Atticus Claw Lends a Paw (7 page)

8

Atticus was dreaming. In his dream he was sitting on a magnificent throne inside a beautiful golden temple, with Mimi by his side. Crowds of people lined the temple to worship him. The people tiptoed past Atticus one by one, bowing as they went and offering him gifts. Atticus waved a paw at each one to say thank you. Inspector Cheddar was next in line. He shuffled towards Atticus with a squeaky wheelie trolley, reached in and produced a fish pie bursting with prawns. But it wasn’t really Inspector Cheddar. It was Zenia Klob in disguise! And the pie was full of magpies not prawns. They flew at him, chattering madly. At the same time a huge ginger cat leapt from the wheelie trolley ready to devour him …

‘MYAAAAAAWWWWW!’

‘Atticus!’ Mimi was shaking him. ‘Wake up. You’re having a nightmare!’

Atticus looked about. He was lying on Inspector Cheddar’s favourite
armchair
in the sitting room at number 2 Blossom Crescent. His paws were trembling.

‘What’s wrong?’ Mimi asked gently.

‘I don’t know,’ Atticus shook his head. ‘I just feel … weird. I felt the same when I was at the crypt today. I didn’t want to go, but when I got there I couldn’t leave!’

‘Is it something to do with Howard Toffly’s book?’ Mimi asked.

‘Maybe,’ Atticus admitted. ‘It sounds stupid, but I feel like I have to protect it,’ he said. ‘It’s almost as if it belongs to me!’

‘It’s not stupid.’ Mimi gazed at him in silence for a moment. ‘Aisha says that cats have a sixth sense,’ she said eventually.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, most animals have five senses: smell, taste, touch, hearing and sight,’ Mimi explained.
‘But cats have another one: my owner Aisha says they remember things from their other lives. She calls it “instinct” – they just seem to know things without being taught.’

‘That’s exactly what I feel!’ Atticus exclaimed. ‘I know I have to protect that book. I have to stop the magpies and Biscuit stealing it. Which means I have to steal it myself. What should I do, Mimi? I don’t want to be a cat burglar again.’

‘Follow your instinct,’ Mimi said. ‘Protect the book. It’s not stealing.’ She squeezed his paw. ‘If it really does belong to you.’

‘But how could it?’ Atticus asked, bewildered.

‘I don’t know,’ Mimi said. ‘Just do what you have to. We can’t let Klob get her hands on it. And don’t worry,’ she reassured him, ‘the kids and I will watch your tail.’

She waited until Atticus had fallen asleep again. Then she padded back into the kitchen and settled down in the basket. She decided she would check on him later, just to make sure he didn’t have any more nightmares.

‘What are you two doing out of bed?’ Mrs Cheddar asked. ‘It’s three o’clock in the morning!’

Michael and Callie were standing in her
bedroom
doorway in their pyjamas. ‘It’s Atticus,’ Michael said. ‘He’s gone.’

‘Gone?’ Mrs Cheddar rubbed her eyes. ‘He’s a cat. He goes out at night. He’ll be all right.’

‘No he won’t, Mum,’ Michael insisted. ‘Mimi woke us. We can tell she’s worried.’

Mimi jumped on to Mrs Cheddar’s bed. ‘Meow!’ she yowled. Her golden eyes looked anxious. She put out a paw and touched Mrs Cheddar’s hand.

‘Maybe he went with Dad,’ Mrs Cheddar suggested. ‘To stake out the Home for Abandoned Cats.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Michael said. ‘Dad told him to stay here. He’s taken him off the case. He thinks Atticus tipped off the kittens.’

‘Well, where do you think Atticus is, then?’ Mrs Cheddar struggled out of bed and put her dressing gown on.

‘We think he’s gone back to the crypt,’ Callie gulped.

‘
Back
to the crypt?!’ Mrs Cheddar repeated.
‘What are you talking about?’

Michael and Callie traded guilty looks.

‘You tell her,’ Callie said.

‘Okay.’ Michael took a deep breath. ‘Don’t be cross, Mum,’ he said, ‘but it’s like this.’ He explained what had happened that afternoon with Mr Tucker. ‘The magpies took the wrong book.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’ Mrs Cheddar asked.

‘Because Mr Tucker didn’t want us to,’ Callie explained. ‘He thought Mrs Tucker would get mad with him if she found out what he’d been doing. But now Atticus has disappeared and it’s our fault.’ She was close to tears. ‘He’s gone back for Howard Toffly’s book.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ Mrs Cheddar asked.

