Atticus Claw Settles a Score

by Jennifer Gray

  ‘Klob doesn’t bother me,’ the woman cracked her knuckles. ‘I’m more than a match for her.’

  The doctor could believe it. This one looked like an ex-sergeant major.

  ‘Well, have fun, then.’ He stepped out of the hut and closed the door behind him. His footsteps faded away.

  ‘Oh, ve vill,’ Griselda Grump chuckled. ‘Lots and lots of fun. Von’t ve, Ginger?’

  From the depths of the trolley came a savage ‘MYYYAWW.’

  ‘Out you come, then.’

  Ginger Biscuit climbed out of the trolley and jumped down.

  ‘Shall I get the keys?’ Zenia Klob asked him. ‘Or vill you get those mangy magpies out yourself?’

  POP. POP. POP. POP. One by one Biscuit popped out his claws.

  ‘Vait! I’ll check the coast is clear.’ Zenia stuck her head out of the hut. The last of the tourists were filing out of the Tower. No one was around. ‘Okay.’

  Biscuit sauntered over to the raven pens and fiddled with the lock.

  PING! The lock sprang open.

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

  The magpies chattered and hopped.

  ‘Be quiet!’ Zenia Klob reached into her trolley. ‘Ve need to get the equipment ready. It’s nearly time to start the broadcast.’

  ‘I’m baffled,’ the Commissioner said.

  ‘So am I,’ the Deputy Commissioner agreed.

  Atticus sat on the desk in the Commissioner’s office, listening to the conversation. Now that everyone knew he could recognise Zenia Klob, he and Inspector Cheddar were back on the case. Atticus just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  ‘What do you make of it, Cheddar?’ the Police Commissioner scratched his head. ‘Why would Klob go into the hut disguised as a vet and knock the Raven Master out?’

  Atticus was puzzled about that too. It didn’t make any sense.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Inspector Cheddar shrugged. ‘Unless she was after his keys.’

  ‘He only had keys to where the ravens are kept,’ the Deputy Commissioner said, ‘And she didn’t take them.’

  ‘I thought she was going to steal the ravens,’ Callie spoke up. ‘Didn’t I, Mum?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mrs Cheddar frowned, ‘you did.’

  ‘That’s very clever of you, young lady,’ the Commissioner sounded impressed. ‘Er … why would she do that, though?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Callie admitted.

  ‘The obvious target is the Crown Jewels,’ Mrs Cheddar said. ‘Maybe Zenia Klob thought if she stole the ravens, she could hold the Queen to ransom and demand that she hand them over. Otherwise the monarchy would fall.’

  ‘Yes, but she’d have to keep the ravens there,’ Michael said. ‘Or the monarchy would fall anyway and she wouldn’t get paid. She’d have to hide them somewhere at the Tower.’

  ‘I can see where you’re coming from young man but the fact is she didn’t steal them,’ the Deputy Commissioner sighed. ‘They were all accounted for. Six ravens. All present and correct. You said so yourself.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Michael agreed. ‘Although there was something odd about them.’

  ‘Odd?’ the Commissioner repeated.

  One of them made a different noise.’

  ‘I think you must be imagining things,’ the Commissioner said, not unkindly. ‘Ravens are ravens, and remember, you’d only seen them once before.’

  ‘What about the others?’ Mrs Cheddar asked. ‘The ones that went for their bird-flu jabs?’

  ‘They’re accounted for,’ the Commissioner said. ‘We contacted the real vet. She was planning to return them tomorrow and pick up some more.’

  Atticus picked at his claws. The obvious target for Klob was the Crown Jewels. What could she want with the Raven Master? And what was with the vet disguise?

  Just then, a junior police officer rushed in. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, sir,’ he said, his face purple, ‘but I think you’d better turn on the TV.’

  ‘The TV?’ the Commissioner repeated furiously. ‘We’re in the middle of an important meeting.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, but this is an emergency.’ The junior police officer strode towards a screen on the wall opposite the Commissioner’s desk, grabbed the clicker from the shelf below and switched it on. ‘It’s Klob, sir. She’s making a broadcast. She’s jammed all the other channels.’

  ‘Klob?’ The Police Commissioner’s mouth fell open.

  The Cheddars turned round and gazed at the screen. So did Atticus.

  A picture of Zenia Klob wearing a beefeater uniform and heavy army boots appeared. In the background was the Raven Master’s hut.

