Atticus Claw Lends a Paw (5 page)

Lord Toffly embraced his wife. ‘We’re going to knit the town red!’

5

Inspector Cheddar was baffled. Littleton-on-Sea was under siege. Four graffiti knitting crimes in as many days! It was the worst crime spree the town had known since Atticus had stopped being a cat burglar and got rid of the magpies.

The first day Inspector Cheddar woke up to find his panda car wearing a knitted cover that said ‘
GET LOST, LOSER
’. The next day he was called to a park where the roundabout had been stitched up. On the third day, startled shopkeepers in Littleton-on-Sea on their way to work reported that the
town-hall
clock sported a woolly hat. On the fourth day the pier had disappeared beneath a very large pair of red knitted underpants.

‘What’s going on, Cheddar?’

Inspector Cheddar was in the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth’s office. The Chief Inspector was purple in the face from shouting at him.

‘I don’t know, sir,’ Inspector Cheddar admitted.

‘You don’t know?’ the Chief Inspector roared. ‘What good’s that?’

‘None, sir,’ Inspector Cheddar said.

‘We need to find out who’s behind this evil crime,’ the Chief Inspector yelled.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘They’re making the police look ridiculous!’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘We can’t have police officers driving round in woolly panda cars saying ‘
GET LOST, LOSER
’. What if the papers got hold of it?’

Inspector Cheddar agreed that would be a disaster.

‘Think, Cheddar! Who do you know in Littleton-on-Sea who knits?’

Inspector Cheddar thought for a moment. ‘Nellie Smellie, the old lady who runs the cats’ home does,’ he said doubtfully. ‘She organises an abandoned lady cats’ knitting circle. But I don’t think that she—’

‘Shut up!’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I don’t care what you think!’

‘But you just said …’

The Chief Inspector silenced him with a look.

‘This Smellie Nellie woman: is she a known criminal?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Hmmm. Just as I suspected: that makes it easier for her to slip under our radar.’

‘That’s true, sir,’ Inspector Cheddar agreed. ‘But she must be about a hundred and seven. I don’t think she could climb the town-hall clock to put a hat on it.’

‘She must have an accomplice then. Maybe more than one. What about those kittens? Didn’t you say you’d had some trouble with them?’

Inspector Cheddar stared at the Chief Inspector. What he was saying was beginning to make sense. ‘You’re right, sir, I did! In fact now you come to mention it, they can climb! I had to get the fire brigade out last week to help me get them down from a tree.’

‘Go on!’ the Chief Inspector was listening intently.

‘After that I found the other kittens in the panda car ripping the seats,’ Inspector Cheddar told him. ‘And THEN they stuffed a ball of wool up the
exhaust
pipe! It was Atticus’s idea.’

‘What? You’re saying Police Cat Sergeant Claw’s behind it?’ the Chief Inspector thundered. ‘He should be thrown out of the force.’

‘No, I didn’t mean that!’ Inspector Cheddar said hastily. He trusted Atticus enough to know that he wouldn’t go back to a life of cat crime. ‘I think he might have given the kittens the idea by mistake.’

‘That’s the sort of mistake that gets you fired!’ The Chief Inspector banged his fist on the desk. ‘My gut feeling is Smellie’s the one to watch.’ He frowned. ‘How did she get her hands on so much wool though?’

‘The fundraiser!’ Inspector Cheddar cried. ‘My wife organised a lecture at Toffly Hall to raise money so that Smellie could buy things for the kittens to play with. She raised over two hundred pounds.’

‘You mean your wife’s in on it?’ the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth wriggled his eyebrows. ‘That’s not good.’

‘No, of course she’s not!’ Inspector Cheddar said impatiently. ‘Smellie must have used her in her evil knitting plan. Good heavens,’ he cried. ‘Is there nothing that woman wouldn’t do?’

The Chief Inspector of Bigsworth shook his head sorrowfully. ‘I’m afraid some criminals are like that, Cheddar!’ he said. ‘Lowlife scum.’