‘Atticus didn’t want to leave without it earlier.’ Michael said. ‘He was acting weird: like he wanted to stay and protect it from the magpies.’

Mimi began to purr.

‘Is that where he is, Mimi? At the crypt?’ Mrs Cheddar reached out and stroked her. Mimi arched her back. She purred harder. It wasn’t anything like as loud as Atticus’s throaty roar but Mrs
Cheddar got the idea anyway. ‘We must tell Dad,’ she said firmly. ‘He needs to know the magpies are back. He needs to know the Tofflys have put Klob on to Howard Toffly’s book.’ Suddenly a thought struck her. ‘I’ll bet those villains are behind the graffiti knitting.’ She reached for her mobile. ‘I’ll call him now.’

‘There isn’t time!’ Callie said. ‘And anyway, Dad won’t believe you. He’s convinced the kittens did it.’

Mrs Cheddar hesitated. ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘Get dressed. We’ll go to Toffly Hall and get the Tuckers. Mrs Tucker will have to find out sooner or later about the laboratory. We’ll tell Dad in the morning.’

‘This is all your fault, Herman.’

A little while later, in the grounds of Toffly Hall, Mrs Cheddar, Mr and Mrs Tucker, Michael, Callie and Mimi crept along the path through the trees towards the lake. The moon was bright so the humans could just about make out where they were going, although the canopy of branches
made everything dark and shadowy. Mimi had no problem: cats can see in the dark.

Mrs Tucker was cross. ‘You should have told me what you were up to, you old roach!’ she said.

‘My fault?!’ Mr Tucker spluttered. ‘I ain’t the one flying about stealing people’s notebooks. It’s them magpies youze should be complaining about.’

Mrs Tucker ignored him. ‘Goodness knows what’s going to happen now.’ She shivered. ‘I’ve had a bad feeling about this cat pharaoh business from the very beginning.’

‘Atticus?’ Mrs Cheddar called. ‘Atticus!’

‘He can’t have gone faaarrr!’ Mr Tucker grumbled. His wooden leg kept getting stuck down rabbit holes. ‘I mean, he can’t row a boat, and he’s not going to swim to the island, is he? He hates water.’

‘You sure about that, Herman?’ Mrs Tucker snapped. ‘Atticus seems to be able to do most things.’

They reached the lake. It was black, like ink.

There was no sign of Atticus.

‘Now what do we do?’ Mrs Cheddar said.

Mrs Tucker pulled out a pair of night-vision binoculars from her basket. She peered through them.

‘I knew it!’ she whispered. She handed them to Michael.

Michael gasped. There, in the middle of the lake, crouched on a log, was Atticus. He was paddling towards the island with his front paws.

‘Let me see!’ Callie grabbed the binoculars.

It was Mrs Cheddar’s turn after that. Then Mr Tucker’s.

‘Will you look at that!’ he whistled. ‘Youze got to admit, that cat’s got claaasss. He can crew me boat any day.’

‘Come on,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘He’s going to need some help if those magpies come back. Especially if Klob and Biscuit are with them.’

They jumped into the rowing boat. Mr Tucker clambered in after them and took the oars. Soon they were skimming swiftly across the lake.

They landed at the jetty.

Wet paw prints on the wooden planks told them Atticus was just ahead.

‘Atticus!’ Callie hissed. ‘Atticus!’

‘It’s no good,’ said Mrs Tucker. ‘He can’t hear you. And even if he could, I’m not sure he’d listen.’

They hurried along the mossy path to the crypt. Mr Tucker led the way with the torch. He parted the branches to reveal Howard Toffly’s burial place.

‘Holy coley!’ Mrs Tucker breathed when she saw the pyramid.

Mr Tucker pushed open the door. ‘Wait, while I get me generator working,’ he said.

POOOOOOOFFF!

Light flooded the laboratory.

Mrs Tucker let out a snort of disapproval when she saw Mr Tucker’s experiments.

‘Look!’ Michael cried.

The padlock to the second chamber lay on the floor where Atticus had picked it open with his claws. The door creaked on its rusty hinges.

‘Come on!’

‘What about the curse?’ Callie whispered.

‘If Atticus isn’t worried about it then neither am I,’ Michael said bravely. He grabbed the torch and made for the door.

‘Nor me!’ Callie followed him. She crossed her
fingers behind her back.

‘Me neither!’ Mrs Cheddar said a little prayer. She scooped up Mimi.