  ‘This is Griselda Grump, beetrooteater, also known as Zenia Klob, mistress of disguise, broadcasting to you from the raven pens at the Tower of London,’ she said.

  Atticus growled.

  ‘I have a message for Her Majesty the Queen.’ She grinned at the camera. ‘And I’d advise you to listen up, Queenie, if you know vot’s good for you.’

  ‘Somebody arrest her!’ the Police Commissioner shouted. ‘Get hold of the other beefeaters now! This is treason!’

  Zenia Klob narrowed her eyes. She poked a finger at the camera. ‘And before you think about getting those bumbling beetrooteaters to arrest me, you’d better hear me out if you still vant to be on the throne tomorrow.’

  The camera panned in on Zenia Klob’s ugly mug. Atticus shivered. She hadn’t changed a bit: the same cruel eyes and thin mean mouth he remembered from when he was a kitten.

  ‘Perhaps we’d better listen to what she’s got to say, sir,’ the Deputy Commissioner said nervously.

  The Commissioner poured himself a glass of water. He was sweating.

  ‘Earlier today I vent to the raven pens cunningly disguised as a vet vith my brilliant accomplice and camera-cat, Ginger Biscuit,’ – a paw waved in front of the camera – ‘zapped the Raven Master and svitched the ravens for different birds. I knew, of course, that there vould only be six ravens present at that time as the others vere avay for their bird-flu jabs.’

  Everyone gasped. ‘So that’s what she was up to!’ Mrs Cheddar whispered.

  Atticus stared hard at Inspector Cheddar. If only he’d believed it when Atticus tried to tell him the vet was Klob, they could have stopped her. Inspector Cheddar seemed to be thinking the same thing. He gave Atticus a weak grin.

  ‘In their place,’ Zenia Klob continued, ‘I substituted the Toffly Hall magpie gang who I lifted from Your Majesty’s High Security Prison for Bad Birds only two days ago, along with three of their magpie mates.’

  The magpies! Atticus stared at the screen. Of course! He’d heard the magpies chattering in the trolley when he leapt on it. He should have realised what Zenia had in mind.

  But they didn’t look anything like magpies!’ Mrs Cheddar protested.

  Zenia Klob was looking pleased with herself. ‘Those raven suits I made for them vorked a treat!’ she boasted.

  ‘She’s bluffing!’ the Commissioner banged his fist on the desk.

  ‘And if you think I’m bluffing, vatch this.’

  The camera shifted to the raven pens. The wire doors hung open. Lined up outside the pens were six birds. Atticus felt his fur prickle. One had a hooked foot. A second chattered loudly. A third had glittering black eyes. Atticus didn’t know the other three but the Toffly Hall gang could be disguised as chickens and he’d still recognise them anywhere. Slasher, Thug and Jimmy Magpie: looking as cocky as ever. He began to hiss.

  Zenia Klob reached down, grabbed Thug and held him upside down by his feet.

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

  ‘Shut up!’ Zenia shouted. ‘Pass me the dye-stripper, Ginger.’

  The camera wobbled a bit, then the paw appeared again clutching a dark green bottle.

  ‘I said the dye-stripper, Ginger, not the sleeping potion,’ Zenia said fondly. ‘You and your little tricks, you naughty boy!’

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chack!’ Thug flapped his raven wings furio
usly.

  ‘Hold still, birdie,’ Zenia took a second bottle from the outstretched paw. ‘Or I’ll let Ginger do it.’

  Thug froze.

  ‘That’s better.’ Zenia peeled the raven suit off Thug with her teeth. Then she tipped the contents of the bottle over him to remove the remnants of the feather dye and gave him a good shake. Black droplets scattered over the grass. ‘See?’ She held him up to the camera. ‘A magpie.’ She dropped Thug on the floor and gestured to the rest. ‘So instead of your six precious ravens, Queenie, vot ve have here is half a dozen thieving magpies.’

  ‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’

  Zenia Klob dropped the empty bottle on the grass. Atticus caught a glimpse of the label.

  Thumpers’ traditional? Mr Tucker used Thumpers’ Traditional to dye his beard-jumper white. Atticus wondered where the shop was. Zenia must have gone there to get supplies since she arrived in London.

  ‘But don’t vorry, ma’am,’ Zenia sniggered. ‘Ve’ve hidden them here in the Tower. That’s vy you’re still at Buckingham Palace and haven’t been slung out into the street yet by a revolting rabble.’ She chuckled at the thought.