‘But how do we prove it, sir?’ Inspector Cheddar asked. ‘We haven’t found so much as a dropped stitch at the scene, let alone anything incriminating like a knitting needle we can trace back to the cats’ home.’

‘We need to catch those kittens red-pawed,’ the Chief Inspector said. He narrowed his eyes. ‘My guess is they’ll strike again, and soon.’

Inspector Cheddar stood up. ‘Don’t worry, sir. I’ll put my best officers on it straight away. We’ll keep Smellie and her gang under twenty-four-hour police surveillance. Then, when they strike, we’ll pounce.’

‘Make sure you do,’ the Chief Inspector said darkly. ‘Or I’ll put you back on traffic cones.’

Atticus was put on night watch.

‘I can’t believe the kittens would do such a thing,’ Mimi said to him before he left.

‘Neither can I,’ Atticus agreed. ‘They’re not that bad.’

‘And Nellie Smellie seems so kind!’ Mimi said. ‘Do you really think she and her lady cats are master knitting criminals?’

‘Not really,’ Atticus said.

Mrs Cheddar and Mrs Tucker, who had come round to number 2 Blossom Crescent to say hello, thought the same thing.

‘You’re being an idiot, darling!’ Mrs Cheddar said cheerfully to her husband as she handed Inspector Cheddar his police cap.

‘As usual!’ Mrs Tucker muttered.

‘It’s not the kittens, Dad,’ Callie and Michael agreed. ‘Nellie Smellie’s been framed.’

‘The question you should be asking yourself is why,’ Mrs Cheddar said.

‘And by whom,’ Mrs Tucker scratched her head.

‘Thanks for the advice but
I’ll
do the detective work around here,’ Inspector Cheddar snapped. He went out of the door.

‘Meow!’ Atticus winked at Mimi. He had plans to do a bit of detective work of his own.

Atticus and Inspector Cheddar drove to the Littleton-on-Sea Home for Abandoned Cats in Mrs Cheddar’s car so that Nellie Smellie wouldn’t suspect anything. Inspector Cheddar parked on the opposite side of the road and got out his
night-vision
binoculars.

‘Now listen, Atticus,’ Inspector Cheddar said. ‘I’ve got officers on the roof.’ He waved at two men dressed in black who were hanging on to the chimney. ‘And I’ve got officers all the way down the street.’ A few car windows opened and fists appeared giving the thumbs-up sign. ‘I’ve got officers guarding every public building from Littleton-on-Sea to Bigsworth. No one can get past us. Your job is to guard the back garden in case they go out that way. You got that?’

‘Meow,’ Atticus said.

‘Good. And don’t let on that we’re here.’

‘Meow.’

‘Okay, off you go.’

Atticus jumped out of the car and slunk across the road. Nellie Smellie’s house had a gate at the
side that led to the back garden. Atticus squeezed under it and followed the path round to the back of the house. A light was shining from the sitting room. Atticus jumped up on the window ledge. The kittens were in there, but to his surprise they weren’t lounging about watching TV. They were crowded round the table doing a jigsaw. Atticus tapped on the window with his claws.

The mean-looking kitten opened it.

‘Hi!’ He looked pleased to see Atticus. ‘Police Cat Sergeant Claw! Where’s your badge?’

Inspector Cheddar had made Atticus take it off for the surveillance operation, although he still had his neckerchief on.

‘I’m incognito,’ Atticus said.

‘In where?’ The kitten looked blank.

‘You’re not supposed to know I’m here,’ Atticus explained.

‘Oh. Why are you telling me then?’

‘Because I want a straight answer,’ Atticus said gruffly. He jumped down off the window ledge into the room.

The kittens stopped doing the jigsaw and looked at him.

‘Is Nellie Smellie behind the graffiti knitting crime wave?’ Atticus demanded.

‘Of course not!’ the kittens said.

‘So you lot aren’t accomplices then?’

‘No!’ the kittens denied.

‘Why should I believe you,’ Atticus said crossly, ‘after what you did the other day?’

The kittens hung their heads.

