“That’s what you get when you live with a true music fan,” said Cleo with a deferential little smile.
“Laron likes jazz?” I asked.
“Loves jazz. He plays a little jazz himself. So what kind of music are you guys into?”
But unfortunately—or fortunately—our musical preference would remain a secret to Cleo, for the door to the room had suddenly opened and two men walked in. One was big and burly and the other thin and scrawny and as they stood illuminated against the backdrop of the hallway lights, I thought for a moment I’d seen them both before.
“Hey, I think I’ve seen these guys before,” Dooley said, confirming my suspicions.
Then again, in our line of work you meet so many people it’s hard to keep track.
“More intruders,” said Cleo with a sad shake of the head.
“Maybe they’re visitors, like us,” said Dooley as he watched the men close the door and enter the room. They were both carrying big empty gym bags.
“Doubtful,” said Cleo. “They look like a bunch of crooks to me, and trust me, I know the difference. If humans are as rich as mine, a lot of people want to share in that wealth, usually without asking permission first.”
“I’ll look in here,” said the skinny one. “You try the bedroom. And focus on high-value items only, Johnny. I’ll bet these rich bozos got plenty of gold and jewels lying around.”
“Isn’t that rappers, though, Jer?” asked the one named Johnny. “Rappers like gold.”
“Rappers, pop stars, who cares? They all love jewels and so do we.”
“Gotcha, Jer,” said Johnny, and started rifling through one of the cabinets.
“Looks like you’re right, Cleo,” I said. “I think these men are here to steal from your human.”
“Of course I’m right.”
“So what do we do now? We probably shouldn’t let this happen, right?”
“No, we shouldn’t. Lucky for us the hotel has taken precautions for this type of contingency.” And with a deft trot she stalked over to the door, and placed her paw against what looked like a small metal plate. Moments later a deadbolt was shoved home in the door, something clattered down in front of the windows, and the room was suddenly flooded with pulsating red light, accompanied by a loud wailing siren.
The crook named Jerry cursed loudly and started pulling at the door, which wouldn’t budge, then ran over to a connecting door, which offered the same resistance, and finally tried the window, only to discover that a steel shutter had slammed down to seal it off. There was no escape. He then resorted to pulling at his own hair. “Not again!” he cried.
“I think we’re busted, Jer,” said Johnny, stomping in from the bedroom.
“I know we’re busted, you idiot! Someone must have tripped the alarm!”
“You didn’t tell me about no alarm, Jer.”
“That’s because nobody told me about no danged alarm!”
“So what do we do now, Jerry?”
“Now we wait for the cops to show up.”
“But I don’t want to wait for the cops to show up, Jerry! The cops will arrest us, and I don’t want to be arrested.”
“Stay calm, Johnny!” yelled Jerry, not exactly the epitome of tranquility himself. “And when they arrive simply follow my lead. Tell ‘em you thought this was our room.”
“Maybe we should tell ‘em the truth.”
“No, Johnny. Don’t you dare. Repeat after me: I thought this was my room.”
“Do you think they’ll believe us?”
“Of course they’ll believe us! We just have to stick to our story, no matter what.”
Johnny was sweating profusely now. “I’m a lousy liar, Jer. You know I am.”
“Don’t you dare tell them the truth, Johnny. Just do as I say and we’ll be all right.”
“Okay, Jer. We show them the key and tell ‘em we accidentally got the wrong room.”
“Don’t show them the key!”
“Why not?”
“Because then they’ll know we got an accomplice!”
“You mean the same accomplice who forgot to mention the alarm?”
“Just stick to the story and we’ll be okay.”
“I don’t know, Jer.”
“Stick to the story!”
“They don’t appear to be the smartest crooks in the business,” said Cleo.
“Max! I think I know these guys,” suddenly said Dooley. “Aren’t they the same ones who tried to rob Odelia? And then you and me told Chase and Chase arrested them?”
“Hey, I think you’re right, Dooley.”
Moments later, the alarm stopped whining, and the door opened. The first one to burst through was Chase, quickly followed by Uncle Alec. Chase was holding up a gun. “Hands behind your heads! On your knees!” he yelled, and Johnny and Jerry promptly did as they were told.
“I thought this was my room!” Johnny cried, eyes wide as he took in that big gun and the even bigger cop handling it.
“We must have gotten the floors mixed,” Jerry said, producing a strained smile.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t Johnny Carew and Jerry Vale. So we meet again.”
“Hi, Detective Kingsley,” said Johnny sheepishly. “You’re not going to arrest us, are you? I really thought this was our room,” he added like a well-trained parrot.
“So where’s your key?” asked Uncle Alec.
Johnny produced his key card, drawing a low hissing sound from his partner in crime. Uncle Alec took the card and studied it. “So who’s your accomplice?”
Jerry and Johnny shared a look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chief,” said Jerry. “We’re guests at this hotel and we thought this was our room. Can we help it if all these rooms look the same?” He laughed, but it sounded more like a horse neighing.
“Yeah, can we help it if all the rooms in this hotel look the same?” asked Johnny, actually perking up now that he figured their ruse was working.
“This is a very special key card,” said Uncle Alec, waving the card. “It’s called a master key. It allows access to all the rooms in the building. Only hotel personnel carry these. So how did you get hold of it?”
“Receptionist must have made a mistake,” said Jerry with a shrug.
“Yeah, the receptionist gave us this key,” said Johnny, lifting his massive shoulders.
“Why are you both dressed in black, with rubber-soled shoes and rubber gloves?” asked Chase.
“We like to dress in black,” said Jerry. “And we’re both germophobic.”
“Yeah, we don’t like Germans,” said Johnny with a quick glance at Jerry.
Uncle Alec had crouched down next to the gym bags and was rummaging through them. He brought out a flashlight, a drill, a hammer, a chisel, a Swiss knife, and a box full of weird-looking metal instruments. “And I’ll bet this is your luggage,” he said grimly.
“We’re like the Boy Scouts of America,” Jerry declared solemnly. “Always prepared.”
“Yeah, we take that stuff everywhere we go,” said Johnny. “You never know when you might need a hammer, or a pair of pliers.”
“Look, I’ll make you a deal,” said Uncle Alec, getting up. “If you give us the name of your accomplice I’ll talk to the judge. Tell him you cooperated like two nice crooks. If not, I’ll throw the book at you, and you’re looking at extended jail time. So what do you say?”
Jerry was already shaking his head, but Johnny’s eyebrows had shot up and he had a mournful expression on his face. It was the expression of a man about to spill his guts.
“No, Johnny,” said Jerry, who’d noticed the same thing. “Don’t you do it.”
“But, Jerry. I don’t want to go back to prison.”
“No. Don’t you do it, Johnny. Don’t you dare.”
“His name is Camillo Equius,” Johnny suddenly blurted out. “He told us Laron Weskit and his wife were staying here tonight, and that Dieber kid, and he gave us the key.”
“Thanks, Johnny. You know the drill,” Uncle Alec said as he unclipped a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “You’re both under arrest. Anything you say—”