Atticus Claw Lends a Paw
Page 10
Except that Cattypuss the Great looked like Atticus. Everybody said so: Professor Verry-Clever, Mimi, the Tofflys, the magpies, even Zenia! Professor Verry-Clever was the worst. He kept getting the names mixed up: Atticus/Cattypuss, Atticus/Cattypuss, Atticus/Cattypuss. In fact Professor Verry-Clever had got himself so mixed up he’d started talking about Atticus the Great when they entered the pyramid.
Biscuit couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stomach the idea that Atticus was the descendant of a cat pharaoh. He couldn’t bear having to hang around until Atticus opened Cattypuss’s tomb. It wasn’t fair. Atticus was a coward. He was a police cat, a traitor, a piece of cat scum. The idea that Atticus was superior to him made Ginger Biscuit want to puke.
Ginger Biscuit wasn’t just jealous. He was madly, vilely, bitterly, excruciatingly, insanely jealous. HE wanted to be a cat pharaoh. HE wanted to have a tomb full of treasure. HE wanted to have a boulevard of statues built in his honour. HE wanted his picture drawn on the wall of every building. He wanted people to bring HIM gifts. He dreamed of Professor Verry-Clever waiting on him with plates piled high with rats. He imagined sitting on a jewel-encrusted throne while the Tofflys plucked the magpies for him to nibble. He longed for Zenia to shower him with pike heads from her wheelie trolley. But what had he got instead? One measly beetle to crunch and fur full of cobwebs.
He stopped to wee on one of the two gigantic statues of Cattypuss the Great that guarded the pyramid, then slouched up the steps to the entrance behind Zenia into the first gloomy chamber.
‘Go and make sure Atticus’s girlfriend is tied up tight,’ Zenia ordered him. ‘And get those mangy magpies ready. I vant aerial bombardment as soon as Atticus opens the tomb. Lots of bird poo. Nice and smelly. The main target is Agent Velk and that stupid husband of hers. The Tofflys can deal with Mrs Cheesy and her repulsive kids. Go now, Biscuit. I’ll get the Professor.’
Biscuit cast her an angry look.
‘And don’t be so grumpy, my little tomb-trashing tomcat!’ Zenia added. ‘You’ll get vot you vant ven it’s over. I’ll even make you a cat pharaoh disguise if you like, out of the spare jewels.’
‘Mmmyyyaaawww.’ Biscuit didn’t want a cat pharaoh disguise. He wanted to BE a cat pharaoh. Just at that moment nothing less would do.
He sloped off into the pyramid. He and Zenia had already cased the joint with the magpies. Professor Verry-Clever had shown them the way to the tomb, lighting torches as they went so that they wouldn’t get lost. The tomb lay at the pyramid’s heart: right under the pointy bit – so that Cattypuss could have a straight path to eternal life, according to the Professor. Well, stuff Cattypuss and his eternal life! It was Biscuit’s turn to have a piece of the action. He eased his way along a labyrinth of passageways following the wall torches until he reached the antechamber to the tomb.
Mimi was tethered by the neck to an iron stake on an altar opposite the door.
‘Comfortable?’ Biscuit snarled.
‘Perfectly, thank you.’ Mimi turned her back on him and folded her front paws.
‘Inspector Cheddar’s not going to help you,’ Biscuit told her. ‘He’s away with the pharaohs. Zenia hairpinned him. Six times. He’ll sleep till Christmas.’
‘Good for her,’ Mimi said coldly.
Biscuit growled. Nothing he did or said seemed to make any impression on her.
‘You can’t escape, you know.’
‘Yes I can,’ Mimi said. ‘Atticus will get me out.’
‘MMMYYYAAAWWW!’
‘And even if he doesn’t, you’re finished.’
‘What do you mean?’ Biscuit spat back.
‘Cattypuss the Great’s not going to be very pleased, is he, when he finds out you’ve killed one of his descendants,’ Mimi said. ‘He’ll curse you, just like he did Howard Toffly. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t hunt you down and throttle you. You’ll be dead in your basket before you can say “obelisk”.’
Biscuit’s eyes narrowed.
‘You hadn’t thought of that, had you?’ Mimi sensed she’d scored a victory. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in your paws when the curse of Cattypuss comes knocking.’
‘GGRRRRRRR …’
The argument had woken up the magpies. They’d been having a sleep on a rush mat in the corner.
