Atticus Claw Settles a Score

by Jennifer Gray

  Klob looked round quickly. Then she reached down to open the trolley. There was a flash of ginger.

  Biscuit! Atticus moved faster than he ever had before, even in his cat burgling days. In a fraction of a second he had leapt on to the counter and picked the ring up in his teeth.

  For an instant the two cats’ eyes met.

  ‘Claw!’ Ginger Biscuit hissed.

  ‘Biscuit!’ Atticus hissed back. (Except it came out more like ‘BBSSKKTT’ because he was being careful not to drop the ring.)

  Suddenly the shop assistant saw Atticus. ‘Thief!’ she screamed.

  Ginger Biscuit disappeared back into the trolley.

  Squeak … squeak … squeak

  Zenia Klob trundled back out through the revolving doors.

  Atticus looked around helplessly. Everyone in the shop was staring at him.

  ‘What the …’ Inspector Cheddar had recovered himself.

  Atticus’s chewed ear drooped. Now I’m for it! he thought.

  ‘I vasn’t expecting that!’

  On a barge on the Thames, Zenia Klob sat in the candle-lit cabin, eating burnt beetroot. ‘I never thought I’d see Atticus again,’ she said softly. ‘Did you, Biscuit?’

  Ginger Biscuit sat beside her dipping hairpins into a big green bottle marked sleeping potion. He hissed angrily.

  ‘I didn’t think so.’ Zenia stroked her evil cat lovingly, carefully avoiding the studded metal collar around his neck. Biscuit had a habit of helping himself to the sleeping potion when she wasn’t looking and dipping his collar studs in it. She smiled. He really was a horrible heartless brute. ‘It is a pity you tried to kill Atticus last time ve vere here,’ she sighed. ‘You vere a good team.’

  ‘RRRRRRRRR …’ Biscuit growled. He threw the hairpins down and retreated a little way along the sofa. Giving Zenia an evil look, he raised one paw and popped out his needle-sharp claws one by one: POP. POP. POP. POP. They sparkled in the candlelight.

  ‘There’s no need to be jealous.’ Zenia held up a thick book.

  SHSHSHSHHSHSHSH.

  Ginger Biscuit sliced it from one end to the other. The pages fluttered to the floor.

  ‘Atticus isn’t going to bother us. He doesn’t have vot it takes.’ Zenia Klob put out her hand to stroke him again. ‘He’s not ruthless like you and me. Although,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘I vos impressed by his move today at Toffany’s.’ She frowned. ‘I vonder vot he’s up to. I thought he’d gone straight.’

  ‘RRRRRR.’ Ginger Biscuit slashed at a cushion. Bits of stuffing popped out.

  Zenia Klob sighed. Biscuit was in one of his moods. ‘Honestly, Biscuit, I know you’re disappointed about the diamond,’ she said sternly. ‘So am I. But you need to learn to control your temper.’ She reached into the pocket of her huge raincoat and found a dead rat. There was a good supply of rats in the muddy banks beside the barge. Or at least there had been until Biscuit arrived. This was the last one. She’d been keeping it for emergencies. ‘Look on the bright side, can’t you? The police think ve’re going to hit the big jewellery stores again. That’s vy that brainless cop Cheddar vos at Toffany’s today. They’ve got no idea vot ve’re really after. Here!’ she tossed the rat in the air.

  Biscuit leapt up, his muscles bulging, and caught the rat between his teeth. CRUNCH! He gulped it down, fur and everything. The only bit he left was the stomach, which he spat out on to the table in a green wobbly mess. Sulkily, licking his lips, he crept back towards Zenia.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, stroking his tail. ‘Now forget about Atticus. It’s time for you to let the magpies in on the plan vile I go to the shop and buy the feather dye so I can put the finishing touches to their disguises.’ She opened the hatch. ‘Oh, and Biscuit,’ she said. ‘Don’t eat them.’ She grinned. ‘Yet.’ She disappeared.

  As soon as she had gone, Ginger Biscuit jumped off the sofa and padded towards the back of the barge. He pulled open a curtain. Behind it were the sleeping quarters where the magpies were hidden. Ginger Biscuit’s pale blue eyes moved over them slowly. Five of them were asleep. The other one – the leader – was playing patience with an old pack of cards. He seemed intelligent, Ginger Biscuit thought, for a bird. ‘Wake them up,’ he ordered. ‘Zenia says it’s time to tell you the plan.’

  ‘All right.’ Jimmy Magpie threw down the ace of spades.

