Sly the Sleuth and the Pet Mysteries by Donna Jo Napoli Read Free Book Online

Case # 1:
    Sly and the Fat Cat

My Name
    I was born Sylvia. My parents called me Sylvia. My friends called me Sylvia.
    A couple of years ago a new family moved in next door. They had a son, Brian. Brian was two then. (He’s four now.)
    Brian couldn’t say “Sylvia.”
    He called me Thi. Then Si. Then Sly.
    I liked that. And the name stuck. Now everyone calls me Sly.
    What’s in a name?
    Who knows.
    But my friend Melody plays the piano. And my friend Jack is always jumping out of places.
    And I am a sleuth.
    A sleuth must sneak around. And gather clues. And be smart enough to figure out what the clues mean.
    A sleuth must be sly.
    I am Sly the Sleuth.
    So maybe there’s a lot in a name.

My Agency
    I run an agency called Sleuth for Hire. I solve problems. But I am picky. I take only cases that are fun. And only cases a cat would care about.
    Why?
    I like cats. Cats sneak around, like sleuths.
    And I have a cat. Her name is Taxi. She’s my buddy. Every sleuth needs someone to talk to.Taxi is a good listener. She purrs when I tell her how I solved a case.
    When I want her, I go outside and call, “Taxi, Taxi.” Strangers passing on the sidewalk think I am crazy. But that’s okay. It’s good for business. My father says there’s no such thing as bad advertising. The important thing is that people remember you.

Taking My First Case
    My first case was about a fat cat. It happened just a week after I had announced the opening of my agency.
    Kate stopped me on my way to the playground with Melody. “My cat is fat and getting fatter.”
    â€œSo what?” I said.
    â€œI don’t want her to be fat,” said Kate. “It’s not good for her.”
    â€œFeed her less.”
    â€œI do,” said Kate.
    Melody pointed her toe. “Bring her to my house and I’ll play the piano and she can dance off her fat.”
    â€œMy cat’s too fat to dance,” said Kate. “She can hardly move.”
    This seemed like a pretty dumb case. I didn’t want to take it.
    But then Kate said, “I’m worried.” She looked like she might cry. She added, “I love Clarissa.”
    I believed her. No one would name their cat Clarissa unless they loved her. And I understood, because I love Taxi.
    â€œLet me think about this,” I said.
    Melody and Kate went on to the playground.
    I went home. I stood on the front step and called, “Taxi!”

    A man on the sidewalk looked at me, then looked away fast.
    Taxi came running.
    I rubbed her behind the ears and on her back right above her tail, which is her favorite spot.
    Brian came over from next door.“Play with me.”
    â€œNot now,” I said. “I’m thinking.”
    Brian screamed, “Think stink.” He pulled Taxi’s tail and ran away.
    This case was about a cat. And it was about food. Taxi was a cat and Taxi loved food. So I knew Taxi would like listening to me talk about this case. Probably any cat would.
    I went to the playground and found Kate.
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Take me to see Clarissa’s food dish.”

Clarissa
    Clarissa’s food dish had her name on it, drawn in big letters with a blue marker. It also had pictures of fish drawn in green marker. It was pretty. And it was empty. And clean.
    â€œDid you wash this dish?” I asked.
    â€œNo. Clarissa always licks it clean.”
    Wow. Clarissa was quite a cat.The dish was perfectly clean.
    â€œIt’s time for Clarissa’s breakfast,” said Kate. She put one-third of a can of cat food in Clarissa’s dish. Then she added a small handful of crunchy, dry cat food.
    â€œThat’s all?” I asked.
    â€œYup.”
    â€œHow many times a day does she get a meal like that?”
    â€œBreakfast and supper,” said Kate.
    â€œThat’s all?” I asked.
    â€œYup.”
    That was less than Taxi ate, and Taxi wasn’t fat. “Clarissa should be a thin