‘Someone’s in a bad mood!’ sang Thug. He winked at Slasher. ‘How many statues of Cattypuss the Great did you count on your way up the boulevard, Slash?’
‘I got to one thousand, four hundred and eighty-nine,’ Slasher said. ‘Then I lost count: there were so many.’
‘We’d better do it again on the way back.’ Thug grinned. ‘Will you help us, Ginger?’
‘Cut it out!’ Ginger Biscuit snapped.
‘There’s three thousand, one hundred and seven drawings of him in the passageway,’ Pig said helpfully.
‘Not to mention the etching on the altar,’ Wally reminded them.
‘And that lovely mural on the wall,’ said Gizzard pointing at a large painting of Cattypuss the Great receiving gifts from minions.
‘Shut up!’ said Ginger Biscuit.
‘It’s amazing how much like Claw Cattypuss looks,’ Slasher remarked.
‘Could be his double!’ Thug agreed. ‘It’s like Claw’s really the cat pharaoh, not Cattypuss.’
There was a flash of ginger.
‘Aaaaahhhhh!’ shrieked Thug. ‘He’s pinned me tail!’
‘Aaaaahhhhh!’ screamed Slasher. ‘He’s got me bad foot!’
Ginger Biscuit dragged them to the altar. He took hold of another iron chain and tethered them both by the beak next to Mimi.
‘Let them go,’ Jimmy screeched.
‘No.’ Biscuit advanced on Pig, Wally and Gizzard. ‘I’ve had it with you lot.’ He pinned them too.
Pig and Gizzard fainted.
Wally pooed himself.
‘Leave my magpies alone!’ Jimmy hopped about in fury.
‘Shan’t.’ Biscuit tethered the other three birds. He didn’t care if Zenia was cross. He didn’t care about anything except shutting the magpies up. And the curse: he cared about that.
‘You can’t do this!’ Jimmy squawked. ‘I forbid it!’
‘Just watch me.’ Ginger Biscuit grabbed Jimmy by the tail and slung him on the altar next to the others.
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!
‘You’ve no right to sacrifice us!’ Jimmy shouted, as Biscuit tied him up.
‘Call it my little gift to Cattypuss,’ Ginger Biscuit said. ‘A little offering to take his mind off the main event. I’m sure he won’t curse me when he sees what a lovely gift I’ve brought him. He’s a cat, after all. He’s bound to like birds.’ Biscuit grinned at Mimi. ‘Thanks for the tip.’
She backed away from the magpies. ‘You beast,’ she said.
‘Squeamish, are you?’ Ginger Biscuit popped out his claws. POP. POP. POP. POP. ‘Wait till you see what I do to your boyfriend.’
The magpies squawked feebly.
Mimi looked away.
Just then the door to the antechamber was thrown open. Zenia burst in with Professor Verry-Clever and the Tofflys. Professor Verry-Clever had his hands tied behind his back. Zenia gave him a shove. He fell over and crawled into a corner.
‘They’re coming!’ she shrieked. ‘Atticus, Velk and the others. Positions, everyone!’
The villains dashed back into the labyrinth of passages to hide.
Ginger ran after them. ‘I’ll be back,’ he hissed.
His time was coming. Gingerpuss the Horrible. He could almost hear the crowd roaring his name.
Inspector Cheddar opened one eye. He looked about. He was in a dingy cellar full of cobwebs. He opened the other eye and tried to sit up. ‘Ouch!’ He retrieved two hairpins from his backside and tried again.
Where was he? More to the point, Who was he? What time was it? What YEAR WAS IT?? Inspector Cheddar couldn’t remember a thing. He glanced at his clothes: a djellaba,
a turban, some sandals. He felt in his pockets. A few quill pens and a bit of papyrus. He was an Ancient Egyptian. But what did he do? What was his name? A crack of light was coming from under the door. Inspector Cheddar pushed it open with a creak and started looking round for clues.
His eye was drawn to the hieroglyphs on the wall. There was a cat, a handsome, wise-looking tabby cat with four white socks and a blue and green headdress. Inspector Cheddar thought he’d seen that cat before. He traced the hieroglyphs with his fingers. Yes, it was all coming back to him now. The cat was the mighty ruler of Nebu-Mau: the cat pharaoh, Cattypuss the Great. Other hieroglyphs showed people coming from far and wide to worship him, bringing gifts and kneeling at his feet. Inspector Cheddar gave a cry of joy. That was it! He had come from afar to worship Cattypuss the Great: to offer himself up as his slave. He wished he had some prawns with him. He let himself out of the dungeon and trotted off towards the pyramid.
