by Denis Byrne
‘Only my usual bedtime cup of cocoa,’ the Superintendent chuckled. ‘Nor have I been eating magic mushrooms, or indulging in any other hallucinatory drugs recently. After all, Harrington, I am a police officer.’
Harrington felt as though he could do with some sort of stimulant himself at the moment. The idea of Mr. Pearson joining them in the hunt for the kidnappers was one he was finding it difficult to come to terms with. All he could picture in his mind’s eye was the poor, unfortunate man being swept along by Mrs. Pearson both in and out of the station that day she’d come to report on seeing Charlie in all his pride and glory.
He shuddered to think what the woman would do if Mr. Pearson blithely informed her he was off now to do some undercover police work, and was very sorry, but he couldn’t give her any more information, as the task he was in engaged in was extremely shush-shush.
‘Sir, pterodactyls have been extinct for millions of years,’ Harrington thought it his duty to point out, narrowly missing walking into a lamppost, so intent was he on concentrating on not letting the Superintendent make an ass of him altogether. ‘I think Danny must have been pulling your leg about both that and Mr. Pearson.’
‘Tell that to Charlie next time you meet him,’ the Superintendent answered, still sounding amused. ‘I don’t think anyone told him they were out of fashion.’
‘I see, sir,’ Harrington said, having witnessed some pretty incredible things with his own eyes where Danny and Charlie were concerned. ‘I think I understand.’
‘I’ll be in touch, Harrington,’ the Superintendent told him, sounding much more serious now. ‘The best thing for both of us now is to try and get good nights sleep.’
As Harrington rang off and put his mobile into his pocket, he somehow doubted that either of them would. Time was running out fast.
*
Danny wasn’t finding it easy to sleep either. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Every time he thought he was about to nod off, he felt himself falling through space, the ground rushing up to meet him faster than he thought possible. Then he’d be wide awake again.
Poor Charlie was inconsolable. As soon as Mr. Pearson had left them, Danny ordered Charlie to transform into a sheepdog. Even then, he couldn’t stop crying, but at least his tears weren’t now threatening to cause a flood as they’d been doing earlier. Walking home to the compound, Danny tried to make light of the matter, telling Charlie over and over again that everything was fine, and that his high jinks had only been a bit of harmless fun. He reminded him of how well behaved he’d been when giving Mr. Pearson his exhilarating flight in repayment for - -, well, for - -.
Of course, Danny’s hesitation in completing what he was saying only made Charlie worse. It was lucky they hadn’t far to go. If anyone saw them they’d have wondered what on earth was going on.
A sheepdog trudging along beside Danny crying its eyes out as though its heart was broken, with Danny earnestly talking to it in comforting tones. Some people might have found it a bit odd.
Odd or not, it was another while before Charlie’s weeping subsided into a more or less subdued sniffling. This disappeared altogether after they’d let themselves into the shack and Danny, after phoning the Superintendent regarding Mr. Pearson, had spent ten minutes patting and hugging Charlie affectionately. And when Danny let him curl up at the end of his bed, Charlie knew for certain that all was forgiven.
*
When Danny woke up, dawn had broken. He’d finally dropped off after enduring some more terrifying flashbacks. Charlie was still asleep. Danny eased himself out of bed without disturbing him. When he’d washed and dressed, he had his breakfast, before heading out to feed the stray animals he’d rescued over the course of time. There was grain, lettuce, chopped-up vegetables and fresh water to be provided and, of course, heads to be patted, ears to be tickled, conversations to be engaged in.
It was a labour of love for Danny, and made him forget all about the close shave he’d had the previous night. This morning he discovered there were a couple of disputes to be settled. Danny was only too glad to be called upon to act as mediator in both, having done so in the past on numerous occasions. Animals, like humans, often bickered amongst themselves about one thing and another.
Apparently, there’d been a debating competition arranged to take place in a few days time. The usual selection process had been agreed on, and a vote made to elect the most suitable speakers. The rabbits had elected their two representatives by secret ballot. Snowy and Cynthia had won the contest by a mile.
