Somebody's Doodle

by Nikki Attree

  Annie has that sinking feeling - the one she gets when dealing with a difficult client. This time she’s not just out of her depth, but well underwater. She decides to seize the initiative before she sinks any further: "Elizabeth, with respect, you came to see me because you want me to find your dogs, right?”

  Elizabeth shrugs. “Well yes, obviously. I came to see if you could suggest any lines of inquiry that the police might not be aware of.”

  “You shouldn’t expect the police to do much. My brother is an inspector in the Met, and I know how little time they can allocate to searching for missing animals. Even as high a profile case as yours. Trust me, I’m speaking from bitter experience. That’s why my clients come to me, and I’m proud of my ninety percent success rate. Shall I go on ...?”

  A pause. Elizabeth shrugs, and then nods.

  “Right, well I certainly don't want to waste my time, or yours, so before we go any further I need you to agree to cooperate fully with me, and above all to trust me. Is that clear?”

  Elizabeth shrugs, but she doesn’t nod.

  “Look you’ve seen the testimonials on my website. I can assure you that they’re all genuine, and I can put you in touch with any number of satisfied clients as references who will vouch for my character. So, do you want to proceed? Do you want me to take the case?”

  Elizabeth shrugs, and this time she nods.

  “So, when’s a convenient time for me to come to the studio to interview your staff?”

  Elizabeth shrugs. “Umm, I’ll have to get back to you ...”

  This time it’s Annie who interrupts: “fine, now we’re getting somewhere. So please do that OK? I’ll also need to speak to any members of your family who live with you, and to Gizmo's owner of course. Got that?”

  This time Elizabeth doesn’t shrug. She glares at Annie angrily. No-one speaks to her like that. Well, hardly anyone. Her boss maybe. An A-list celebrity actor, occasionally. Certainly not a nerdy new-age nobody, in a children's cartoon office!

  However ... she thinks of her daughter, hysterical with grief; Gizmo’s owner, Nikki, threatening her (“If you don’t get him back, I promise you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!”); the half finished film; the studio and crew on hold; her boss; her job ... The stakes are high. She needs this ‘Dreadlocks Detective’ woman.

  She takes a deep breath: “yes I’ve got that” she says icily. “Family members? Well, my teenage daughter: Miranda lives with me. She’ll probably enjoy talking to you actually. Gizmo's owner: Nikki lives in Tenerife. I’ll give you her contact details, and I’ll get my PA to ring you to arrange a meeting, and to give you any other information you need.”

  "Thank you" Annie says politely, with a sigh. “Like getting blood out of a stone and fleas out of Dougal’s fur - simultaneously” she thinks to herself. “Just one last thing: how did you receive the ransom note?”

  “At my house, through my letterbox" Elizabeth says, testily.

  “Hmm, so it was delivered by hand. Interesting” Annie says, as the cogs whir in her detective’s brain. “If you receive any more notes I’d like you to show them to me please, and remember: keep me in the loop.”

  “Yes, I will. Now, I really must get back to the office.” Elizabeth gets to her feet, and after checking that her path is clear of random animals and other detritus, heads for the door.

  “Hang on. Don’t you want to know what my fees are?”

  Elizabeth shrugs. “Not really, I haven’t got time. Look, how about I pay you five hundred pounds a day, plus expenses? That seems to be the going rate for private investigators. E-mail an invoice to my PA every few days. I suppose you’ll want some cash now?"

  Annie smiles and nods. She was going to ask for two seventy per day. Elizabeth opens her wallet. "Here's three hundred. Now I really must be going."

  She strides out of the office, and heads for the stairs. There’s a squeak, and a muffled curse as she trips over Dougal, who’s been sitting on the landing listening to their conversation, and wondering when he was next due for a carrot.

  * * *

  As soon as Elizabeth has left, Annie gets to work. She starts by researching her new client. She reads Elizabeth’s impressive CV on the Cutting Edge Films website, and then finds the interview that she did for the Sunday Times magazine’s ‘Celebrity Pets’ page. Elizabeth tells the readers how she and her daughter are bonding with Doodle, the ‘new member’ of their ‘little family’, and the copy gushes that such a gorgeous ‘designer dog’ is perfectly suited to Elizabeth’s ‘high profile lifestyle’.