Atticus entered the pyramid with the Tuckers, the kids and Mrs Cheddar.
They made their way through the torch-lit passageways. Atticus felt calm. He knew the way. The others followed in silence. They entered the antechamber.
‘Atticus!’ Mimi cried. ‘I knew you’d come!’
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ Even the magpies were glad to see him!
‘Mimi!’ Atticus ran to her while Mrs Tucker went to rescue Professor Verry-Clever. Atticus flicked out his claws. It only took seconds for the world’s greatest ex-cat burglar to free Mimi from the iron chain.
‘Don’t forget your old friends!’ Thug pleaded.
‘Let us out too!’ Slasher begged.
Atticus hesitated. He didn’t trust the magpies, but he didn’t really want Biscuit to munch them either. They should face justice like any other criminal. He wondered where Inspector Cheddar was. He hoped he would come soon and arrest everyone. ‘Maybe later,’ he growled.
He turned to face the tomb. Mrs Tucker had untied Professor Verry-Clever. The Professor stood beside Atticus, Howard Toffly’s book in his hand. His face was white. ‘This is history in the making!’ he whispered, giving Atticus a pat. ‘Good luck, Atticus.’
‘Are you sure you want to go through with this, Atticus?’ Mrs Tucker asked.
Squeak … squeak … squeak.
They turned.
‘Of course he’s sure, Velk!’ Zenia Klob marched into the antechamber. She had on her 1920s tomb-raider’s costume: green khaki hat, green khaki jacket, green khaki shorts, green khaki knickers (although luckily you couldn’t see those) and a pistol loaded with hairpins at her belt. ‘Don’t think I von’t use it.’ She took it out and waved it at Mrs Tucker.
The Tofflys stood behind her threateningly. Lord Toffly was very red in the face. His moustache shone with sweat. He had put his thickest tweed suit on for the occasion and it was very hot and itchy. He was armed with a set of dessertspoons. Lady Toffly had polished her teeth with Spoonbright. They shone yellow in the torchlight. She wore a T-shirt that said ‘Tofflys’ Treasure Trip’, which she’d had printed specially in Cairo, and carried a sack to put the goodies in.
Biscuit pushed past them into the antechamber.
‘Claw,’ he hissed.
‘Biscuit,’ Atticus hissed back.
‘Ve seem to be missing someone.’ Klob pretended to look for Inspector Cheddar. ‘Ah yes, Inspector Vally.’
‘Don’t call Dad a wally,’ Michael said.
‘Vy not?’ Klob spat. ‘He said I had a face like a camel’s bum.’
‘You do have a face like a camel’s bum!’ Michael shouted back.
‘Only a camel’s bum is better looking!’ Callie put her hands on her hips and stuck her tongue out at Zenia.
‘Silence!’ screeched Zenia. ‘Dad’s kaput. He von’t save you. I vacked him vith six hairpins for his insolence.’
‘No!’ Mrs Cheddar screamed. ‘You witch!’
‘Shall ve proceed?’ Zenia said coldly.
‘MMMYAAAWWWW!’ Biscuit howled his agreement.
Mimi touched Atticus’s paw. Her golden eyes were anxious. ‘Biscuit plans to kill you,’ she whispered, ‘as soon as you’ve entered the tomb.’
‘It’s okay, Mimi,’ Atticus said. ‘I think I know a way to defeat Biscuit.’
‘How?’
‘All these feelings I’ve been having,’ Atticus explained, ‘they’re partly instinct like you said. But I think it’s more than that. I think Cattypuss is trying to control me. He wants me to open his tomb.’
‘But why?’ Mimi looked bewildered.
‘Because he wants to come back to life. Cattypuss wants to be me. Or rather, he wants me to be him!’
Mimi looked horrified. ‘But you’re not him. He’s not you. Atticus, you mustn’t let him control you.’
‘I have to, Mimi, just for a little while,’ Atticus said. ‘It’s the only way.’
‘No!’ Mimi clutched his paw. ‘It’s too dangerous. What if he doesn’t let you go? What if you never come back?’
Atticus set her paw down gently. ‘I’ve thought of that,’ he said, ‘but I have to take the risk. To save my family. And the Professor. And you.’
He stepped forward.
