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The calico cat had big eyes and a big problem. “I’ve lost my human,” she said, nervously lapping at the bowl of lactose-free milk I’d set out for her. Nervously looking at me, trying, like everyone does, not to stare at the notch in my ear and the scar above my eye. I looked at her. One of her eyes was green, the other yellow. “That’s usually not my bailiwick,” I said. “Bailiwick?” she echoed. She had clean gums and all her teeth. “I thought you were Marius the Private I. The Cat Who Finds Cats.” “At your service,” I