The cat awoke, stretched, stuck out its tongue, hopped off the couch, then turned the corner, and entered the bedroom.
“And we never saw the cat again,” the man told the detective.
“Why did you murder him?” the detective asked.
“I didn’t.”
“You most certainly did.”
The man knew he needed to confess. But instead he flashed a smile and offered the detective a cigarette.
“I don’t smoke.”
“Not even just a little?”
“Mr…”
“Please. Call me Ed.”
“Alright, Ed. You’re under the arrest for the murder of your cat.”
“Then you won’t mind if I have a cigarette?”
“Get your hat.”
“Alright.” The man did not light the cigarette. He reached for his hat and then his coat.
They took him downtown and booked him.