‘We thought you told us to!’ the mean-looking one protested.

Atticus growled.

‘All right, we didn’t really,’ the kitten admitted. ‘We’re sorry we got you into trouble. We won’t do it again.’

‘Apology accepted,’ Atticus said. ‘What’s with the jigsaw?’

‘Nellie bought us some fun things to do with the money from the lecture!’ Another kitten pointed to a pile of board games and some packs of cards in the corner. ‘Would you like to play something?’

‘Another time.’ Atticus quickly fitted a piece of jigsaw. ‘I’ve got some police-catting to do.’

‘Do you have any leads?’ one of them asked.

‘Not exactly,’ Atticus admitted. ‘More of a hunch.’ The graffiti knitting had ‘magpie’ written all over it. It was just the sort of thing they’d do to create a diversion from something else. But Jimmy and his gang were in Siberia with Klob and Biscuit.
Weren’t they?

‘Why would someone cover the pier in a giant pair of woolly pants?’ The mean-looking kitten frowned. ‘And try to blame it on us and Nellie?’

‘I don’t know.’ Atticus scratched his whiskers. He touched his chewed ear. ‘But that’s exactly what I intend to find out.’

6

As it happened, Atticus didn’t have to wait long.

The next morning Mr Tucker appeared on the doorstep of number 2 Blossom Crescent.

‘What are you doing here, Herman?’ Mrs Tucker asked. She was looking after the kids for the day while Mrs Cheddar was at work. Inspector Cheddar was at the police station, explaining to the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth why he hadn’t caught the graffiti knitter yet. Secretly Inspector Cheddar thought that Atticus might have tipped the kittens off about the surveillance operation. He’d taken him off the case.

‘I’s thought the kids and Atticus might like a trip on me boat,’ Mr Tucker said, looking at the floor. ‘See if we can catch us some saaarrrdines.’

‘Good idea!’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘It’ll take your mind off your beard-jumper.’

‘Can I’s take the motorbike?’ Mr Tucker asked.

‘All right then,’ Mrs Tucker agreed. ‘Pick me up later.’

Soon Atticus, Mimi, Callie and Michael were tucked into the sidecar. Mr Tucker balanced precariously on the saddle. ‘It’s haaarrrd to ride a motorbike with a wooden leg,’ he grumbled.

They zoomed along Blossom Crescent into Townley Road. They came to a T-junction at the High Street. Mr Tucker turned left.

‘Where are we going?’ Michael whispered. ‘This isn’t the way to the sea.’

‘This is the way to Toffly Hall!’ Callie whispered back.

Atticus was puzzled.
Why would Mr Tucker lie about going for a trip on his boat?
He’d been acting
very strangely since his beard-jumper got minced.

They pulled through the gates of Toffly Hall. But instead of going up the main drive towards the house, Mr Tucker turned left along a narrow path through the woods.

They bumped along through the trees. Atticus had never been down here before. The blanket of leaves made everything dark and spooky. After a while they came to a lake. A small rowing boat was tied to a jetty. Mr Tucker stopped the motorbike and switched off the engine.

The children struggled out of the sidecar with Atticus and Mimi.

‘Why are we here?’ Michael asked.

Mr Tucker pointed across the lake towards an island.

‘That’s where Howard Toffly’s crypt is,’ he said.

‘But Mrs Tucker said we weren’t to go looking for the book!’ Callie said, astonished. ‘She told us to leave it alone.’

‘I’s not going after
that
book,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘I’s going after a different book.’

‘A different book?’ Michael echoed.

‘Aye, the one where’s I keeps me notes.’

‘Your notes?’ Callie repeated.

‘Aye!’ Mr Tucker said impatiently. ‘I’s been trying to grow me beard-jumper back,’ he explained. ‘And I’s been doing some experiments in secret and
keeping
all the results in me notebook.’ He looked glum. ‘I didn’t want Edna to find out so I set up a
laboratory
in the crypt. I knew she wouldn’t look for me there! She’s funny about dead people, Edna is.’