  ‘We’ve got to find those ravens!’ the Commissioner pounded the desk with his fist.

  ‘And forget about finding the ravens,’ Zenia Klob snarled. ‘They’re in a place no human vill ever discover. Ginger is taking good care of them, aren’t you, my pet?’ The paw waved in front of the camera. Zenia glared into the lens. ‘They’re safe. And so are you, Queenie. For now. Although …’ she added slyly … ‘I’d vatch it, if I vere you. Ginger has a huge appetite.’ POP. POP. POP. POP. The paw waved again, this time with four needle-sharp claws curving from the end of it.

  Inspector Cheddar gulped.

  The Commissioner shook with fear.

  The Deputy Commissioner passed out.

  Mrs Cheddar and the kids huddled together.

  Atticus flattened his ears.

  ‘So this is vot’s going to happen. Ve’ll leave the ravens somevere you can find them at the Tower only if you agree to our demands. Then you get to keep the throne and ve get to run off with the Crown Jewels. It’s quite simple really.’ Zenia produced a list from her pocket and read it out.

  DEMANDS

  One. Evacuate the Tower.

  Two. Disarm the security system.

  Three. Have a cargo plane ready for me to fly out of City Airport to my beloved home of Siberia vith the Crown Jewels.

  Four. Or else.

  ‘If you don’t do as ve say,’ Zenia Klob stamped her boots, ‘Ginger vill kill the ravens. Vot he doesn’t eat he’ll chuck in the Thames. And you can vave bye-bye to your throne, lady. Britain, like my own vonderful country – Russia – will become a Republic. You have until dawn.’

  The screen started fizzing. It went fuzzy, then black.

  There was silence for a few moments.

  BRRIINNNNGGGG! The sound of the ringing phone startled everyone.

  The Commissioner picked it up. He clicked the button for loudspeaker. ‘Yes, what is it?’ he demanded.

  ‘I have the Queen on line one, sir,’ the operator said. ‘She wants to see you at the Palace. At once.’

  Two panda cars were waiting for them at the entrance to Scotland Yard. The drivers held the doors open. Inspector Cheddar and the two senior policemen jumped into the first one. Atticus, Mrs Cheddar and the children scrambled into the second.

  ‘Belt up!’ the driver ordered. ‘Including the cat.’

  Atticus was on the back seat, in the middle between the two children. Michael pulled the belt across him. Click! His head poked out between the two straps. ‘We’re ready!’ Michael said.

  NEE-NAW. NEE-NAW. NEE-NAW.

  The panda car sped away. It whizzed along the street, overtaking cars and buses. Pedestrians stood on the pavements gawping.

  ‘Hold on,’ the driver said, swerving on to the wrong side of the road to get past a lorry. ‘We’re nearly at the Mall. You’ll see the Palace in a minute.’

  They accelerated through an archway on to a big wide road lined with trees.

  ‘There. Up ahead.’

  At the end of the road Atticus could see a beautiful building the colour of sand surrounded by tall gates. Buckingham Palace! The last time he’d seen it had been as a tiny dot from the London Eye. He preferred the view down here. Suddenly he felt very important. He was going to meet the Queen! He wished Inspector Cheddar had remembered to give him his police-cat badge back to show Her Majesty.

  NEE-NAW. NEE-NAW. NEE-NAW. Within seconds they had arrived.

  Two guards in red and black uniform opened the gates. Atticus shrank back when he saw them. They were wearing animals on their heads!

  Michael stroked him soothingly. ‘Don’t worry, Atticus, they’re called busbies. It’s part of their uniform. They’re made of bearskin.’

  Atticus tried to relax. At least it wasn’t cat fur.

  The panda car pulled up. Click! Callie released Atticus’s seat belt. Mrs Cheddar and the kids jumped out to join the two senior policemen and Inspector Cheddar. Atticus milled about their feet, trying not to get trodden on in the excitement.

  A tall lady in a smart black suit greeted them. ‘I’m Monica Mint, the Queen’s private secretary,’ she told them. ‘Her Majesty is waiting for you. The Prime Minister is here too. There’s not a moment to lose.’

  She led them into the Palace, her high heels clacking on the marble floor. Atticus barely had time to take in his surroundings as he scampered after her, but he was dimly aware of rich paintings hanging from gilt frames and carved mahogany tables covered in beautiful ornaments and clocks. In his old cat-burgling days he’d have stopped to take a much closer look. Not any more. Now all his attention was focused on saving Her Majesty’s wonderful treasure from Zenia Klob and Ginger Biscuit.