The door to the tomb was covered in hieroglyphs. The symbols were different from the ones in Howard Toffly’s book. They showed a funeral: a sarcophagus in the shape of the cat pharaoh being carried into the pyramid, followed by a procession of cats and humans bearing caskets and urns brimming with treasure. There was a picture of the god Anubis welcoming Cattypuss to the underworld. There was another of the sun god Ra promising him eternal life. It was this picture that Atticus chose. He placed his paw against the hieroglyph.
The door to the tomb slid back.
Torches on the walls flickered into life.
Nobody spoke. Even the magpies were silent.
The sarcophagus stood upright on a marble podium in the centre of the tomb. Next to it was a magnificent throne. The throne was surrounded by small statues of Cattypuss the Great identical to the ones in Howard Toffly’s crypt. They made a perfect circle, except that one – the one Howard Toffly had stolen – was missing.
Atticus drifted down the steps into the chamber. He felt dreamy. Treasure was piled high against the walls. It glittered and sparkled in the torchlight.
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ From the antechamber he heard the magpies’ soft chatter. They had spotted the treasure.
He approached the sarcophagus.
The humans crowded round the door of the tomb, speaking in whispers.
‘Is it safe to go in yet?’ Lord Toffly blustered. He clutched his spoons.
Professor Verry-Clever had his eyes glued on Atticus. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘It depends if Atticus has defeated the curse.’
‘It’s our treasure,’ Lady Toffly sounded peeved. ‘I don’t see why we can’t just go and get it.’
‘Vy don’t ve chuck the magpies in and see vot happens,’ Zenia suggested. ‘They shouldn’t be tied up anyvay.’ She glared at Biscuit. ‘Release them.’
Reluctantly, Biscuit unpicked the magpies’ chains one by one.
‘Go on, Thug.’ Jimmy gave him a shove. ‘You’re the expert. Go and say hi to your bessie, Anubis.’
‘Goodbye, cruel world.’ Thug tumbled down the steps into the tomb. He lay there, breathing heavily, waiting for the curse to strike.
Atticus had reached the podium. He jumped on to it.
‘What’s he doing?’ Callie whispered.
Mrs Tucker swallowed. ‘I’m not sure.’ She glanced at Mimi. Mimi’s eyes were fixed on Atticus.
Atticus raised a paw and placed it against the sarcophagus. The door opened with a creak of its rusty hinges.
Everyone gasped.
Inside the sarcophagus was the mummy of the cat pharaoh. Upon the mummy’s head rested a blue and green headdress.
Suddenly there was a swirl of dust. The torches flickered. Atticus staggered backwards. He almost fell.
‘Atticus!’ M
imi yowled.
Atticus didn’t seem to hear her. He recovered himself. He took the headdress from the mummy, placed it on his head and leapt on to the throne. The pyramid shook.
‘Oh my giddy aunt!’ Mrs Tucker breathed.
‘What is it?’ Callie demanded.
‘What’s happening?’ Mrs Cheddar shivered.
‘I’ve got a nasty feeling Cattypuss the Great has taken possession of Atticus!’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘I’ve been worried something like that might happen. Is that it, Mimi? Is that what Atticus thought too?’
‘Meow!’ Mimi jumped into Mrs Tucker’s arms to show her that she was right.
Biscuit could hardly believe his ears. Cattypuss take possession of Atticus Claw?! It was the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard.
Zenia thought so too. ‘Vot rot,’ she shrieked. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Biscuit! Get him!’
‘My pleasure!’ Biscuit growled. He’d soon show Claw who was the real king of cats around here. All the jealousy and hatred Ginger Biscuit had been bottling up burst out of him in a terrifying moan.
‘MMMYYYYYYYAAAAAWWWW.’
Ginger Biscuit advanced on the throne.
The others watched from the doorway, horrified. They dared not move, partly in case Zenia zapped them with her hairpin pistol (which was raised and ready to fire), and partly because they were afraid. Only Mimi seemed calm. She reached out a paw to Callie and Michael to reassure them.
‘You’re finished, Claw.’ Ginger Biscuit hopped up on to the podium and popped out his claws POP. POP. POP. POP.
Atticus glowered at him. ‘WHO ARE YOU?’ he thundered.
‘Don’t give me that,’ Biscuit snarled. ‘You know perfectly well who I am.’ He bared his teeth. ‘Your worst nightmare.’
‘SILENCE!’ Atticus commanded.