  Annie’s internet search then lists the various press releases and articles about Cutting Edge Films’ current project: ‘Nobody’s Poodle’, starring Doodle and, she presumes, Gizmo. Reading them brings her up to speed with the dogs’ roles, the Tenerife connection, and Elizabeth’s ambitions for the movie. The producer tells ‘Movie Monthly’ that: ‘as the owner of a lovable pooch herself, she understood the massive appeal of a great dog movie.’

  The most recent listing is a Youtube video of Elizabeth’s breakfast TV interview. Annie plays it, and there she is: telling the presenter how much she and her daughter love their dog, and how devastated they are to lose her. Then the producer rapidly moves on to talk about the film, and how the dognapping has disrupted their schedule. Finally she appeals to the public to tell all their friends about the missing dogs and about the film, and she mentions the reward for ‘any information that leads to their return, and helps us to finish this amazing project.’

  Annie feels quite flattered that a media celebrity has chosen her to track down their dog, but she is left with the distinct impression that Elizabeth is more worried about the film than she is about Doodle or Gizmo. In the TV interview she did initially appear to be upset about their welfare, but then used the rest of the broadcast to promote her movie. Just now, in their meeting, she didn’t really display the kind of grief and anxiety that Annie’s clients usually show when they talk about their missing pets.

  “Anyway, ‘there’s nowt as queer as folk’ as they say, and she is paying me well to look for them” she thinks to herself. “So we’ll do our best to find them, eh Dougal?” she says, out loud. The rabbit looks at her quizzically, and wonders if it’s carrot-time yet.

  The detective’s next thought is to search the social networking sites for clues. Elizabeth doesn’t seem to have time for Facebook or Twitter, but her daughter, Miranda, definitely does. Her privacy settings are switched off, so Annie is able to see her posts, and they make for heartbreaking reading. Her mother may not display much emotion, but Miranda writes that she’s been awake, crying, every night since Doodle went missing, and now she’s mortified that she didn’t spend more time with her furry friend.

  She also seems willing to share her thoughts about her mother and it’s quite an insight into their relationship, or rather, lack of one. She writes that her mother just doesn’t seem to care about Doodle, only about her work, so Miranda has taken things into her own hands and started a community Facebook page called: ‘Doodle and Gizmo - Dognapped!’

  Annie’s next move is to log on to Twitter as Sparkle @sparklegirl. Her avatar is her cat, and she finds that it helps to have a feline profile. Posting as a cat gives her an undercover alias in the animal world, and as we know, cats make nearly as good sleuths as pink panthers. Sparkle slinks around the dog tweets, and soon discovers a couple of trending topics. Miranda has started #dognapped:

  Miranda @Doodle&Gizmo

  Please any1 if u have any info about Doodle & Gizmo message me. Missing my furry friend so much! #dognapped

  “Well, she certainly cares about her dog, even if her mum doesn’t seem too bothered” Annie thinks to herself. Sniffing around the internet she soon comes across another dog lover desperately searching for their missing pooch. Gizmo himself (or rather his owner, Nikki) is very active on Facebook and Twitter, with a lot of friends and followers, most of whom also post as dogs6 ...

  Gizmo @wooftasticbooks


  We need your help! I’ve been #dognapped ! Please trend me #FindGizmo&Doodle

  Oscar the Dog @Oscarthedog_ARM

  Urgent! Bad News. Our mate Gizmo & his pal Doodle have been #dognapped

  Toby @tobydog2015

  Yep noticed Gizmo hasn't been tweeting for a while.

  Marley Charms @MarleyCharms

  Keeping paws crossed that our pals are found soon

  Little Josh @LJ doodle

  Oh No! He’s my hero. Nobody’s Poodle is wooftastic. Missing him already.

  Oscar the Dog @Oscarthedog_ARM

  Someone must know where they are?

