Atticus Claw Breaks the Law (10 page)

18

Atticus had never been to a police station before. He didn’t like it. The first thing that happened was someone took his pawprints. Then a flashlight went off in his face as someone else took his picture. Finally he was thrown into a cell.

The cell had a bench with a thin grey blanket on it. There was a bowl of water in the corner. Apart from that it was completely bare: not the sort of place a cool cat like Atticus would choose to spend the night.

Desperately he looked about for a way to escape.

There was a grille in the door at human eye level where people came and peered at him from time to time, but the mesh was too narrow for him to squeeze through and it was nailed into the wooden frame with about a thousand tacks. It would take
him the rest of his nine lives to pick them out with his teeth. His molars ached at the thought of it.

The window looked more of a possibility. It was quite high up but at least it was open. The only
problem
was it was covered with thick iron bars. Atticus sat down and patted his tummy with his front paws. He sighed. If he couldn’t get through the cat flap it wasn’t very likely he would squeeze through those bars even if he
could
jump up there. It was hopeless! He was doomed to spend the rest of his life in jail. He knew he deserved it in a way, but it meant he’d never be able to take the rest of the jewellery back. He’d never make Inspector Cheddar realise that the magpies had been involved. He’d never be able to say sorry to Mrs Cheddar and Mrs Tucker. And the worst thing was, he would never see Callie and Michael again.

He crawled under the blanket and closed his eyes.

Later that evening, Inspector Cheddar was called in to see the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth.

‘Great work, Cheddar!’ The Chief Inspector beamed. ‘I knew you’d find the culprit.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Inspector Cheddar said heavily.

‘To think you had him under your own roof the whole time!’

‘Yes, sir.’ Inspector Cheddar sighed.

‘I’ve told the Tofflys.’

‘Good.’ Inspector Cheddar nodded glumly.

‘And I’m pleased to say they’ve decided to go ahead with the antiques fair tomorrow.’

Inspector Cheddar managed a smile. That was one good thing at least – his wife still stood a chance of getting a job on
Get Rich Quick!
But it didn’t make up for the fact his family hated him. The children weren’t speaking to him. Mrs Cheddar refused to take his calls. And Mrs Tucker had ridden all the way back to Littleton-on-Sea Police Station on her
motorbike
to pour cod-liver oil in his tea. It was tough being a Police Inspector. He almost wished he was back on traffic duty.

‘I suppose I should be getting up to the Hall to check the security, sir.’ Inspector Cheddar made to leave the office.

‘What’s the point?’ The Chief Inspector of Bigsworth helped himself to a chocolate biscuit. ‘The burglar’s behind bars. You should be out
celebrating
!’

Inspector Cheddar wished he could feel as cheerful
about Atticus’s arrest as the Chief Inspector did. For some reason though, catching the world’s
greatest
cat burglar had left him feeling empty inside. He hated to admit it, but he’d got used to Atticus being around. The kids had been right. It
was
nice to have a pet. It made Blossom Crescent feel more like home.

‘I’ll just go and have a quick look anyway,’ he said, putting on his cap.

‘By the way, Cheddar,’ the Chief Inspector said. ‘Where do you think the cat’s hidden the rest of the jewellery?’

Inspector Cheddar shrugged. That was a question he’d been asking himself. Only some of the stolen goods had turned up in Atticus’s basket. ‘I don’t know, sir,’ he said, ‘but I’m sure we’ll find it soon.’

‘Make sure you do.’ The Chief Inspector of Bigsworth nodded. He sat back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. He closed his eyes. ‘Then we can close the case.’

At number 2 Blossom Crescent Michael and Callie were still up. They were sitting in the kitchen with Mrs Tucker. Mrs Cheddar still wasn’t back.

Atticus’s basket had been taken away for forensic
examination but his food and water bowls still stood on the floor beside the back door. The children stared at them gloomily.

‘He didn’t steal Mum’s brooch,’ Callie said fiercely. ‘I know he didn’t. He was framed!’

‘The question is,’ Michael said, ‘how do we prove it?’

Mrs Tucker plonked two mugs of hot chocolate down on the table. ‘What we need is evidence,’ she said. She pulled the ironing board out of a tall
cupboard
and opened it with a clang.

‘Maybe the magpies left some clues,’ Michael
suggested
.

‘Good thinking,’ Mrs Tucker agreed. ‘Let’s check the kitchen for feathers.’

Callie and Michael got down on their hands and knees. ‘I’ve found some!’ Callie cried. ‘Over here by the cat flap!’ She held them out in her hand.

‘And there’s some footprints here by his food bowl!’ Michael said, examining the floor carefully.

‘And something smelly’s been in my washing machine!’ Mrs Tucker closed it with a bang. She heaved the laundry basket on to the table. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Wait a minute!’ she said, peeling off a pair of pants from the top of the pile. ‘Those beastly birds have been in my clean knickers. There are feathers everywhere!’