They’d received five votes apiece, with only one vote being recorded for Snuffles the Swot. Snuffles was anything but pleased at the outcome. Danny was told that he’d been lobbying intensively prior to the selection process, and had been quite confident his name would have been chewed several times into the oak leaves which were used as ballot papers.
Now, he was slinking about the rabbit enclosure, muttering darkly under his breath of gerrymandering, and other less than honest methods being employed to undermine his chances. Everyone, he finally declared for all to hear, was fully aware that he was by far the most skilled debater in the entire compound.
Snowy, who was somewhat soft-hearted, had immediately declared that he’d step down and allow Snuffles take his place if the general consensus was that he was an inferior speaker to Snuffles. Snuffles said that was an excellent idea, and he’d no doubt both himself and Cynthia would soon have the lambs and puppy dogs tied up in knots with their eloquence and logic.
Cynthia wouldn’t hear of it. Snowy, she exclaimed rather shrilly, had been chosen fair and square, despite Snuffles unfounded insinuations. Why, it had been a veritable landslide in favour of Snowy and herself, and both of them were quite capable of confounding the opposition every bit as well as Snuffles presumed he could. But Snuffles wouldn’t let it go. He called for a recount. Which was really ridiculous, seeing as he’d only received a single vote.
Danny, after listening patiently to the details, agreed to Snuffles suggestion that he should personally check the leaves again. Snuffles specifically requested him to examine each vote carefully to see if any had been cast by the same individual more than once. Shocked as the remainder of his companions were at such an outlandish allegation, each and every one of them declared that they couldn’t wait for Danny to verify the honesty of the election.
When he did, Snuffles still wasn’t satisfied. Something, he muttered into his whiskers, wasn’t as it should be. Danny called for an open show of paws to settle the matter once and for all. When the same outcome as the secret ballot resulted, Snuffles disappeared into his hutch in a sulk, where he continued to mutter his doubts in seclusion for the next couple of hours.
Then there was the puppy dogs’ grievance to be sorted out. They objected strongly to the motion which had been put forward for the debate. They considered it offensive and insulting, and declared that the chair-animal of the adjudicating panel should be ashamed of herself for even giving it consideration in the first place.
The individual referred to was, of course, none other than Edwina the ewe, whom Danny had rescued when she was no more than two weeks old after she’d been left all alone in the world, after her Mother was chased to the point of exhaustion by a swarm of short-sighted honey bees who mistook her for their hive. When they realised their mistake and took after one of Mrs. Vixen’s cubs instead, poor Edwina’s Mother had been so traumatised by the experience, she never really got over it. She was now a permanent resident of a Nursing Home specialising in caring for worried sheep. To this day, the very mention of a honey bee was likely to result in her legs buckling under her of their own accord.
One would have thought that Edwina, given the circumstances of her Mother’s unfortunate experience, would have been of a more sensitive nature than she was. It had never even occurred to her that putting forward the motion for debate to be what little boys and girls were made of would be regarded as an insult to the puppy dogs.
Edwina claimed that it had merely been he
r intention to produce something interesting for those listening to the opposing views. Of course, it was obvious she hadn’t thought the matter through with any degree of clarity. Sugar and spice and all things nice popped into her head and she thought it sounded lovely. That the puppy dogs should take umbrage that their tails be included with slugs and snails for the opposing teams to have a field day with never even entered her head.
Of course, Danny was very diplomatic about the issue. He knew all the traits and idiosyncrasies of every one of his animals. And loved them all equally, whatever little quirks of character they displayed on occasions. He was quite off-hand about the matter at the beginning, and asked Edwina if she’d be kind enough to accompany him on his rounds as he saw to the needs of the remaining enclosures. He deliberately waited to ask her after he’d seen to the puppy dogs himself. Edwina was delighted. Danny balanced a cardboard box of foodstuffs on her back, and asked her if she could manage to tote it along for him, as he was finding it a bit much to carry as well as the pail of spring water.