  Soon Twitter is buzzing with ‘dogs’ expressing their concern, and urging their owners to stay vigilant. Annie stirs things up further by jumping into this online canine community, posing as a cat, and appealing to her fellow felines to put aside their differences:

  Sparkle @sparklegirl

  Come on all you pussies. Forget Tom & Jerry. Go find Gizmo.

  She continues stirring the online cat-dog rivalry for a while, and eventually attracts the attentions of another virtual pooch who seems to enjoy a bit of cyber-banter. His avatar is a gorgeous Labradoodle stretched out on a sofa, and his username is ScruffyLad:

  Sparkle @sparklegirl

  u are cute - for a dog. How old are u @ScruffyLad ?

  ScruffyLad @ScruffyLad

  I’m 4. I like snoozing, sausages, and chasing cats!

  “Well this is fun, but I can’t spend all day playing ‘Tom and Jerry’ on Twitter” she thinks to herself. “There’s work to do and dogs to find.” She signs off with a friendly farewell:

  Sparkle @sparklegirl

  LOL u chased me out of here. See u L8R x

  She e-mails Elizabeth thanking her for using ‘Happy Tails’, reminding her of the information that she needs, and outlining her strategy for the investigation. Then she looks up Wags dog hotel (giggling at the ‘Hilton for Hounds’ slogan) and contacts the manager / executive client liaison: Mr Charmley-Walker, telling him that she will be visiting Wags soon to pursue investigations on behalf of her client.

  12 THE RANSOM NOTE COPYWRITER

  When we last heard from the dognappers they had negotiated a deal with Pauline to deliver the ransom notes, and were implementing Jack’s ‘Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder’ strategy (or as he calls it: “AMHGF”), by leaving Elizabeth to stew after receiving the first note.

  Nothing much has happened since then. Jack continues to care for the dogs, and Harry grows ever more impatient. The dogs settle into their new routine, and are quite happy with it.

  After their somewhat difficult date in the ‘Bucket of Blood’ things have cooled slightly between Jack and Annie. The Lad is experimenting by trying the AMHGF strategy with her as well, but he’s not sure that it’s working. There have been a couple of weeks of absence, and he’s waiting for evidence of a fonder heart, or any kind of communication from her in fact. As we know, Annie has been quite busy.

  It’s time to implement phase two of the hostage strategy. They need to contact Elizabeth again, shake her up emotionally, and give her the details of where she’s got to drop the ransom money. Jack sits down at his laptop to write the next note.

  After all his research he knows a fair bit about Elizabeth, and he decides to start by combining a threatening reference to her daughter with some emotional blackmail:

  Elizabeth - You and Miranda (see, we know all about your brat) must be missing Doodle and Gizmo by now.

  “Yes, that’s a good start” he thinks. “The first sentence on a blank page is always the most difficult. So, what next ...?” After the threat to her personal life perhaps threaten the professional? Remind her that we hold the keys to her project’s success or failure. He types the next couple of lines:

  And what about the film? You can kiss goodbye to it.

  UNLESS WE GET THE MONEY

  It’s not going to happen if the stars are lying in a ditch.

  WHICH IS WHERE THEY’LL BE UNLESS WE GET £200,000.

  “Not bad, if I say so myself” he thinks. “Direct and to the point. Lays it on the line and doesn’t beat about the bush. When all this is over perhaps I can have a secondary career as a freelance ransom note copywriter.” He grins.

  Now to the nitty-gritty details. Those familiar cogs whir for a moment, as he thinks through the logistics until he’s got it sussed:

  Put the money in a plain brown envelope, inside a white plastic bag, and leave it in the rubbish bin on the Heath closest to your house.

  And to round it off, a final generalised threat to induce some urgency:

  DO IT TONIGHT ... OR THE DOGS WILL SUFFER

  Don’t contact the police, or you’ll never see the dogs again.

  “Yep, that should do the trick” he thinks, pleased with his copy.

  Jack shows the new note to his partner. To be honest he doesn’t know why he bothers. Harry has as little appreciation of the thought that goes into a piece of text like that as he has of the rest of the plan. “Luckily he doesn’t need to understand how it all meshes together” he thinks, “as long as he doesn’t screw it up.” He decides to keep all further communication with his partner on a need-to-know basis.

