Atticus thought about this for a minute. ‘Did you notice anything odd about Lady Jemima today?’ he asked eventually. ‘Apart from wanting to borrow Inspector Cheddar’s sweaty bedsocks?’
‘She didn’t seem very pleased to see us,’ Mimi said. ‘And her face kept slipping.’
‘I noticed that too,’ said Atticus. ‘I didn’t really understand why,’ he admitted.
‘I think she’s had plastic surgery,’ Mimi told him. She saw Atticus’s puzzled look. ‘Some humans have filler injected in their faces so they don’t look wrinkly,’ she said. ‘The problem is, it needs topping up or it starts to sag, like Lady Jemima’s.’
‘Oh,’ said Atticus, feeling thankful he was a cat. His thoughts returned to the strange occurrences of the afternoon. ‘Was it just me, Mimi, or did you hear how Lady Jemima kept saying funny things and then correcting herself …’
Mimi nodded. ‘Yes, I did, now you come to mention it,’ she said.
‘I’m sure at one point she said it was time to get rid of us.’ Atticus scratched his chin.
‘What are you getting at?’ asked Mimi.
‘It was as if she was trying to hide something,’ said Atticus.
‘Like what?’
Atticus’s chewed ear drooped. That was the problem; he didn’t know. He’d been hoping Mimi would be able to supply the answer. He decided to try another approach. ‘Suppose Lady Jemima is broke,’ he said, thinking aloud, ‘wouldn’t the obvious thing be to go after the Roman gold?’
‘I guess so,’ said Mimi, ‘but what about the Dumpling family curse?’
‘Maybe she doesn’t believe in it? I mean, her dad didn’t, did he?’
‘But she does believe in it,’ said Mimi. ‘Debs said it was Lady Jemima’s idea to cancel the Hogmanay party. She said Lady Jemima was worried about the sightings of the Cat Sith.’
‘Then why didn’t she want Inspector Cheddar to give her round-the-clock police protection?’ argued Atticus. It was good to bounce ideas off Mimi. He felt like a detective in a film. Normally when he was out police-catting, Inspector Cheddar didn’t pay any attention to what he had to say, partly because he didn’t think Atticus was a very good detective and partly because he didn’t understand Cat. With Mimi it was different. She was a lot more intelligent than Inspector Cheddar and she listened and came up with good ideas. He thought they made a great team.
‘You think she’s just pretending to be scared?’ Mimi said.
Atticus nodded. ‘Could be,’ he said.
‘But why?’
‘So that no one suspects she’s after the treasure.’ A thought struck him. ‘What if Lady Jemima wants all the money for herself?’ he said. ‘I mean, she looked like she’d stood on a cactus when Inspector Cheddar said he was a Dumpling …’
‘That’s true,’ said Mimi thoughtfully.
‘Which is proof that she doesn’t want to share it. And she’s got expensive tastes. She wants to buy a Fur-rari and redevelop the castle – and buy extra-furm face filler.’ Atticus told Mimi about the shopping list and the documents in the desk.
‘Redevelop it!’ Mimi exclaimed. ‘Into what?’
‘I don’t know,’ Atticus admitted.
‘We’d better have a look at those photographs Callie took,’ Mimi said.
Atticus collected the wristwatch spy camera from where Callie had left it by the bed, pressed the switch on it, then clicked through the pictures until he reached the title page of the folder.
‘Zoom in,’ advised Mimi when she saw the pages of tiny writing that followed. ‘Aysha says you should always read the small print.’
Atticus zoomed in. The letters became legible.
So that was it! Atticus felt sick with disgust. Lady Jemima Dumpling was planning to do exactly what the legend of Biggnaherry said the wildcats had been trying to prevent for the last two thousand years: find the gold, destroy their habitat and drive them off the moor. And she wanted to do away with all the local Biggnaherry traditions like cheese throwing and the hairiest sporran competition. They had to stop her. But how?
Mimi seemed more interested in something else on the list. ‘She likes big cats,’ she said.
‘So what?’ said Atticus. The big cat zoo experience seemed to him the most acceptable part of the redevelopment plan.
‘Michael said what you saw on the moor looked like a panther.’ Mimi’s golden eyes regarded him steadily.