Atticus knew how Mrs Tucker felt. He was funny about dead people too. Especially when they’d been killed by an Ancient Egyptian curse. He felt his fur prickle.

‘Why are you telling
us
then?’ Callie asked. ‘If it’s a secret.’

‘Because I keeps forgettin’ things!’ Mr Tucker rubbed his chin. ‘I think one of me blaaarrrsted experiments made me lose me memory. I can’t remember where I’ve put me notebook! And I’m a catfish’s whisker away from growing the best beard-jumper ever!’

To Atticus’s horror, tears began to drip down Mr Tucker’s cheeks. ‘I miss me beard-jumper!’ he howled. ‘I needs youze help!’

‘Of course we’ll help you, Mr Tucker,’ Callie
patted his shoulder. ‘I’m sure we’ll find your book. You probably put it in a safe place somewhere like Mum does with the car keys.’

‘Come on, then!’ Michael said. ‘What are we waiting for?’

The kids and Mr Tucker stepped into the rowing boat. Mimi followed.

Atticus hung back. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help Mr Tucker, but something told him he shouldn’t go to the island.

‘What is it, Atticus?’ Mimi asked. Her golden eyes bored into him.

Atticus shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Just a feeling.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing.’ He hopped into the boat beside Mimi.

The lake was very still. Mr Tucker pulled the boat through the water with the oars. They made a rhythmic splash. A fish jumped. No one spoke. The cats were silent. They were all thinking about Howard Toffly’s ancient book and the curse of the cat pharaoh, except Mr Tucker, who was thinking about his beard-jumper.

The island loomed larger as they crossed the lake. It was mostly covered in thick knotty bushes
and long grass. A few slender silver birch trees waved like ghostly fingers. No one – other than Mr Tucker – had been near the crypt for years. Atticus swallowed. It wasn’t surprising.
Who would want to go there after what happened to Howard Toffly?

They landed at a small wooden jetty and clambered out of the boat.

‘This way!’ Mr Tucker limped off.

The children followed with Mimi. Atticus brought up the rear. Thick green moss squelched beneath his paws. Everything about this place was damp and gloomy. Even the stones, which stuck up here and there like grey teeth through the long grass, were covered with lichen.

‘Look!’ Mimi pointed at one of the stones. It had writing on it.

Atticus’s green eyes grew round. It was a gravestone. They were all gravestones! He felt a rising panic. He was surrounded by dead Tofflys! His chewed ear drooped.

‘This is it!’ Mr Tucker pushed back some tree branches.

The little group stopped dead.

Ahead of them was a marble pyramid. In front of the pyramid, as if they were guarding it, sat two large stone statues of cats.

‘Howard Toffly’s crypt!’ Michael breathed.

Atticus stared. There was something familiar about this place. And yet, how could there be? He’d never been here before in his life! He reached out a paw and touched one of the statues gingerly. He felt a flash of energy run through his paw as if he’d had an electric shock. He jumped back, startled. ‘Mimi!’ he hissed. ‘The statue!’

‘What about it?’ Mimi asked.

‘I don’t know. I thought I felt something when I touched it.’

Mimi touched the statue carefully. She shook her head. ‘It’s just stone.’

Atticus felt stupid. This place was really getting to him.

‘Come on.’ The pyramid had a thick wooden door. It was ajar. Mr Tucker fished in his pocket for a torch and pushed it open. The door creaked. The children stepped in after Mr Tucker. The cats followed. ‘Give me a minute,’ Mr Tucker said,
flashing the torch beam around. ‘While I fires up me generator. I’s just need to change the shaaarrrk faaarrrt bottle.’

Shark fart was also the fuel Mr Tucker used to power his fishing boat.

Callie, Michael, Mimi and Atticus stood silently in the gloom while Mr Tucker rattled about with the shark fart canister. Callie reached for Michael’s hand. Mimi reached for Atticus’s paw.

POOOOOOF!

Suddenly the crypt was filled with light.

They were in a small chamber with an earth floor and marble walls.