  Biscuit watched as he went round pecking the other birds on the head. When the fat one didn’t wake up Jimmy gave him a good kick in the tail.

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ the bird protested.

  ‘Get up, Thug, or I’ll let the cat pluck out all your feathers and roast you over a candle,’ Jimmy said nastily.

  Ginger Biscuit felt a growing respect for Jimmy Magpie: he wasn’t just intelligent; he was mean too.

  ‘Not the ginger one, Jimmy!’ Thug squawked. ‘There’s something sinister about him. He’s worse than Atticus Claw! AAARRRRHHHH!’

  Ginger Biscuit pounced on him. ‘Tell me what you know about Claw.’

  ‘You tell him, Boss,’ Thug gurgled. ‘He’s got me by the glug.’

  ‘Claw double-crossed us,’ Jimmy said. ‘We hired him from Monte Carlo to steal some stuff for us in Littleton-on-Sea. Why? Is he a friend of yours?’

  ‘AAARRRRRHHHHH!’

  Ginger Biscuit’s grip tightened around Thug’s throat. ‘He’s no friend of mine,’ he snarled. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Claw got friendly with the local copper and his family,’ Jimmy said. ‘Changed his mind about being a cat burglar. Decided he wanted to put everything back!’ Jimmy’s beak twisted in disgust. ‘He caught us trying to steal the Tofflys’ tiara. That’s how we ended up in the slammer. All thanks to Claw.’

  ‘That’s what I heard.’ Keeping hold of Thug, Ginger Biscuit sat back and scratched his ear with a free paw. ‘So what was Claw doing in Toffany’s today stealing a diamond ring?’

  ‘You sure he was stealing it?’ Jimmy asked sharply.

  ‘Pretty sure,’ Biscuit growled. ‘That copper was there too. He nabbed Claw as soon as we left.’

  ‘You mean Claw’s back on burgling?’ Gizzard demanded.

  ‘No way,’ Slasher gasped. ‘What a crook!’

  ‘What’s Claw to you anyway?’ Jimmy Magpie was watching Ginger Biscuit carefully.

  ‘I taught him everything he knows,’ Biscuit hissed. ‘Except he didn’t learn the most important lesson.’

  ‘Which is?’ Jimmy prompted.

  ‘To kill.’

  ‘Aaarrrrrgggghhhh!’ Thug was still flapping feebly.

  ‘We did a job in Kensington one night.’ Ginger Biscuit stared into space, remembering. ‘Posh house. Loads of loot. They had a parrot in a cage. I told Claw to finish it off. He didn’t. The parrot started squawking. Woke the whole neighbourhood up.’ His fur rippled. ‘Claw nearly got us all caught.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Claw scarpered.’

  ‘Leaving a bit of chewed ear behind?’ Jimmy guessed.

  ‘Yeah.’ Ginger Biscuit smirked. ‘Between my teeth.’

  Thug gave a final twitch. Ginger Biscuit let go of him.

  ‘Is he dead?’ Pig asked.

  Thug didn’t move.

  ‘Looks like it,’ Gizzard hopped on to Thug’s stomach and started bouncing up and down.

  ‘’Ere, let me have a go,’ Wally joined in.

  Ginger Biscuit flicked them off with his paw. ‘He’d better not be,’ he snarled. ‘We need all six of you. Alive. You!’ He pointed at Slasher. ‘Get the worms.’

  Slasher dug a plastic bag out from under a cushion.

  ‘Tip ’em out.’

  Gizzard, Wally and Pig fluttered over to help Slasher. Between them they upended the bag and tipped the contents over Thug’s body. Thug disappeared under a wriggling mass of squirming brown.

  There was a faint sigh. Then a snort. Then a horrible sucking noise. Thug sat up, smacking his beak. His eyes were closed. There was a look of bliss on his face. ‘I’ve died and go
ne to worm heaven!’ he whispered.

  ‘No, you haven’t,’ Jimmy gave him a smack. He turned to Biscuit. ‘So what’s the plan?’

  The magpies watched Ginger Biscuit with beady eyes, their heads to one side.

  ‘We’re going to pull off the biggest robbery ever seen,’ Ginger Biscuit told them. ‘We’re going to make history. We’re going to have every flat-footed copper in the country foxed. We’re going after the biggest, most valuable prize in the whole world.’

  ‘The Crown Jewels?’ Jimmy guessed.

  Biscuit nodded. ‘We’re going to scoop the lot.’

  ‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’ The magpies all started chattering at once.

