Atticus Claw Lends a Paw

by Jennifer Gray

‘Yes, sir,’ Inspector Cheddar said. ‘Knitting crime is no joke.’

  ‘He’s not talking about that, Cheddar!’ the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth roared. ‘The knitting’s just a cover-up.’

  Inspector Cheddar giggled. ‘Good one, sir!’

  ‘Are you all right, Cheddar?’ the Police Commissioner frowned.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Inspector Cheddar coughed. Being in the company of the Police Commissioner always seemed to make him nervous.

  ‘We had a call from Agent Whelk,’ the Commissioner told him. ‘Known to you as Mrs Edna Tucker. She explained about Howard Toffly and the book he stole when he was in Egypt.’

  Inspector Cheddar guffawed. ‘I suppose she also told you that Atticus is descended from the cat pharaoh and that it’s his destiny to protect the lost city of Nebu-Mau from being discovered by the Tofflys?’

  ‘Something like that.’ The Commissioner nodded seriously. ‘Agent Whelk and your family had a meeting today at the British Museum with Professor Verry-Clever at which Atticus was present. The Professor confirmed that the book is genuine. It seems that Atticus is a descendant of the cat pharaoh, Cattypuss the Great. Only Atticus can lead an expedition to find the lost city. He alone can defeat the curse.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Inspector Cheddar laughed.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ the Police Commissioner looked astonished.

  Inspector Cheddar saw he had made a mistake. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he said quickly, ‘I didn’t mean shut up as in “be quiet”, I meant shut up as in “no way”. Are you sure?’

  ‘Oh, I see … well … yes way,’ the Police Commissioner replied. ‘It’s true. The problem is we aren’t the only people who know about the book. Our old enemies Klob, Biscuit and the magpies are back. They’ve teamed up with the Tofflys. We think they’re behind the knitting crimes. It was just a diversion to put the police off the scent while they went after the book.’

  Inspector Cheddar looked sheepish. That was exactly what his family had told him. He really must remember to listen to them next time.

  ‘I knew it!’ the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth lied.

  ‘When we finally unpicked our way into the museum,’ the Police Commissioner said sombrely, ‘we found that Professor Verry-Clever had gone missing,’ the Commissioner went on. ‘So had the book. We think Klob and her gang must have followed Agent Whelk into the museum, kidnapped the Professor and taken the book. We think they’ll try and use the Professor to decipher the hieroglyphs. But from what Agent Whelk tells us, without Atticus they won’t be able to open the tomb. Or if they do, they’ll regret it. Fortunately they don’t know that. They’re probably on their way to Egypt already.’

  ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’ Inspector Cheddar asked. He wasn’t laughing now.

  ‘You’re going to Cairo, as planned,’ the Commissioner said, ‘with your family, Agent Whelk and her husband. And Atticus, of course. Your mission, together with Police Cat Sergeant Claw, is to find the lost city of Nebu-Mau, rescue Edmund Verry-Clever, recover the book, capture the villains and alert the Egyptian government to the whereabouts of the treasure.’

  ‘Without being cursed by the cat pharaoh,’ the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth added cheerfully.

  ‘Quite so. Think you can manage that, Cheddar?’ the Commissioner asked.

  ‘Leave it to me, sir!’ Inspector Cheddar said. ‘You can rest assured: nothing will go wrong while I’m in charge.’

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

  That night the magpies gathered in the garden at number 2 Blossom Crescent.

  Ginger Biscuit slouched in the shadows.

  ‘Claw’s basket’s by the fridge,’ Jimmy said. ‘I remember it from the last time we were here.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve got him a special pharaoh bed,’ Thug sighed. ‘Lucky thing! I wish I was related to royalty. I’ve always fancied being a magpie prince of Egypt.’

  ‘GGGRRRRRRRRR,’ Ginger Biscuit growled.

  ‘Someone’s in a bad mood!’ Thug nudged Slasher. Since their discovery at the British Museum that Atticus was related to Cattypuss the Great they’d found a brilliant new way to wind Biscuit up.

  ‘Imagine Claw being descended from a cat pharaoh,’ Slasher said loudly. He winked at Thug. ‘That makes him well posh.’

  ‘Yeah, fancy that!’ Thug cawed. ‘I wonder if he’s got any priceless headdresses tucked away.’

  ‘GGGRRRRRRR!’

  ‘Bound to have!’ Slasher agreed. ‘And some nice amulets too.’

  ‘What’s a hamulet?’ Thug asked.