‘This is the best fun I’ve had since me
beard-jumper
got chopped.’ Mr Tucker collected some more torches from his supplies and clanked after them. ‘Sorry about the experiments, Edna,’ he added. ‘Are youze coming?’

‘Bring it on!’ Mrs Tucker swung her basket. ‘If that cat pharaoh does anything to Atticus, he’ll have me to answer to. Besides, I won’t let Klob get her hands on that book. Let’s go.’

9

‘Howard Toffly’s coffin,’ Michael whispered.

They were in a second chamber, bigger and cooler than the one Mr Tucker was using as his laboratory. In the middle an oblong marble coffin stood on a platform. Screwed into it was a gold plaque.

The group tiptoed towards it. Michael flashed his torch at the plaque.

‘It’s like a fridge in here.’ Callie shivered.

‘That’s so his corpse doesn’t decompose,’ Mr Tucker said helpfully.

CRASH!

A gust of wind blew the door shut. The only light came from the thin beams of their torches.

Callie screamed.

‘It’s okay, darling!’ Mrs Cheddar held her hand.

They flashed their torches around.

There was no sign of Atticus.

‘He must be here somewhere,’ Mrs Cheddar said, her voice shaking.

The children felt their way around the walls. ‘Atticus!’ they whispered. ‘Atticus!’

‘What about down here?’ Mrs Tucker said.

In one corner of the room was a trapdoor. Someone had lifted it up. Steep steps led down from it into the dark earth.

‘Atticus couldn’t lift that.’ Mrs Cheddar frowned.

‘If he can paddle across a lake, he can lift a
trapdoor
,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘I reckon he’s sleepwalking. And when you’re sleepwalking, you can do pretty much anything your brain tells you to. Come on.’ She put Mimi in her basket and led the way carefully down the narrow steps. Michael came next with the torch. Mrs Cheddar followed with Callie. Mr Tucker limped along at the rear, cursing his wooden leg.

‘There he is!’ Callie cried.

Atticus was a little way ahead of them, padding slowly down the steps into the darkness.

‘Atticus!’ Michael whispered.

‘Atticus!’ Callie said it louder. Her voice echoed off the damp walls.

Atticus didn’t seem to hear them. He padded on.

‘Shhhh,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘If he’s sleepwalking we need to be careful how we wake him up.’

‘Why?’ Callie hissed.

‘In case he gets stuck in his dream,’ Mrs Tucker whispered grimly.

The steps ended in a passageway. Atticus padded along it. Suddenly he stopped. He’d reached a brick wall.

‘It’s a dead end!’ Michael sounded half relieved, half disappointed.

‘Wait!’ Callie breathed. ‘What’s he doing now?’

‘He’s looking for something!’ Mrs Cheddar said.

Atticus paced up and down, his eyes fixed to the wall. Eventually he found what he was looking for. He raised a paw. He placed it against a brick. There was a grinding sound as part of the wall rolled sideways.

‘The secret chamber!’ Callie whispered.

Atticus disappeared through the opening.

The others followed a safe distance behind. They paused to gaze at the wall in the torchlight. It was covered in strange symbols.

‘Hieroglyphs!’ Mrs Cheddar whispered.

There were paintings too.

‘The cat pharaoh!’ Mrs Tucker gasped.

The paintings were of a large black-and-
brown-striped
tabby with white socks and deep green eyes. He was wearing a pharaoh’s headdress of blue and gold.

‘It’s Atticus!’ Michael and Callie said together.

‘Flamin’ fishfingers!’ Mr Tucker whistled.

‘It looks just like him!’ Mrs Cheddar stared.

‘I knew it!’ Mrs Tucker muttered.

They entered the secret chamber. The floor was littered with statues of the cat pharaoh. They looked identical to the paintings outside.

‘They can’t all be real,’ Mrs Cheddar said.

‘They’re not.’ Mrs Tucker picked one up and examined it.

‘How do
you
know, Edna?’ Mr Tucker asked, bewildered.

‘Because when I was Agent Whelk, I spent several months in Egypt living with the Bedouin in the desert,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘I’ve been to the pyramids. I’ve seen Ancient Egyptian treasure. These are fake.’

‘So where’s the book?’ Michael whispered.

‘I’ll bet one of these is a
real
statue Howard Toffly stole from the lost city of Nebu-Mau.’ Mrs Tucker looked round slowly. ‘He’s tried to disguise it by having all these replicas made. My guess is the book will be hidden inside the real one.’ She pointed at Atticus. ‘If anyone can find it, he can.’