  Jimmy silenced them with a look. ‘With six magpies, you and Klob? How?’

  ‘Call it an inside job,’ Ginger Biscuit said slyly. ‘That’s where you guys come in. Now listen carefully and I’ll tell you exactly what you have to do.’

  The next morning the Cheddar family was having breakfast at the hotel. Atticus had been given a special high chair with a tray attached to it to make it easier for him to reach his food. On the tray was a dish of meaty chunks from one of the foil sachets he loved. Admittedly the tray was a bit babyish but he didn’t mind too much. He liked sitting with the Cheddars around the table rather than eating from a dish off the floor. He hoped they’d buy him a chair like that when they got back to Littleton-on-Sea.

  ‘He was trying to steal the ring, I tell you!’ Inspector Cheddar pointed his fork towards the high chair.

  Atticus’s good ear drooped. He couldn’t seem to make Inspector Cheddar understand that he hadn’t been stealing the ring; he’d been protecting it from Zenia Klob and Ginger Biscuit.

  ‘Nonsense!’ Mrs Cheddar said firmly.

  ‘Atticus wouldn’t do that, Dad.’ Callie scowled.

  ‘He’s not a burglar now.’ Michael frowned. ‘He’s a police cat.’

  ‘Not any more, he isn’t,’ Inspector Cheddar said. ‘I’m stripping him of his badge.’ He leant across the table, unpinned the badge from the red handkerchief around Atticus’s neck and stuck it in his pocket.

  Atticus’s chewed ear drooped.

  ‘Dad, that’s a horrible thing to do!’ Michael cried.

  ‘How can you be so mean?’ Callie yelled.

  ‘Poor Atticus,’ Mrs Cheddar agreed. ‘You’ve made him upset. Look! You’ve put him off his food.’

  Atticus didn’t feel hungry any more. He stared dolefully at the meaty chunks.

  ‘He needs cheering up,’ Callie said.

  ‘He needs cheering up!’ Inspector Cheddar repeated. ‘What about me? I’m stuck on traffic cones for the rest of my career.’

  ‘That’s not Atticus’s fault,’ Michael said. ‘He didn’t go round attacking the Police Commissioner’s mother.’

  ‘I didn’t know it was the Police Commissioner’s mother!’ Inspector Cheddar shouted. ‘I thought it was Zenia Klob.’

  ‘Atticus must have realised it wasn’t her,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘That’s why he didn’t go after the fox fur.’

  ‘He didn’t go after the fox fur because he was too busy going after the ring!’ Inspector Cheddar retorted.

  Atticus gave a strangled meow.

  ‘No,’ Mrs Cheddar was watching Atticus closely. ‘I really don’t think he’d do that. You knew it wasn’t Klob, didn’t you, Atticus?’

  Atticus felt his appetite returning. At least somebody understood him. His throat began to rumble.

  ‘Listen, Mum,’ Michael said. ‘He’s purring! You must be right.’

  ‘So let’s think.’ Mrs Cheddar gave Atticus a bit of crispy bacon off her plate. ‘How would Atticus know it wasn’t Zenia Klob?’

  ‘What about the photo the Commissioner showed him?’ Michael asked.

  ‘It was a rotten photo,’ Inspector Cheddar said crossly. ‘It could have been any old biddy. I’m telling you it looked exactly like the Police Commissioner’s mother.’

  ‘Hmmm. Not the photo then,’ Mrs Cheddar gave Atticus a bit of sausage. ‘So how?’

  Atticus made another strangled yowl.

  ‘Maybe he’s seen Zenia Klob before,’ Callie suggested.

  Atticus’s ears pricked up.

  ‘Maybe he knows who she really is,’ Michael said.

  Atticus’s whiskers twitched.

  The children turned to one another excitedly. They were thinking the same thing.

  Zenia Klob was a burglar. Atticus used to be one too. ‘Maybe Atticus used to work for Zenia Klob!’ they said at the same time.

  Atticus was purring like a tractor. Bingo!

  ‘Rubbish!’ Inspector Cheddar wiped his mouth with his napkin. ‘Zenia Klob is a world-famous criminal mistress of disguise. Atticus is a tubby tabby who just happens to have a habit of nicking shiny things when he gets the chance. Like those mangy magpies.’

  ‘But, Dad …’ the children protested.

  Mrs Cheddar put her finger to her lips to silence them. She winked at Atticus. ‘Let’s talk about it later,’ she said.

  Atticus purred throatily. She knew they were right!

  Inspector Cheddar stood up. ‘What are we doing today?’