  ‘It’s a type of old bracelet,’ Slasher explained. ‘The type that costs a lot of money.’

  ‘That makes him richer than you, Ginger, right?’ Thug hooted.

  ‘As well as posher,’ Slasher cawed.

  ‘SHUT IT!’ Ginger Biscuit leapt out of the shadows and swiped at them.

  The magpies fluttered away.

  ‘Temper, temper,’ Thug said.

  POP. POP. POP. POP. Biscuit popped out his claws and ripped at a sack of compost. Soil spilled from the slits. ‘I’ll kill Claw if it’s the last thing I do!’ he snarled.

  ‘Cool it! You can’t kill him yet. We need him. You heard what Klob said.’ Jimmy Magpie’s eyes glittered. ‘We’ve got a job to do. Get the sack.’

  Thug and Slasher heaved something out of the bushes.

  ‘You got the hairpin, Boss?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Jimmy unclipped a small cylinder from his leg. It contained one of Zenia’s hairpins, generously coated on the points with sleeping potion.

  ‘Let’s get him.’

  ‘I’ll join you in a minute,’ Biscuit snarled, ‘when I’ve killed a few rats. It’ll make me feel better.’

  ‘I’ll keep a look-out.’ Jimmy passed the poisoned hairpin to Slasher. He fluttered up into a tree.

  ‘Looks like we’re doing all the work as usual!’ Thug and Slasher hopped awkwardly through the cat flap with the sack. The house was pitch black and silent. Everyone was in bed. The two magpies peered at the basket.

  They could see the shape of a cat. It was sleeping peacefully.

  ‘Hurry up, Slash, before Claw wakes up.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Slasher held out the cylinder.

  Silently, Thug removed the hairpin with his beak.

  PRICK! He jabbed it at the cat’s flank.

  They heard a sigh, then deep rhythmic breathing.

  ‘He’s out like a light.’

  The magpies unravelled the sack. They wriggled it over the cat’s sleeping form.

  Ginger Biscuit appeared through the cat flap. He picked the sack up with a growl, threw it across his shoulder and sauntered back across the kitchen floor and out into the night.

  ‘Like taking worms from a baby robin!’ Thug whispered, once they were outside.

  ‘Hurry up,’ Jimmy ordered. ‘We don’t want to miss the plane.’

  The magpies flew off back to the caravan park.

  Biscuit padded on with the sack on his back.

  Zenia met him at the corner of Blossom Crescent. She was wearing her street-sweeper disguise. ‘Good vork, Biscuit! In a few hours’ time, ve vill be in Egypt. And a few days after that ve vill be rich!’ She put the sack in the squeaky dustcart.

  ‘GGGRRRRR!’ Biscuit threw a longing glance at the dustcart.

  ‘Don’t vorry, my cat-killing angel of darkness,’ Zenia said. ‘As soon as ve get the treasure, he’s all yours. I promise. You can make as much mess as you like. There’ll be plenty of sand vere ve’re going to mop up the blood.’

  Squeak … squeak … squeak!

  Atticus woke up with a start. It was a sound he’d recognise anywhere. Zenia?! She was on her way to Egypt, wasn’t she?

  Squeak … squeak … squeak!

  The sound came again.

  Atticus leapt off the sofa, trying to shake the sleep out of his eyes. Why had she come for him? His heart was pounding. She already had Professor Verry-Clever and the book. She didn’t know she needed him as well. Sud
denly Atticus felt wide awake. His green eyes glowed. OR DID SHE? With a start he remembered Cleopatra, the mummy at the museum. He’d thought he’d seen it move! And the sacrifice to Horus! Three birds. One of them looked a bit like Jimmy. He’d been so busy listening to Professor Verry-Clever, he hadn’t given them a second thought. Until now.

  Atticus’s mind was racing. Zenia could have disguised Jimmy, Thug and Slasher as the sacrifice and hidden herself in Cleopatra’s sarcophagus! And the sphinx! What if it was Biscuit? It could have been. It had the same mean face and pumped-up body. How could he have been so blind? If it was them, they would have heard everything that was said. Atticus had been so caught up in reading the hieroglyphs, he’d forgotten that Zenia Klob was a mistress of disguise.

  Squeak … squeak … squeak.

  Atticus stood behind the sitting-room door, his fur bristling. Biscuit wanted to kill him. Even Zenia might not be able to stop him this time. He pushed at the door tentatively with his paw. It moved freely. He would slam it in Ginger’s face and knock him out, then run upstairs and get Inspector Cheddar. Maybe, if he moved fast, they wouldn’t have to go to Egypt at all. They could capture Biscuit and Klob tonight.