Atticus picked his way amongst the statues. He stopped at one and sniffed. He circled it for moment then kicked the others out of the way with his hind legs.

‘He’s got it!’ Mrs Tucker said.

Atticus looked keenly at the statue. He raised a paw and popped out his claws. He reached towards it and tinkered with one of the ears.

The statue sprang apart.

Atticus felt inside and pulled out an old
leather-bound
book.

Suddenly there was a loud moan from
somewhere
up above.

‘MYAAAAAWWWW!’

‘What was that?’ Callie looked round.

‘It’s Biscuit!’ Mrs Cheddar cried.

‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

‘And those mangy magpies!’ Mr Tucker shouted.

‘Quick! Mimi! Get Atticus!’ Mrs Tucker ordered.

Mimi leapt out of the basket.

‘Be careful!’ Mrs Tucker warned. ‘He’s still in a trance.’

The beat of wings grew louder. There was a rush of air as the magpies swooped into the secret chamber behind them.

‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ An orange one with hairy legs flew at Mr Tucker.

‘You’re the beast that stole me notebook!’ Mr Tucker swiped at Thug.

‘Atticus!’ Mimi hissed. ‘Wake up!’ She touched him on the shoulder.

Atticus jumped. ‘Mimi?’ He looked round in surprise. ‘Where am I?’

‘You mean you don’t know?’ Mimi said.

‘I …’

‘MYYAAAAWWWW!’

‘Biscuit!’ Atticus cried. He snatched up the book
in his teeth.

Mr Tucker scooped Atticus and Mimi up in his arms. ‘Come on, youze twooze,’ he said. ‘There’s no time to lose.’

‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

Mrs Tucker was fighting the magpies off with her basket.

Mrs Cheddar, Callie and Michael hurled fake statues at Ginger Biscuit.

SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!

The statues shattered against the walls and floor.

Biscuit turned and twisted, hissing and spitting like an old kettle. He was cornered.

‘Retreat!’ Mr Tucker roared.

They hurried back up the steps.

‘Somebody close the trapdoor!’ Mr Tucker yelled. ‘I’ve got me arms full of cats.’

BANG!

Mrs Tucker slammed it shut.

THUD!

The trapdoor juddered as something heavy smashed into it from below.

‘Biscuit!’ Mrs Cheddar screamed. ‘Come on. It won’t hold him for long!’

‘MMYYYAAAWWWW!’

They raced back past Howard Toffly’s coffin.

CRASH! Mrs Tucker pushed the door to the tomb shut. She braced herself against it. ‘Get the padlock!’

CRUNCH!

Biscuit bashed into the door from the other side.

Mrs Tucker staggered.

CLICK!

Mrs Cheddar locked the padlock. ‘That’ll keep him busy for a while!’

‘MMYYYAAAWWWW!’

They ran out into the night towards the jetty.

‘Get into the boat!’ Mrs Tucker puffed. ‘Klob won’t be far away.’

They cast off. Mr Tucker grabbed the oars and steered them out into the lake. Just then they heard the chug of a motorboat.

‘Is that her?’ Michael whispered.

Callie’s face was white with fear.

‘Now what do we do?’ Mrs Cheddar held the kids’ hands tight.

‘Leave this to me!’ Mrs Tucker told her. ‘We’ve got the book, Klob!’ she shouted.

Chug, chug, chug.

‘If you come any closer we’ll chuck it in the lake.’

The chugging stopped.

‘And your evil animal pals need some help,’ Mrs Tucker yelled. ‘We’ve locked them in the crypt.’

There was silence.

‘And don’t even think about hairpinning me!’ Mrs Tucker took the book from Atticus’s clenched teeth and held it over the water. ‘Or I’ll drop this in the drink.’

‘I’ll get you for this, Velk!’ a voice screeched through the darkness. ‘Just you vait!’

The chugging started up again and faded away.

‘She’s gone!’ Callie whispered. ‘Are you all right, Atticus?’

Atticus was trembling violently. Both his ears drooped. Callie picked him up and cuddled him. She buried her face in his fur. Michael tickled his chin.

Atticus began to purr weakly.

‘He’s feeling better, thank goodness,’ Mrs Cheddar said. She found a cat treat in her pocket and offered it to him.

Atticus took it gratefully. He was starving.

Mrs Tucker wrapped the book in her cardigan and placed it carefully in the basket. ‘Now let’s get you home,’ she said, giving Atticus a sardine. ‘Before you get yourself into any more trouble.’