  ‘We’re going to the Tower of London,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘Come on, Atticus.’ She released the tray and picked him up. ‘We’re going to see the Crown Jewels.’

  Atticus had heard about the Crown Jewels, but he’d never actually seen them. He felt excited as Michael carried him off the Tube and they walked out from the dark Underground station into the sunshine. He stared. The Tower of London stood before him. Atticus had never seen anything like it before. It was enormous! Thick stone walls peppered with round towers rose up into the sky. A huge empty moat ran around the edge. In the middle stood a gigantic square building with four high turrets.

  ‘Arrowholes!’ Michael said. The towers were spotted with tiny black windows.

  ‘That’s the White Tower in the middle,’ Mrs Cheddar consulted her guidebook. ‘It says here it’s where they used to torture people.’

  ‘Let’s go and have a proper look!’ Michael put Atticus down. ‘I’ll bet there are some good ghost stories too.’

  They set off around the moat to buy tickets. Just beyond the ticket office Atticus noticed a row of old shops.

  He sniffed. He could smell fish and chips. He hoped they’d go there later.

  ‘Come on!’ Mrs Cheddar led the way to the entrance to the Tower.

  ‘Who are they?’ Callie stopped and stared. Two men in knee-length blue and red coats with matching hats stood beside the drawbridge.

  ‘They’re called beefeaters,’ Michael said. ‘We learned about them at school.’

  Beefeaters! Atticus’s ears pricked up. It was another interesting human word he didn’t know. He wondered if a cat could be a beefeater. He liked beef. He thought he might volunteer.

  ‘They used to guard the prisoners at the Tower,’ Mrs Cheddar read from her book. ‘And now they look after the Crown Jewels and show tourists round. It says here they’re all ex-soldiers.’

  Inspector Cheddar gave Atticus a look. ‘So don’t think you can get away with stealing anything else,’ he muttered.

  ‘What do you want to see first?’ Mrs Cheddar asked. ‘The ravens or the Crown Jewels?’

  Ravens? Atticus was puzzled.

  So was Callie. ‘Ravens?’ she repeated. ‘Why do they keep ravens at the Tower of London?’

  One of the beefeaters stepped forward. ‘There’s a legend here at the Tower,’ he said in a loud whisper. ‘If the ravens ever leave, the White Tower will fall. And if the White Tower falls, the monarchy goes with it.’

  ‘What, you mean we wouldn’t have a queen any more?’ Michael gasped.

  ‘Exactly.’ The beefeater was eyeing Atticus. ‘If the ravens leave, it’s curtains for Her Majesty and the rest of the royal family. Zip. Finished. Bye-bye.’

  ‘What a lot of twaddle!’ Inspector Cheddar guffawed.

  The beefeater glared at him. ‘Her Maje
sty doesn’t think so. Which is why we keep our ravens under the close eye of Her Majesty’s Raven Master.’ He coughed. ‘Ron to his friends.’

  ‘Can we see them?’ Callie asked.

  ‘You can. ‘The beefeater was still eyeing Atticus. ‘But I’d rather you didn’t take your cat,’ he said, ‘for obvious reasons.’

  ‘Atticus won’t eat them,’ Michael said. ‘He’s just had breakfast.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ The beefeater didn’t look convinced. ‘Well, all right then, but keep him well away from our birds if you don’t want him executed for treason.’

  Atticus gulped. He didn’t like the sound of that.

  The Cheddars walked along the bridge and under the portcullis into a cobbled street. ‘This is where all the shops used to be,’ Mrs Cheddar read from her book. ‘They used to bring in supplies along the Thames.’

  There was a heavy iron door to their right. Inspector Cheddar peered through the grate. ‘Come and have a look, kids. The river’s just here. There are some steps down.’

  ‘Oh yeah!’ Michael stood on tiptoe. ‘Here, Atticus, do you want to see?’

  Atticus felt himself being picked up. He put an eye to the grate. The tide was out and the slimy steps led down to a muddy bank. Resting on top of the muddy bank was an old barge. It looked like a houseboat, although not a very well kept one. Grimy curtains were pulled across the windows and there were dead potted plants on the deck. Atticus shivered. He’d hate to live somewhere like that. It was probably full of rats. He meowed to get down.

  ‘I think it’s this way to the ravens,’ Mrs Cheddar moved off towards an archway on the left. ‘Come on.’ The others followed.

  Atticus crept along behind them. The height of the walls made him feel very small. On the other side of the archway he glanced at a signpost that pointed up some steps.