All of a sudden Atticus realised what she meant. Everything fitted. ‘Oh, Mimi, you are clever,’ he said. ‘The panther belongs to Lady Jemima, doesn’t it? She’s trained it to frighten people away from the moor by pretending it’s the Cat Sith! So that she can go after the treasure without anyone knowing and use the money to redevelop the moor into a bingo park!’
‘Precisely,’ said Mimi.
‘That’s why she was so cross when Mrs Cheddar offered to help organise the party,’ Atticus said. ‘She didn’t want the party to go ahead in the first place!’
Mimi giggled. ‘She’s not going to be very pleased when she finds out Mrs Cheddar’s putting buses on from Biggnaherry,’ she said mischievously.
Atticus turned off Callie’s spy camera to save the battery. ‘First thing tomorrow we’ll show everyone the redevelopment plans,’ he said. ‘Mrs Tucker will know what to do.’
Mimi settled down on her blanket.
‘Don and Debs will be really upset about all this,’ she commented. ‘They love the moor. It’s their home.’
‘I know how they feel,’ Atticus murmured, thinking about the beautiful landscape and the fresh zingy air.
‘You really like it here, don’t you?’ Mimi said.
‘Yes,’ said Atticus. Mimi waited for him to go on, but he didn’t say anything else. He couldn’t really explain how he felt about the moor or why he liked it so much or why it was so important to him to stop Lady Jemima from ruining it. He didn’t really understand it himself.
Mimi groomed her whiskers carefully. ‘What about Inspector Cheddar?’ she said, changing the subject. ‘Do you think he’ll believe us?’
‘I doubt it,’ Atticus said. ‘He’s besotted with Dumplings at the moment. He thinks Lady Jemima’s the best thing since tinned cat food.’
Mimi yawned. ‘Did you find anything else in the drawing room?’ she asked.
Atticus shook his head. ‘Only Inspector Cheddar’s notebook; you know – the one Callie and Michael gave him for Christmas. He left it on the table.’
‘No, he didn’t,’ Mimi said. ‘He had it in the jeep. He was making notes. You were in the other car with Debs but I definitely saw him with it.’
‘Well, what’s this, then?’ Atticus removed the small black book from his handkerchief.
‘It’s a diary,’ said Mimi, inspecting it carefully. She ran her paw along the spine. ‘Look at this.’
Two letters were initialled on the spine of the book:
SD
‘Stewart Dumpling,’ breathed Atticus. ‘It’s his diary.’
The two cats exchanged looks. They were both thinking the same thing. Maybe the diary could lead them to the treasure before Lady Jemima found it.
‘It can’t be that simple,’ Mimi said eventually, ‘or Lady Jemima would have got her hands on the gold by now. I mean, she must have read this.’
‘Well, then maybe it contains some clues which might help us.’ Atticus was yawning too. ‘Let’s show it to Callie and Michael in the morning with the rest of the evidence.’
‘Okay.’
Atticus closed his eyes. He could still hear Inspector Cheddar outside in the garden, grunting. Cheese throwing sounded like really hard work.
‘Don’t be long, darling.’ Mrs Cheddar’s voice floated through the window.
‘I won’t,’ Inspector Cheddar promised.
‘We’re all going to bed now. Will you lock up?’
‘Yes, I’ll just try a couple more throws. I’m beginning to get the hang of it.’
The sound of more grunting was followed by
the dull thud of cheese hitting the ground. ‘One metre fifty-five centimetres,’ Inspector Cheddar announced to no one in particular.
‘He’ll never beat Debs,’ Mimi murmured.
‘Or Mrs Tucker,’ Atticus agreed sleepily.
The two cats began to doze.
‘GRRRRRRRRR …’
‘Did you hear that?’ Atticus was wide awake at once.
‘Yes.’ Mimi jumped up on the window ledge. ‘It’s coming from the moor.’
Atticus leapt up beside her. The window was slightly ajar, to let fresh air into the room. It looked out on the back of the house, away from the road. Light from the kitchen window illuminated part of the garden.
‘Inspector Cheddar’s still out there!’ said Mimi.
The cats watched as the Inspector hefted a big round Cheddar cheese to beneath his chin with his right arm, crouched down, whipped round in a circle and thrust it forward as far as he could. The cheese sailed into the darkness.
