-sure,” before leaving.
“Katz,” Miss Kitty said hopefully, “have you really solved the mystery?
“I have.”
“But who? Why?” she pried. “How…”
“Miss Kitty, you are a performer of exquisite talent,” I explained. “You capture the audience’s imagination with your skill and beauty. But I too have a talent. I too know how to perform. This is my stage. And when everyone is here, that is when I’ll let the cat out of the bag… so to speak.”
I smiled at my cleverness as Cali returned with Mr. Bigly and Rufus.
“You’ve solved the mystery, detective?” Mr. Bigly asked with enthusiasm.
“I have,” I proudly exclaimed.
“Has he told you, Kitty?”
“Darling, Mr. Bigly, be patient. Katz too is a performer,” Miss Kitty said as she picked up Bogey and sat on her love seat.
“Well, let’s get with it. I’d like to get home sometime tonight,” Rufus huffed impatiently.