The children and the cats stared in astonishment at Mr Tucker’s experiments. None of them had expected anything like
this
. Three picnic tables stood in the middle of the chamber, crowded with strange apparatus connected up with tubes. Colourful potions bubbled and fizzed. Clouds of blue gas puffed from a pair of bellows.
Weird-looking
ingredients spilled from painted jars. Above the picnic tables light bulbs dangled off a looping wire.

‘This is me laboratory!’ Mr Tucker said.

‘Where’s Howard Toffly’s tomb?’ Callie
whispered
nervously.

‘Through there, I suppose.’ Mr Tucker pointed to another door in the wall at the back of the chamber. ‘But don’t worry, youze can’t get in.’ He chuckled. ‘And he can’t get out!’

Atticus was relieved to see that the second door was padlocked.

‘Where did you get all those jars?’ Michael asked.

‘I’s found them lying about on the flooorrr,’ Mr Tucker said. ‘They’re Ancient Egyptian biscuit tins.’

‘No they’re not! They’re canopic jars,’ Michael told him. ‘The Ancient Egyptians kept people’s brains in them when a corpse was mummified.’

‘Oh!’ Mr Tucker flicked his false teeth in and out. ‘I thought that custard cream I had yesterday was a bit soggy.’

Atticus felt sick.

‘Anyways this is what I’s working on at the moment!’ Mr Tucker said proudly. On one of the picnic tables was a Bunsen burner with a stand
around it. Sitting on top of the stand was a glass beaker full of sludge with plastic tubes going in and out in all directions to other bits of equipment.

‘Cool!’ Michael walked towards it. ‘Can you show us how it works?’

‘All right.’ Mr Tucker lit the Bunsen burner. He handed round four pairs of safety goggles. ‘Put these on,’ he ordered.

The children and the two cats put them on. Atticus was worried he looked a bit silly but
luckily
Mimi was too busy watching the experiment to notice.

The contents of the glass beaker started bubbling.

HISS! SPIT! BANG!

The sludge changed from grey to orange to purple.

Drops of liquid dripped in from some of the tubes. Gas ballooned up into others.

‘It’s me beard-jumper potion,’ Mr Tucker
explained
.

‘What’s in it?’ Callie asked.

‘Thumpers’ Traditional Beard Grow, mainly,’ Mr Tucker said,
‘With a pinch of sea salt, saaarrrdine brains, some fabric conditioner, an old sock, cod liver oil, a few flakes of dandruff, a bit of gunpowder and a lock of me old beard-jumper. Then I adds some
different
beard dyes to get the right colour.’

Mimi looked at Atticus and pulled a face. Atticus tried wriggling an eyebrow back but the plastic safety goggles got in the way.

‘Does it work?’ Michael asked, fascinated.

‘Sort of!’ Mr Tucker said. He sat down on a bench and took off his shoe. ‘I tried it on me big toe,’ he said, peeling off a green-and-blue-striped sock. ‘It’s as hairy as a pirate’s chest. And me sock’s involved too, which is good. The only trouble is, me toe’s gone stripy!’

‘Meow!’ Mimi put her paw to her mouth to stop herself laughing. Atticus tried wriggling the other eyebrow.

Mr Tucker’s hairy toe was covered in wiry green and blue sock. Either that or Mr Tucker’s sock was covered in wiry green and blue toe hair. It was hard to tell them apart.

‘That’s why I needs me notebook!’ Mr Tucker said glumly. ‘I need to tweak me measures before I
try it with a jumper on me chin.’ He pulled his sock and shoe back on.

‘Is that all that was left of your old
beard-jumper
?’ Callie asked. The remains of a white fleece were stuffed into a large canopic jar beneath one of the tables.

‘Aye!’ Mr Tucker said sadly. ‘Me beauty!’ Suddenly his face changed. He grinned. He
guffawed
. ‘
That’s
where me notebook is!’ he cried. ‘I remember now! I wanted to keep it dry so I hid it in there and put me beard-jumper on top of it!’ He did a little jig and broke into a sea shanty.