"Say it isn't so, Quigs. My vacation is over? Confound it. I just got comfortable, my overworked brain finally found some peace. And I've just purchased some new bromeliads for my terrarium. How will I ever find the time to give them the nourishment and care they need in which to thrive? Now you've brought a new case before me knowing that I simply won't refuse. Well, fine then, let's get on with it."
"I am sorry to trouble you Mr Mews, but I'm afraid an excellent cat detective's work such as yours is never done..."
"Yes, yes, just tell me who has the problem and what it is," Mews said with an agitated paw shake.
"Well," said Quigley looking excited despite Mews's peevish mood, "we're dealing with a semi-famous local celebrity. Have you ever heard of one Regis McBain?" Mews gave a face and then rolled his eyes.
"That blow hard talk radio host? Indeed, who has not heard that pompous windbag?"
"Yes, well apparently he's being blackmailed. And that's all he'll tell me. He wants to talk to you asap. He's says that you're the only one he can trust. The only one who will give him-how did he say it, "a fair crack at it." Mews yawned, nodded and stretched his legs.
"Very well, Quigs. Set up a pot of tea for me won't you? Oh, and heat up yesterday's bacon scones-I'll need a little something to sink my fangs into before I give this McBain a call."