Goldwhiskers (13 page)

‘Fresh?' asked Squeak.

Bubble inspected the prints closely. ‘Looks like it,' he reported.

‘Let's see where they go, then,' said Glory, and,
clinging carefully to the shadows at the base of the wall, she started to follow the trail. Bubble and Squeak crept along behind her.

So much for my holiday in London
, thought Glory ruefully. Her Christmas break had quickly turned into a working holiday. Not that she minded – Oz and DB were infinitely more important than touring the city. Glory halted. In front of her, the paw prints suddenly veered off towards the centre of the room – and the glass case.

‘This is as far as we go,' cautioned Bubble. ‘Mustn't risk being seen.'

The exhibit – which was closed to the public pending a full investigation into the jewel heist – was crawling with detectives from Scotland Yard. The three spy mice agents had taken quite a risk getting even this far. Fortunately, their Pigeon Air flights had managed to avoid the security cameras on the roof, but they'd had a couple of close calls inside the building.

‘But we've got to see where the trail leads!' Glory protested. ‘Two of our agents are at stake!'

‘It was probably just a pair of little thrill-seekers, come to see what all the excitement's about,' said Squeak.

‘Maybe you're right,' replied Glory. ‘But I still need to know for sure. Something smells fishy to me.'

‘How are we going to get from here,' said Bubble, tapping the wall, ‘to there?' He pointed at the display case. ‘Without being seen, I mean.'

Three pairs of bright little eyes scanned the room. Above them, bolted to the ceiling at regular intervals, were security cameras just waiting to catch their every move. Across from them stood a throng of sharp-eyed human investigators. It was hopeless.

Just then, there was a rumble in the hallway outside, and a guard pushed a cart laden with tea and coffee and snacks into the room.

‘Break time!' he called out cheerfully, and the humans quickly crowded around.

‘One down,' said Bubble softly. ‘Bit of luck, that. But there are still the cameras.'

‘Wait a minute – I have an idea,' said Squeak. She rummaged in her backpack and pulled out a large hankie. ‘A bit low-tech, but sometimes the simplest way is best. I found it in the lobby of the Savoy on the way to work this morning.' She rubbed at a lipstick smudge in one corner of the fabric and frowned. ‘Just needs a bit of a wash and it'll be good as new. I'm going to give it to my mum for Christmas. She's been wanting a new bedspread for ages.'

‘So what's your plan?' asked Glory, puzzled.

In reply, Squeak draped the hankie on the floor. ‘Look – it's the same colour.'

‘Squeak, you're a genius!' said Glory.

‘I heartily agree,' added Bubble. ‘Perfect camouflage! We'll be practically invisible!'

Each mouse grasped a corner of the hankie, and together they gave it a shake. As the square of fabric ballooned up, they quickly huddled beneath it. It drifted down, concealing them from view. Squeak poked her head out from under one side and glanced over at the humans. ‘Ready, steady – go!' she called, pulling her head back in. The hankie scuttled across the floor towards the glass display case.

Not a single Scotland Yard detective noticed. Not a single security camera whirred to life. The hankie bumped up against the display case and came to a halt. Three small furry heads appeared as the mice cautiously emerged.

‘There!' said Glory triumphantly. She pointed to a crack at the base of the display case. It was small enough not to arouse the suspicion of human investigators, but large enough for a mouse to pass through.

‘Do you really think a pair of mouselings could have pulled this off?' said Squeak.

Click! Click! Click!
Glory's camera whirred. ‘I have no idea,' she replied. ‘But if there's an opening above, and any sign of paw prints, we've got our man. Er, mouse, I mean. Mice. Whatever – let's go!'

Leading the way, Glory disappeared through the crack. Bubble and Squeak were right on her tail. A minute later, three little noses poked out beneath the Imperial State Crown.

‘Oh, my,' said Glory, dazzled.

Before them, stretching the length of the long display case, gleamed a bright river of gold and gems. The Crown Jewels of England! The trio of secret agents crept forward and craned their little necks up at the crown that had shielded them from view. Worn by human queens and kings at their coronations, it was enormous. Its surface glittered with diamonds, sapphires, pearls and other precious stones. Affixed to its front, at the centre, was a glowing red stone the size of a pigeon's egg.

‘The Black Prince's Ruby,' whispered Squeak.

‘Oh, my,' said Glory again, her camera clicking furiously. ‘We don't have anything like this back in Washington.' She contemplated the enormous ruby. ‘So why didn't that get stolen too? It must be worth a fortune.'

‘The Koh-i-Noor is the only stone in the collection that's detachable,' explained Bubble. ‘Whoever pulled this off knew exactly what they were doing.'

Squeak nudged them. ‘Look!' she said softly. ‘A paw print.'

Sure enough, impressed very faintly into the velvet that draped across the display case in front of them was a single, tiny paw print.

Click! Click! Click!
went Glory's camera. ‘I still don't get it,' she said, looking up at her colleagues. ‘It doesn't add up. What mouselings do you know that could mastermind a stunt like this? Even if they did manage to grab the Koh-i-Noor and the ring – then what?'

‘The answer's got to be here somewhere,' Squeak replied. ‘Let's go back down and see if we can pick up the trail again.'

The three spy mice withdrew beneath the Imperial Crown and re-emerged a minute later at the base of the display case.

‘Hurry,' urged Bubble, casting an anxious glance over at the knot of humans by the cart. ‘Break time's nearly over.'