‘He’s got better!’ Mimi said. ‘He’s thrown it right out on to the moor!’ Inspector Cheddar got out his torch.
‘Not bad,’ he said.
‘GRRRRRRRRR …’
The growling was coming from the direction of the cheese.
Atticus groaned. Inspector Cheddar was useless at everything else. Why did he have to turn out to be good at throwing cheese? It was just Atticus’s luck. Now he’d have to go and rescue him again, and from a panther this time!
Inspector Cheddar didn’t seem to have heard the growling. He paced out the distance of his throw. ‘One, two, three, four, five …’
‘GGRRRRRRRRR …’
Atticus had the same feeling he’d had at the station: his hackles rose. The panther was definitely out there.
‘Can you see anything?’ hissed Mimi.
Atticus scanned the moor. The weather was frosty and the mist thicker than ever. ‘No,’ he said. He remembered the way the panther had stalked Michael. Its coat was so dark it was almost impossible to see it until it was too late – like the Cat Sith. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m going to have a closer look.’
‘Be careful,’ said Mimi. ‘I’ll get Bones to wake up the Tuckers.’
The back of the house was covered by a thick creeper. Atticus lowered himself on to it and wriggled downwards through the branches. He landed on the soft earth of the flowerbed and crawled forwards.
‘Nine, ten, eleven, twelve …’ Inspector Cheddar was still pacing his way slowly in the direction of the moor, scanning the ground with the torch. ‘Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen … ha ha! There it is!’ Inspector Cheddar finally located the cheese. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t a world-record throw!’ He bent down to pick it up.
‘GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR …’
This time Inspector Cheddar did hear the noise. ‘What was that?’ He shone the torch around the edge of the moor.
Suddenly a huge bird plummeted from the sky. Atticus caught a glimpse of its blue-grey head and cruel, hooked blue-and-yellow beak before it pulled itself up in front of Inspector Cheddar and beat its white spotted wings at his face.
Peregrine!
‘Crumbs!’ Inspector Cheddar stepped backwards, startled.
The bird let out a rasping screech and snatched the torch from Inspector Cheddar’s grasp.
‘Give that back!’ said Inspector Cheddar. He stumbled after the bird.
Atticus watched in horror. Peregrine was leading Inspector Cheddar further on to the moor.
Atticus went after him, keeping low. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the movement of an animal in the dense scrub. It was crawling forward on its belly, like him. The panther! It had something in its mouth. Atticus strained his eyes. The object drooped from either side of the creature’s jaws, like a dead fish. But it wasn’t a dead fish. Atticus could see that now. It was Inspector Cheddar’s bedsock! So that’s why Lady Jemima had wanted it: so the panther would recognise Inspector Cheddar’s scent and chase him over the moor.
Inspector Cheddar was still running towards the torch.
‘Aaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!’ Inspector Cheddar caught his foot in a divot and pitched head first into the heather. He sat up, dazed.
‘GRRRRRRRRR …’ The panther dropped the sock. It circled the Inspector.
‘Go away! Shoo!’ Inspector Cheddar had seen the creature now. He tried to crawl away. The panther’s circles became smaller. It was closing in for the kill.
‘Help!’ Inspector Cheddar yelped, but his voice was weak with fear. His cries wouldn’t carry to the cottage. Atticus glanced back, hoping that someone would come anyway. There were lights on in two of the bedrooms; Atticus could see the grown-ups moving around. But they wouldn’t arrive in time. There was only one thing for it. He puffed himself up and sprang forwards into the circle beside Inspector Cheddar.
‘Atticus!’ Inspector Cheddar said. ‘About time!’ He pointed at the panther with a shaking finger. ‘Arrest that cat!’
Somehow, at that particular moment, walking up to the panther and asking it to accompany him to the local police station didn’t seem to Atticus to be a very sensible idea. Instead Atticus flattened his ears and bared his teeth. He hissed and he spat. But this time the creature didn’t blink. It came on, Peregrine screeching encouragement from somewhere above.
‘GRRRRRRRR …’
Then a different noise carried towards them on the wind.
‘Sheeeeeeeeeeee!’ Atticus’s ears pricked up.
‘Sheeeeeeeeeeee!’ It came again.
‘Sheeeeeeeeeeee!’ And again.