Callie and Michael couldn’t help giggling. Then they remembered Atticus.

‘Poor Atticus,’ Callie sighed. ‘He must be feeling really lonely in his cell.’

‘I have an idea …’ Mrs Tucker said thoughtfully, picking up a feather and examining it. ‘Tomorrow morning we’re going to set Atticus free.’

‘But how can we do that?’ Michael said. ‘Dad will be furious!’

‘Not when Atticus helps us catch these meddling magpies red-footed, he won’t,’ Mrs Tucker said grimly.

‘You mean you think they’re going to try
something
else?’ Callie gasped.

‘I certainly do.’ Mrs Tucker threw the knickers back into the wash. ‘That’s why they want Atticus out of the way – so he can’t stop them. As I said, magpies are clever. They’re wicked, scheming little weasels.’ She shivered. ‘You can bet your barracudas we haven’t seen the last of them by a long way.’

‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’

Around midnight Atticus was awoken by a familiar cackle.

‘Jimmy!’ he hissed. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘That’s not a very nice welcome when I’ve flown all the way here specially to visit you.’ The magpie peered down on him from between the bars on the window, his head on one side. ‘Not so superior now, are you, Atticus Claw?’

Atticus snarled. ‘I’m still better than you. Sneaking about in people’s houses, planting false evidence – I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy.’

‘Really?’ Jimmy Magpie blinked. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment. Looks like we’ve overtaken you. We’re the greatest BIRD burglars in the world! You’re the greatest cat BUNGLER! Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka.’

‘You won’t get away with it,’ Atticus hissed. ‘The children know you did it.’

‘Not the little kiddiewinks.’ Jimmy put on his baby voice. ‘Ooh, I’m scared!’

‘Don’t talk about my friends like that.’ Atticus bared his teeth. If only he could get up to the window, he’d wipe that smirk off Jimmy’s beak once and for all. ‘It won’t be long before someone takes a look in that nest of yours and sees what you’ve been up to. You’ll go down for years.’

‘That?’ Jimmy boasted. ‘That’s nothing compared to what we’ve got planned for tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘Ever heard of the Tofflys’ tiara?’ Jimmy
whispered
.

Atticus’s green eyes widened. ‘You’re going to hit the Toffly Hall antiques fair,’ he breathed.

‘It was Thug and Slasher’s idea,’ Jimmy said
generously
. ‘They eavesdropped when your precious Cheddars were having a little chat about it over breakfast. Then they went up to the Hall and cased the joint. I decided not to tell you about it. Just as well, as things turned out. I wasn’t sure we could trust you. And it turns out I was right.’

‘You lying cheat!’

‘Too bad, pussy cat. Anyway, what about
you
– sucking up to those cheesy Cheddars? Moving in with them, even. You kept that pretty quiet, didn’t you?’

‘It was an accident. And don’t talk about them like that!’

‘Ah, how cute – the kitty’s gone all cuddly!’ Jimmy mocked. ‘Can’t say I blame you, though. Very cosy it is there too. I wouldn’t mind paying them another visit soon.’

‘Grrrrr …’ Atticus hated Jimmy crowing about the Cheddars as though he knew them. It made his
fur stand on end to think of Thug and Slasher
listening
in on their family conversations and the three magpies making themselves at home in Mrs Tucker’s tidy kitchen. It was
his
home, not the magpies’. At least it had been.

‘Keep your whiskers on, Claw,’ Jimmy said. ‘We won’t hurt them. It’s the diamonds we’re after. And whatever else we can pick up at the antiques fair. I hear on the bird-vine there’s going to be some nice stuff about.’ He grinned. ‘And now you’re safely tucked up in here, the cops aren’t expecting any trouble.’ He cackled. ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka! I’m afraid your Inspector Cheddar and his missus are in for a nasty surprise. It’s traffic duty he hates, right? Well he’ll be getting plenty of that after tomorrow.’

‘You won’t get away with it,’ Atticus said fiercely. ‘Three measly magpies against hundreds of humans? You don’t stand a chance.’

‘Who said anything about three of us?’ Jimmy’s eyes shone brilliantly in the moonlight. ‘I’ve asked a few pals along. Thug and Slasher have been
spreading
the word. It’s going to be quite a party, isn’t it, lads?’ He rattled his beak along the bars and flew off.

Atticus heard the rush of wings. In the moonlight
he saw a flock of birds swoop and dive across the sky. There were hundreds of magpies – thousands
possibly
. ‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’ The night was alive with the sound of excited chattering.

Atticus was beside himself. He had to get out of there! He had to warn Inspector Cheddar. He had to tell Mrs Cheddar and Callie and Michael. He threw himself at the cell door, yowling. When that didn’t work he jumped on to the bench and hurled himself at the window. When that didn’t work either, he curled up on the cold floor and pressed his face to the wall. If only Callie and Michael would come. If only he hadn’t been so stupid.