This is Noob.
Noob is the newest kitty. She is also the smallest. She is, naturally, the youngest. And she is also... a cat criminal.
I did not know Noob was a criminal until Becca pointed it out. It makes sense. It involved dust, and Becca invariably notices dust, dirt, grime, and so forth several days before I do.
It was in the kitchen. Becca pointed out the dusty spot under the cupboard, next to the cold water crock. "That rotten cat has been jumping up onto the pantry shelf," said Becca.
"What?" I said.
"Yes," I said, once she had pointed them out. "Noob," she said. "Noob is jumping up onto the counter, and then from there onto the top of the pantry. She tracks around up there in all the drywall dust and spackle, and then leaves dusty little kitty prints when she jumps back down."
I glanced up at the top of the pantry. I glanced at the floor. Certainly a cat could jump onto the counter -- we'd had to keep sharp eyes to break Speedbump of that habit -- but onto the top of the pantry? "And it couldn't have been Speedbump?"
My dear one looked at me like I was an idiot. "Dear, Speedbump must weigh fifty pounds, and while he has been known to bring down white-tailed deer on occasion, I really don't think he could make it up there. And Bunny's much too old. She's getting to the point where we have to put a footstool down so she can get up on the couch."
"But that high?"
"Maybe she's jumping up onto the cupboard, and from there to the pantry. But look at those footprints!"
I looked at the footprints. Sure enough, they were facing away from the wall -- a sign that the jumper was leaping DOWN, not up. And the powdery dust sure'nuff looked like gypsum... I've hung enough drywall to know.
Who'd have thought I was married to a detective? You'd think all those Agatha Christies would have tipped me off...