The panther stopped circling. Its eyes shifted from its prey. It stared hard at a point out on the moor to where a ridge of rocks stood. Very slowly, it began to back away. Then, in an instant, both it and Peregrine were gone.
‘Thank you, Atticus!’ Inspector Cheddar threw his arms around him. ‘You saved my life!’
Atticus wriggled out of his grasp. It was nice being thanked by Inspector Cheddar for once, but it wasn’t he who had saved his life. It was the other creature on the moor; the one by the rocks, the one that even Peregrine and the panther were afraid of.
A strong gust of wind ripped the mist into damp threads. Just for a moment, in the weak moonlight, Atticus had a clear view of the moor. Staring back at him from the rock was a female cat that looked very much like him. She was the same size and had beautiful markings and a sleek handsome face. Atticus knew he was looking at a Highland Tiger. He kept very still, unsure what he should do. Don had said the Tigers were wild – really wild; no human could tame them. Yet the wildcat had come to Inspector Cheddar’s aid. Or was it to his aid, he wondered. Maybe it had nothing to do with Inspector Cheddar; the wildcat was curious about him. It was looking him over carefully, taking in every inch from his chewed ear and red neckerchief to his four white paws. Atticus took a step forward. He felt strangely drawn to the cat, as he had to the moor when he first arrived at Biggnaherry. He wanted to find out who she was. The cat retreated.
‘Stay,’ he meowed. ‘I want to thank you.’ He took another step. The cat didn’t move. He took another, his heart pounding with excitement. He was going to meet a wildcat!
‘Darling, where are you?’ It was Mrs Cheddar.
‘Atticus!’ Mr Tucker’s voice floated over the moor.
Atticus glanced behind. The search party was coming towards them with more torches.
‘Over here!’ shouted Inspector Cheddar.
‘Sheeeeeeeeeeee!’
Atticus twisted round sharply.
‘Sheeeeeeeeeeee!’ The wildcat had seen the search party. With a whip of its tail it slunk behind the rock and was gone.
Atticus felt a tug round his tummy. Mr Tucker picked him up. The light of his torch fell on Inspector Cheddar’s bedsock. ‘Hang on a minute, what’s this stinker doing here?’ Mr Tucker exclaimed. ‘I’d best show Edna,’ he said, tucking it into his trousers. ‘Now let’s get you inside, Atticus, where it’s nice and cosy.’
Just for once Atticus
didn’t want to be nice and cosy. He wanted to be out on the moor and meet the mysterious wildcat who had saved his life. But he couldn’t very well explain that to Mr Tucker, not now humans couldn’t understand Cat any more. With a last look over his shoulder he allowed himself to be borne away back to the cottage.
Atticus slept in the next morning. He woke up to find Mimi tugging at his tail with her teeth.
‘The humans have worked it out,’ she said. ‘They’re about to make a plan. Hurry up!’
Downstairs in the kitchen Mrs Tucker was in her Hells Angels nightie and matching curlers, making mugs of hot chocolate with Bones. Don and Debs were playing a quick round of Heave the Haggis with Callie and Michael, Mr Tucker was smoking his fish pipe and Mrs Cheddar was ticking off lists on her clipboard.
Atticus gave Bones a wave. ‘Thanks for getting help last night,’ he meowed.
‘You’re welcome!’ Bones meowed back, adding marshmallows to the steaming drinks. ‘I had a job waking Mr Tucker – he’d put smokies in his ears so he didn’t have to listen to Mrs Tucker snoring.’
‘Where’s Inspector Cheddar?’ Atticus asked Mimi.
‘He’s hiding under Great-Uncle Archie’s electric blanket,’ Mimi said with a sigh. ‘They’re trading scary stories about cats.’
‘What?’ Atticus spluttered. ‘Why’s he doing that? He should be out arresting Lady Jemima for trying to kill him!’
‘He doesn’t believe the creature on the moor is a panther,’ Mimi said. ‘He thinks he had a near-death experience with the Cat Sith.’
‘He’s been listening to Great-Uncle Archie, unfortunately,’ Bones explained. ‘He’s told Inspector Cheddar the wildcats have found out he’s a Dumpling and sent the Cat Sith to warn him off the Roman gold.’
Atticus Claw On the Misty Moor Page 7
