Knock knock!

That was the sound of Len knocking on the door of room 517, the penthouse suite.

“Entree!” Came the high-pitched voice of, who Len could only presume, was Madame Rosalita the cow. The richest cow in all of East Finchley. She was so famous she even came up in Google searches.

They used the keycard the receptionist had given them and entered the room. Madame Rosalita was spread out in the chaize lounge, fanning herself with one of those hand held fans.

“About time, my dears, about time? I’ve been waiting all afternoon… I take it your here about my rather large box.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My travel box.. with all my delicates inside. it is just too heavy for me to lift, and I would like to take advantage of your muscle.”

“You want to take advantage of my muscle?” Bert said, transfixed with the beauty of the plumb, vovacious, exotic Madame Rosalita.

“Yes please. I want it in the bedroom as soon as possible.”

“You can have it wherever you want it, Madame Rosalita the cow!”

“Good Boy, good boy! Do this small thing for me and I’ll give you a nice big pat on the head.”

Len nudged Bert “don’t forget why we’re here, Bert. Keep an eye out for the necklace!”

But Bert wasn’t listening… He was entranced by Rosalita… He sat by her side on the chaize lounge and took her hoof in his paw.

“Madame Rosalita… I’m afraid I have a confession to make…” He began.

Len froze.