  Harry calls his ma, and tells her that it’s time to earn some more dosh. They drive to Pauline’s house and give her the second envelope, making sure that: 1 - she doesn’t open it this time; 2 - it doesn’t disappear for ever into the black hole that is her bag; and 3 - she isn’t going to delay the delivery for another night of binge drinking. They stay there while she reluctantly puts the granny gear on, and then they drop her a few streets away from Hampstead Heath.

  Pauline slinks up to the house, looking around furtively. She has the feeling that she’s being watched, but there’s no-one in sight and the curtains in the house are all closed. She reaches into her pocket and quickly shoves the envelope into the postbox, before scurrying away at a pace more suited to a power-walker than a granny. She gets the bus back home, puts her feet up with a well earned cup of tea, and congratulates herself on another easy grand.

  * * *

  Elizabeth opens the envelope and reads the dognappers’ second ransom note. She’s better prepared this time, but still shocked by what she reads. The reference to Miranda sends a shiver through her. It’s one thing stealing her dogs, but threatening her daughter is taking it to another level. “This is getting personal” she thinks, feeling her rage rise. “These people are evil, and they must be stopped.”

  The rest of the note affects her less intensely. Of course it’s upsetting to imagine Doodle and Gizmo lying in a ditch, but she’s nowhere near “kissing goodbye to the film”. In fact it’s entirely possible that if the delay to the filming doesn’t drag on for too long, then the publicity value of the dognapping might well go a long way towards compensating them for their losses. As a guesstimate she reckons that they can sustain about one more week without the canine stars, as long as she can milk the story for all it’s worth.

  So far she’s managed to keep them in the news while heeding Annie’s advice to stay vague about the specifics, but she’s not sure how much mileage she can get out it without revealing more juicy details. In the meantime she must reply to the dognappers’ demands, but how?

  She reviews her options: 1 - try and raise the money to pay the ransom; 2 - go back to the police, tell them everything, refuse to give the dognappers a penny, and risk them carrying out their threats; or 3 - do as Annie suggested: use delaying tactics and stall, to give the pet detective time to find the dogs.

  She needs to take into account how these options impact on the cost-time analysis, and her guesstimate. She also has a moral dilemma: how much more suffering can her daughter take? Not to mention the dogs themselves.

  After several hours pondering these weighty issues, she picks up a pen and writes her reply, opting to handwrite it because for her it’s personal. She puts it in a brown envelope, finds a white plastic bag, and later that evening deposit
s it in the nearest waste bin on the Heath.

  * * *

  Jack is there when Elizabeth puts the plastic bag in the bin. He’s been there all evening, watching from a distance. He chose the location carefully: the bin is well lit from a lamp post, while he can hide in the bushes, in darkness.

  He experiences a heady progression of emotions when he sees her: initially, relief that he can finally get out of the freezing drizzle that’s been falling for the past few hours; followed by elation that she’s actually done what they demanded; and finally excitement, exhilaration, ecstasy as it dawns on him that weeks of meticulous planning are about to come to fruition!

  His pulse is racing as he picks up the bag, opens it, finds the plain brown envelope, tears it open ...

  Even as he’s doing it he already knows that the plan hasn’t come to fruition. Even as relief turns to disappointment, elation to misery, ecstasy to despair, he is laughing grimly at his own naivety. He knows already that the envelope doesn’t contain cash. How could it? That much money could never fit in a single envelope.

  When he discovers her note, rather than bank notes, he’s already adjusted his expectations. After he’s read it he has to adjust them some more. It looks like they are in for a long haul. While Elizabeth stalls for time, they must play a waiting game. He puts the note in his pocket and decides not to show it to Harry.

  When he gets home he tells his partner the bad news: he might have to wait a little longer before he can buy that new shag-wagon. As expected Harry goes ballistic, threatening to carve up the dogs, deliver the pieces to Elizabeth personally, grab her daughter, maybe even send in a hit man. Jack lets him blow off steam for a few minutes, before he plays his joker: “you’re absolutely right, mate.”