‘Don’t worry, Danny,’ she assured him, all but preening with pleasure on being called upon to assist. ‘Just settle it snugly into my fleece and I’ll be fine.’
When they’d finished their rounds, Danny deliberately led her out of earshot of the other animals. ‘Thanks very much, Edwina,’ he said. ‘That was a great help.’
‘Oh, don’t mention it, Danny. Any time you need me, just ask .’
‘That’s very kind of you, Edwina.’ Danny replied, ‘You’re very obliging.’
‘I like to think so, Danny, though it seems not everyone around here is of the same opinion. Some of them have been casting aspersions on my judgement, if you don’t mind.’
‘Never!’ Danny gasped, pretending shock. ‘I don’t believe it! Surely not on a sheep of your sensitivity?’
‘Can you believe it?’ Edwina retorted indignantly, though at the same time swelling with pride at the compliment. ‘Some of them have even implied that I’ve deliberately insulted them!’
‘I suppose it’s hard to please everyone,’ Danny said casually, noting that the inhabitants of both the rabbit and puppy dog enclosures, even though out of earshot, were pressed up against the wire mesh, as they endeavoured to hear the contents of the conversation. ‘But I imagine trying to keep them all happy is what good leadership’s all about. I’m sure you’ll come up with the right solution to leave them in no doubt you’d never any intention of insulting anybody.’
Edwina eyes went all dewy-eyed at this further praise being bestowed on her. It was all becoming too much for her. ‘Perhaps you’re right Danny,’ she said with all the modestly she could muster. ‘It’s anything but easy convincing those puppy dogs their tails had been the furthest things from my mind when I picked the subject for the debate.’
‘If I were you, Edwina, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of having anything more to grumble about. They’ll be ashamed they opened their mouths in the first place if you announce you’ve simply changed your mind and decided to alter the motion altogether.’
‘What a wonderful idea!’ Edwina exclaimed. ‘That will soon put them in their places! I wouldn’t at all be surprised if they voted on making a public apology to me for daring to doubt my integrity in the first place.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that part of it, Edwina,’ Danny said, thinking to himself that she might be waiting a long time before an apology arrived. ‘The important thing is to show them you’re big enough to change your decision. The whole compound will respect you for it, even if they may not say so to your face.’ Danny then brought a little further diplomacy into play. ‘Even if they don’t say it openly, they’re sure to be thinking in those terms. If I were you, I’d just casually mention that you’d thought of a much better subject for them to debate.’ He paused for a few seconds, biting the inside of his lip, giving a very good impression of someone racking their brains to come up with something suitable. ‘If I was a member of the audience, I’d simply love to hear the teams debate the motion as to whether or not it would be a good idea that seagulls be compelled to take a good hot shower every time they’d paid a scavenging visit to the town’s rubbish dump.’
‘You know, I’ve often thought the very same thing myself,’ Edwina declared. ‘Personally, I think it should be compulsory. After all, hygiene is extremely important. I know some of them do shower voluntarily after each foray they make, but there are others who are not quite so civic-minded.’ She did a little four-hoofed jig of excitement at the thought. ‘This could set a precedent, Danny. Once word spreads, the Animal Council could very well pass a law to that effect. It’s something that really should be discussed in depth.’
‘There you go, Edwina. You could become famous yet. I think that’s a very good idea you’ve come up with.’
‘It is, isn’t it,’ Edwina agreed. ‘I’m so glad I thought of it.’
Indeed, Danny said to himself, as he watched her strut towards the enclosures to reveal her change of plans on the subject of the debate, I’m sure the puppy dogs will be glad too.