  Squeak … squeak … squeak.

  Wait a minute! Atticus’s ears pricked up. The sound was getting quieter, not louder. Zenia was walking away.

  Very soon it disappeared altogether.

  Atticus wriggled his eyebrows. He couldn’t understand it. What was going on? Unless …

  ‘Mimi!’ he cried.

  He raced into the kitchen.

  ‘Mimi!’

  At the sight of the empty basket he stopped dead.

  ‘Oh no.’

  His ears drooped.

  ‘This is all my fault.’

  Atticus took a deep breath. His whiskers twitched. He flexed his claws. They wanted him: they’d get him. But not in the way they imagined. ‘I’ll rescue you, Mimi,’ he whispered. ‘No matter what.’

  Atticus was hot. He was tired, thirsty and his whiskers were full of sand. He was also feeling slightly sick. The camel swayed from side to side like a boat.

  ‘You all right, Atticus?’ Mrs Tucker sat behind him on the camel. She wore a white robe with a purple veil. She seemed completely at home. ‘Don’t worry. Most people feel a bit sick on a camel to start with. You’ll soon get used to it.’

  Atticus purred faintly.

  They were at the head of the procession, which consisted of a train of camels looping through the sand dunes into the heart of the desert. Behind them rode Callie and Michael, with Mrs Cheddar next to them. After them came Inspector Cheddar. Bringing up the rear was a very hot and cross Mr Tucker.

  Atticus heard a bump behind him followed by a loud cry.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Mrs Tucker sighed, ‘Herman’s fallen off his camel again.’

  The procession stopped.

  ‘For cod’s sake!’ Mr Tucker roared. ‘I can’t get the hang of ridin’ this thing. It’s as bumpy as a baaarrrge in a sea swell. Me wooden leg keeps slippin’.’

  ‘Stop complaining, Herman,’ Mrs Tucker shouted. ‘And hurry up and get back on. We’ll never catch Klob at this rate.’

  ‘I’s doin’ me best!’ Mr Tucker grumbled. ‘But I feel like a fish out of water. I miss the sea.’

  ‘Why don’t you pretend you’re at sea?’ Michael suggested. ‘The camel feels a bit like a boat anyway the way it rocks from side to side.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Mrs Tucker agreed. ‘Camels are nicknamed ships of the desert, you know. Just pretend it is one, Herman, and you’ll be fine.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you say so before!’ Mr Tucker said more cheerfully. The camel knelt down. Mr Tucker threw his wooden leg over the saddle and gripped on while the camel got jerkily to its feet. ‘I name this ship The Crafty Camel,’ he said giving the camel a slap on the backside. The camel cantered off. ‘I think I’s gettin’ me sea legs!’ Mr Tucker lurched to and fro across the sand.

  Michael and Callie both giggled.

  Another time Atticus would have thought it was funny too. But they were two days into the expedition and there was still no sign of Klob and her gang. Or, more importantly, of Mimi and Professor Verry-Clever.

  ‘Are you sure we’re going the right way?’ Mrs Cheddar asked anxiously. All the humans had to go on were Howard Toffly’s old maps from the library at Toffly Hall.

  ‘Well?’ Mrs Tucker looked at Atticus. ‘Are we?’ she said gently.

  Atticus purred as loudly as his parched throat would allow. Although he didn’t know exactly where they were going, he knew they were heading in the right direction. He could feel it in his fur.

  ‘How can he tell?’ Callie whispered in awe.

  ‘It’s his instinct,’ Mrs Tucker explained. ‘Because he’s a descendant of Cattypuss the Great, part of him remembers.’

  Atticus listened intently. That’s what Mimi had said. He supposed it must be true. He had never been to Egypt in his present life, although he’d travelled to many other countries around the world during his career as a cat burglar. But he had been here before. He could sense it.

  He wished Mimi were there so he could talk to her about it.

  Inspector Cheddar rode up. ‘This is the life!’ he said. ‘Adventure! Danger! The undiscovered world! I feel like a film star! And not a traffic cone in sight!’

  ‘There’s nothing glamorous about it,’ Mrs Tucker scolded. ‘It’s very dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s lucky for you I’m here.’

  Inspector Cheddar frowned. ‘I’m in charge of this expedition, Mrs Tucker. Not you. I think you’ll find I’m more than a match for Klob and those villains.’