Once again using the hankie as a shield, the mice quickly retraced their steps to the shadows of the far
wall. They fanned out and began searching for more paw prints. Several minutes ticked by. Then –

‘Here!' cried Squeak excitedly. ‘Look, these ones lead in a different direction!'

Glory and Bubble rushed over.

‘Looks like the two of them were dragging something heavy,' said Bubble, pointing to a wide swathe in the dust between the twin trails.

‘Like a diamond and a ring?' suggested Glory, her camera clicking furiously as she photographed the crime scene.

‘Hard to say,' Bubble replied. ‘But look here – the trail just stops.'

The mice frowned at the floor. He was right.

‘A cat got them, perhaps?' suggested Squeak.

Bubble shook his head. ‘No cats allowed in the Tower,' he said. ‘On account of the ravens.'

‘It's a dead end,' said Squeak, disappointed.

‘Not necessarily,' Glory replied. She pointed to the ventilation grate in the wall above them. ‘Did either of you happen to bring along your grappling equipment?'

In reply, Bubble reached into his backpack and pulled out a fish hook. Tied to it was a long piece of dental floss. Swinging it expertly around his head, he flung the fish hook up at the grating. It wound
itself round the metal grid and caught. Bubble tugged on the line to be sure it was secure, then passed it politely to Glory. ‘After you.'

‘Thanks,' she said. Grabbing the floss in her front paws, Glory braced her hind paws against the wall and hauled herself swiftly up. Squeak followed, and Bubble brought up the rear, keeping a sharp eye on the humans.

‘They must have gone through here,' said Glory, clinging to the grating and peering into the darkness beyond.

‘Pretty slick for a pair of mouselings,' said Squeak.

‘Not if our boogeymouse was directing them,' Glory replied. ‘I'm beginning to think these two cases are related.'

Bubble nodded in agreement. ‘I think perhaps you're right,' he said.

‘But what mouse would do such a thing?' cried Squeak. ‘Steal from humans, I mean?'

‘Don't forget our old friend Fumble,' said Glory. ‘It wouldn't be the first time a mouse did something dishonourable.' She pulled up the line of dental floss and dropped it through the grating to the darkness below. ‘We need evidence, though, if we're going to help Oz and DB.'

Bubble and Squeak stared at her, horrified. ‘You
mean we'd tell the humans at Scotland Yard that a mouse did this?'

Glory patted her camera. ‘We wouldn't exactly have to break the Mouse Code and
talk
to them,' she explained. ‘We could just return the jewels, along with a few photographs. Humans are pretty smart; they'd put two and two together.'

‘They'd never believe it,' said Bubble. ‘Not in a million years.'

‘We have to try,' said Glory. ‘This is Oz and DB we're talking about. They're true blue – and they're innocent. A criminal is a criminal, no matter how many legs he or she has. We need to find the Koh-i-Noor and the Sovereign's Ring and bring these misguided mice to justice. Here.'

Glory reached into her backpack and pulled out a trio of small headbands (cloth-covered elastic hair bands dropped by girls who visited the Spy Museum). Glued to the middle of each was a tiny light bulb foraged from a discarded penlight. Glory gave one to each of her British friends, then strapped her own to her forehead. ‘Bunsen sent these along,' she said. ‘Another new invention. He got the idea from some human TV show about cave explorers. Thought they might come in handy.'

‘I've always wanted to go exploring,' said Bubble happily. He switched on his headlamp, and a tiny beam shot out into the darkness. Squeak and Glory switched theirs on as well, and the three mice rappelled down into the dusty gloom.

‘Nothing much back here,' said Squeak, her voice echoing in the empty crawl space.

The trio of slender beams criss-crossed this way and that as the mice looked around.

‘Wait!' called Squeak in excitement. ‘Look over there! More paw prints!'

Flash! Flash! Flash!
Bubble and Squeak blinked as Glory photographed the twin trails of prints. ‘The two of them were definitely dragging something,' she reported. ‘There's that same mark again.'

Bubble leaned down closer to the floor, squinting at a flurry of paw prints. ‘What happened here?' he asked. ‘Looks like a scuffle of some kind.'

‘An ambush, do you think?' asked Squeak.

Once again, the slender beams from the mice's headlamps criss-crossed back and forth in the gloom. But aside from the trail of paw prints and the scuffle marks in the dust, there was nothing else to be seen.

‘Whatever happened, they must have escaped
through there,' said Bubble. He pointed to the duct at the far end of the crawl space.

‘We'd better report back to HQ,' said Squeak. ‘And we'll need to talk to that mouseling again – what was his name?'

‘Smudge,' said Glory.

‘Right. He'll be at Nibbleswick by now.'

‘One of us should rendezvous with Oz and DB. They still need to be debriefed,' said Bubble.

Glory's camera clicked rapidly as she took a few final photographs. ‘It's so frustrating,' she said to her British friends as the three of them started to clamber back up the line of dental floss. ‘I feel like we're so close to an answer.' She shook her head.

As she did so, the beam from her headlamp brushed the far edge of the crawl space, just beneath the ventilation duct. Out of the corner of her eye, Glory caught a glint of something. She paused, squinting in the gloom.

‘Hang on a sec,' she said, and slid back down to the floor. She scurried over to investigate.

Glory stooped down and plucked something off the floor. She held it up to the light. It was a whisker. A gold whisker.