When he returned to the shack to wake Charlie, Danny was surprised to see a circular piece of paper with a drawing of a dartboard on it pinned to the front door. He wondered how long it had been there. Had he missed seeing it on his way to feed the animals? How important was it, and had it been there all night? Danny hoped he hadn’t lost valuable time already by not noticing it earlier. It was held fast by a goose-feather dart in the exact centre of the red-crayoned bull’s-eye, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who had decided on this unique way of sending him a message. At the very bottom was scrawled in large black letters the request to: P.T.O.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Matthew Dawson heard the key to the bedroom door turning. He was sitting in an armchair, reading War and Peace. He had his back to the door, and deliberately chose to ignore whoever was entering. He continued to keep his gaze fixed firmly on the pages, having made up his mind he wasn’t going to give these people the time of day if at all possible. His suspicions that he was being held for ransom had been neither denied nor confirmed when he’d first tried to pry some information from some of them. That was before he discovered he was wasting his breath.
Now, he wasn’t even going to ask whoever it was who’d just come in what it was had been responsible all that howling outside the house earlier. He’d heard it at more or less the same time as he’d heard the noise of the helicopter. It had stopped just as abruptly as it had started. It had sounded like a pack of starving wolves, but Matthew knew that that was impossible. So he wasn’t even going to give them the satisfaction of pretending that he’d heard anything at all. Then a dark shadow refected from the light of the reading-lamp beside his armchair fell on the pages of his book. Still, Matthew didn’t turn his head or acknowledge the person’s presence.
‘Ah, Tolstoy!’ a refined voice intoned behind his back. ‘An excellent choice. Something to stir the imagination and stimulate the intellect. I read it myself when I was four years old.’
Matthew was surprised rather than startled at the cultured accent. It was the first time he’d heard such an educated, well-bred voice since he’d been abducted.
And when Myles Moran moved around the armchair to stand in full view before him, Matthew saw a distinguished looking, immaculately attired man smiling down at him.
Everything about the man spoke of elegance and assurance. He was tall and handsome, with a full head of perfectly groomed silver hair. His teeth were white and straight, his eyes warm and welcoming. It was difficult to discern his age, but Matthew guessed the man to be in his late forties. In his presence, for all Matthew’s experience in dealing with people throughout his career, it wasn’t easy to keep up the pretence of being unimpressed.
‘I trust everything is to your satisfaction, Mr. Dawson?’ Myles asked, still smiling. ‘And that you’re finding your stay with us a pleasant one?’
‘Now look here!’ Matthew bristl
ed, ‘I demand to know exactly what’s going on! Nobody will answer anything I ask them!’
‘All in good time, Mr. Dawson, all in good time. Rest assured the reason for your visit to us will be revealed in due course. I’ve issued instructions that you were on no account to be discommoded by any piffling details which were being enacted outside the confines of this room.’ He waved a manicured hand in a graceful gesture in the direction of a second armchair. ‘May I sit down?’
‘By all means do!’ Matthew shot back sarcastically. ‘I don’t see that there’s anything to prevent you.’
‘Please don’t distress yourself, Mr. Dawson,’ Myles replied, as he seated himself opposite Matthew. ‘Life’s too short for petty irritations, don’t you think?’
‘If this is what you deem to be a petty irritation, there’s something seriously the matter with you!’ Matthew replied angrily. ‘If you can define abducting someone and holding them against their will in such terms, I feel sorry for you, whoever you are! It’s nothing short of a cruel and callous criminal act, and well you know it!’
‘Please, Mr. Dawson, I beg you not to excite yourself in this manner.’ Myles responded calmly to the outburst. ‘Remember your medical condition. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you whilst you are my guest.’
‘I’m not your guest! I’m your prisoner!’
‘Let’s not fall into exaggeration here, Mr. Dawson. You’re surely not telling me this short inconvenience you’re enduring is in any way akin to being in prison? Have you not been accorded every courtesy and consideration your esteemed position entitles you to? Has anyone mistreated you? Been deliberately rude? Not immediately attended to your needs as they arose? If any of my employees has been anything other than respectful, Mr. Dawson, please let me know. I’ll deal with them personally, and you can rest assured they’ll be severely reprimanded for disobeying my orders.’
‘It’s you I’d like to deal severely with!’ Matthew retorted heatedly. ‘The least you might do is have the decency to tell me why I’m here!’