  Monica Mint paused outside a door. ‘Her Majesty will see you now. Ladies, don’t forget to curtsy. Gentlemen, remember to bow. Her Majesty considers manners to be most important even at a time of national crisis such as this.’

  Atticus felt panicky. He didn’t know how to bow! He crept in after the others.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Commissioner.’ The Queen was sitting in an armchair by the window holding a cup of tea. Beside her in another armchair, looking worried, sat the Prime Minister.

  ‘Your Majesty.’ The Commissioner bowed. ‘Prime Minister. You know the Deputy Commissioner already.’ The Deputy Commissioner bowed. ‘Allow me to introduce the Cheddar family.’

  Mrs Cheddar and Callie stepped forward and curtsied. Inspector Cheddar and Michael bowed. Inspector Cheddar lost his balance and banged his head on a table.

  ‘How do you do?’ the Queen said.

  Inspector Cheddar rubbed his temple. He was about to reply when Monica Mint gave him a dirty look. ‘You don’t reply to that question,’ she hissed.

  ‘And this is their cat, Atticus Claw,’ the Commissioner said.

  Atticus tiptoed across the fine carpet towards the Queen. He stood up on his hind legs, placed one paw across his chest and leant forward, trying not to fall over.

  ‘Delighted, I’m sure,’ the Queen said. ‘I must say you have lovely manners for an animal. Perhaps you could teach the corgis some after tea. Do sit down, everyone.’

  Atticus swallowed. He’d just noticed three wirylooking dogs lying in a basket in the corner of the room watching him hungrily. He hopped on to Mrs Cheddar’s lap for safety as they all sat down on a long sofa.

  ‘Atticus helped arrest the Toffly Hall magpie gang, Ma’am,’ the Commissioner explained.

  ‘And he knows who Zenia Klob is, Your Majesty,’ Michael said. ‘He can recognise her even when she’s in disguise.’

  ‘How interesting.’ The Queen sipped her tea.

  ‘We think Atticus used to work for Zenia Klob, Your Majesty,’ Callie said. ‘When he was a cat burglar.’

  ‘A cat burglar?’ the Queen eyeballed Atticus disapprovingly. Atticus felt himself blush under his fur
.

  ‘He doesn’t do it any more, Ma’am,’ Mrs Cheddar explained hastily. ‘Not since we gave him a home. He’s a reformed cat burglar now.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad about that,’ the Queen said, ‘Because we’re already short on teaspoons. We sent some off to be cleaned to some people called Toffly and never got them back.’ She sighed. ‘And we’ll be short on everything else if this Klob person has her way.’ She turned to the Commissioner. ‘What are we going to do? Klob seems to have it all sewn up. If Biscuit eats the ravens, I’ve had it.’

  The Commissioner looked gloomy. ‘I don’t know,’ he admitted.

  Inspector Cheddar was gawping at the Queen. His nervousness had got the better of him. ‘I have an idea, your Queenliness,’ he bellowed suddenly. ‘It’s to do with Atticus.’

  ‘Spit it out then,’ the Prime Minister grumbled. He didn’t want the monarchy to fall while he was in charge. The papers would be full of it. He’d never get re-elected.

  ‘I misjudged Atticus, your noble personage,’ Inspector Cheddar squeaked. ‘I dragged him away when he was on to Klob at the Tower.’

  Atticus began to purr softly. It wasn’t often Inspector Cheddar admitted he was wrong or said anything nice about him.

  ‘You mean this is all your fault?’ the Prime Minister complained.

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ Inspector Cheddar gulped. ‘But it’s taught me a lesson.’

  ‘What lesson would that be, Inspector?’ the Queen asked kindly.

  ‘It’s taught me to trust Atticus.’

  Atticus’s purr grew louder.

  ‘Bit late!’ the Prime Minister growled.

  ‘Your point being?’ the Queen asked.

  ‘If Atticus really did work for Klob, most high and mighty lady …’ Inspector Cheddar hesitated.

  ‘Go on …’

  ‘He might be able to infiltrate the gang,’ Inspector Cheddar said quickly. ‘Then he’d be able to keep an eye on the ravens just in case Biscuit gets peckish. He could make sure they don’t get hurt …’

  ‘… while we work out a plan to save the Crown Jewels,’ the Commissioner finished. He thumped Inspector Cheddar on the back. ‘Good thinking, Cheddar!’