  ‘I’m not talking about Klob,’ Mrs Tucker snorted. ‘She’s the least of our worries. I’m talking about the desert. You wouldn’t last five minutes out here on your own.’

  ‘Oh really!’ Inspector Cheddar bridled. ‘Wanna bet?’

  Mrs Tucker raised her eyebrows. She was about to say something rude when her camel farted loudly.

  Mr Tucker lumbered up. He sniffed. ‘Blimey! That stuff’s more powerful than shaarrrk faaarrrt. I’s goin’ to bottle it and take it home for me boat.’ He rummaged around for an old water bottle in his pack.

  ‘I’m thirsty,’ Michael complained.

  ‘Can we stop soon?’ Callie asked.

  ‘Yes, all right,’ Mrs Tucker agreed. It was approaching noon and they had been on the go since before dawn. They wanted to get as far as possible before the sun was at its hottest. ‘We’ll make camp over there by those rocks and rest until the sun goes down.’

  ‘I’ll take it from here,’ Inspector Cheddar said bossily, when they reached the rocks. He whipped out his notebook.

  ‘What’s that for?’ Mrs Tucker asked.

  ‘The Chief Inspector of Bigsworth asked me to file a report,’ Inspector Cheddar told her.

  Mrs Tucker snorted. ‘Of you making a fool of yourself.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Tucker.’ Inspector Cheddar glared at her. ‘You can stand down. I’ll take it from here.’

  ‘Darling, I don’t think that’s a good idea …’ Mrs Cheddar began.

  ‘Let him, if he thinks he can,’ Mrs Tucker said. Her camel lurched forward on to its elbows, then collapsed its back legs. Atticus waited for Mrs Tucker to get off, and jumped into her basket. He couldn’t walk on the sun-soaked sand. It gave him blisters on his paws. They waited in the shade with the rest of the group while Inspector Cheddar explored the rocks for the best place to shelter.

  ‘I used to be a boy scout.’ Inspector Cheddar’s voice floated over the rocks. ‘Don’t worry. You’re in safe hands.’

  ‘Here.’ Mrs Tucker poured Atticus some water into a bowl. The others drank thirstily from their bottles. ‘Don’t waste it,’ Mrs Tucker cautioned. ‘We need to make it last.’

  ‘I’ve found somewhere!’ Inspector Cheddar called.

  Making sure the camels were safely tethered out of the sun, Mrs Tucker led the others through
the rocks to join him. Atticus was still in the basket. ‘This’ll be good!’ she muttered.

  Inspector Cheddar was standing at the mouth of a cave scribbling in his notebook.

  ‘See?’ he said. ‘I told you I could lead the expedition. I’ve found us a nice shady cave to shelter in.’

  ‘Have you checked it?’ Mrs Tucker said, picking Atticus out and setting him down on some cool sand.

  ‘What for?’ Inspector Cheddar asked.

  ‘Scorpions, snakes, spiders,’ Mrs Tucker reeled off a list. ‘Bugs, bats, lizards, creepy-crawlies, beetles, mice, lice, flies, locusts, mites, centipedes, millipedes, trillipedes, zillipedes and sand fleas.’ She pulled on a pair of gloves.

  ‘Er …’ Inspector Cheddar said.

  SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  ‘What was that?’ Mrs Cheddar whispered.

  SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  The noise was coming from somewhere behind Inspector Cheddar. He gulped.

  ‘Freeze!’ Mrs Tucker hissed.

  Inspector Cheddar froze.

  SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  A large snake started to uncoil from a pile of stones at the cave entrance. Atticus growled. The snake was greyish brown on the top and a wormy pink underneath. It was perfectly camouflaged against the dusty stones. It advanced towards Inspector Cheddar, raised its head slowly and puffed out its hood.

  ‘It’s a cobra!’ Mr Tucker sucked his teeth. ‘I don’t rate your chances, matey. They’s worse than eels for biting. Deadly, cobras is.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘But don’t worry,’ he added brightly, ‘it’ll be over so quick youze won’t feel a thing.’

  SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  Callie started to cry. Mrs Cheddar went white. Michael trembled violently.

  ‘You’re not helping, Herman!’ Mrs Tucker scolded. ‘Unscrew your wooden leg.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Just do it!’ Mrs Tucker ordered.

  Mr Tucker sat down slowly and started unscrewing his leg.

  SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

  The cobra swayed towards Inspector Cheddar.

  Atticus swallowed. He had a bad feeling about what was coming next.