Quite An Ingenious Scheme

Shortly after my fifth confrontation with Detective Basil, I found a stray kitten. I detest cats, and this one was even uglier than most. I was just trying to think of a way to kill it when I had the best idea of my life. If I could train this miscreant into something useful, I would have a way of disposing of the bodies of all my murder victims.

Felicia must have stayed up late every night to think of new ways to frustrate me. The first night I had her, she tried to put her paw around me. I bit down as hard as I could, and the paw moved. I thought that settled matters, but she limped for the next two days.

"What is wrong with that pathetic wretch?" I demanded.

"She managed to hurt herself somehow, and the wound has become infected," Bartholomew explained.

"That moron! Doesn't she know I don't have time for this?" I lit a cigarette. "Ungrateful creature!"

Bartholomew foolishly spent his wages on a doctor, who was not at all happy to have to treat a cat.

"It's alright, Felicia," Bartholomew soothed, stroking her other paw as the doctor worked. "You're going to be fine. Just be a good girl, and you'll heal nicely."

"Treating a cat!" the doctor muttered. "David is never going to let me live this one down!"

"Who is David?" Bartholomew asked.

"David Q. Dawson, my best friend from medical school. I haven't heard from him in a while, but he tries to keep in touch whenever he can."

"Friendship is futile!" I scoffed.

The doctor changed the subject. "How did your cat get wounded?"

"I bit her!" I answered. "She deserved it for reaching her paw across me!"

"Of course I will not tell you how to raise your own…pet, but you do know that was a sign of her affection for you, don't you?"

I hadn't known, but I wasn't about to admit my ignorance.

Raising Felicia proved to be one trial after another. I knew I had to make her fear me. If I didn't, she would rebel against my authority as soon as she was large enough to swallow me. I also knew I had to create in her a feeling of dependence on me and fool her into believing I loved her and had her best interests at heart. I used teeth, claws, and any weapon I could get my hands on whenever she acted like she might be demonstrating so much as a hint of independence. I fed her well when she obeyed me perfectly, but I refused to feed her for several days when she made even one minor error. To remind her that I was superior, I constantly insulted her and informed her how worthless she was, but I had to be careful enough to throw in a few meaningless terms of endearment so she'd be stupid enough to think I actually cared about her.

After doing all that every day, I was sure Felicia would be willing to do whatever I said, but she always regarded me with mistrust. Every time I tried to stroke her ears in the way that kittens like, she would cower. She trembled every time I spoke, even if I just wished her a good morning, and she always hesitated before accepting food. I never could figure out what her problem was. Here I was being the perfect cat owner and ideal companion, and she was acting like she was afraid of me! To this day, I still can't understand why.

There was one time in her life when she seemed determined to do nothing but irritate me. It all started when she began to ignore food. After three days, she still hadn't eaten, even though I offered her the most delicate morsels.

I thought she must be bored, so I walked with her by the Thames. That moron! She fell into the river and would have drowned if a human hadn't seen her in time and pulled her out!

That night Felicia decided to sleep in the middle of the busiest street in London. I told her to move before she got killed, but she wouldn't listen.

"What's wrong with that imbecile?" I fumed.

"Will you allow me to try to reason with her, sir?" Bartholomew asked.

"Do whatever you wish!"

He approached the listless kitten. "Felicia, sweetheart, I know that this isn't an ideal situation, but taking your own life is not the answer. I know you're trying to starve yourself, and you didn't fall into the Thames this afternoon. You jumped, didn't you?"

She mewed.

"Everyone has times when they think life is hopeless, but this won't solve anything. Besides, if you let yourself die as a victim, it will be like Ratigan killed you. You don't want that on your tombstone, do you?"

Felicia hissed, but she got out of the street and ate her supper.

I stood akimbo. "Care to answer for that little speech, Bartholomew? I know you weren't implying that my pet would rather die than live with me!"

"I was taunting her by using sarcasm, sir," he explained.

"Did she hiss at me, or was it my imagination?"

"She hissed at me, boss, not you. Felicia was showing her disapproval for my cruel use of sarcasm against her."

"That's what I hoped she was doing. It would have gone quite badly for her otherwise."

He was always one of my favorites. In fact, he was my best henchman, but I began to hate Bartholomew. When Felicia saw me, she would flinch every time I lightly stroked her fur, and she would never approach me; I always had to go to her. However, when she saw Bartholomew, she would come running, purring and trying to rub against him like cats do to their human friends. I never understood what sort of power he had over her, but I knew as long as he was her friend, I would be her enemy. I had to think of a good excuse to get rid of Bartholomew.

This proved to be harder than I thought. He was highly intelligent, far too clever to say or do anything to upset me. He never argued or made mistakes.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked myself. "He's not like the other idiots who ramble on continuously in a drunken stupor!" I gasped. "Of course he's not! He doesn't drink! That's how he manages to keep his wits about him! If I could just teach him to enjoy the taste of alcohol, he would become as mindless as the other morons! Then his life would be in my hands!"

Hearing Felicia purr as Bartholomew put a bow in her hair, an even grimmer plot began simmering in my great criminal brain.

"No! Bartholomew will not leave the world by my actions! He shall die at the hands of his beloved Felicia!"

It took a while, but I eventually managed to turn Bartholomew into an alcoholic and Felicia into a true villainess. They had been like brother and sister to each other, but when Bartholomew upset me yesterday, Felicia didn't hesitate for even a moment. For once, I was actually proud of her.