If Wolfe & Lamb didn’t crack the case soon, Kai and Dr Liu would be as extinct as the blue whale skeleton. And if the Order of Dragons were responsible for Johnny’s death, it would mean they’d be getting away with murder – again.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on it, Kat had adored her attic room. Its sea views, futon bed and crowded bookshelves were a dream come true. But with Tiny gone, it felt cold and full of ghosts. She pined for his warmth, his wild cat energy and even his moods. They changed like the weather, and Kat enjoyed the challenge of responding to them. Few things were more rewarding than comforting him if he were distressed by thunder, or the neighbour’s lawnmower, and hearing his purr swell in his chest.
Who would comfort him now? Was there a single kind person in charge of the confiscated creatures in the animal control centre? Did Tiny and Pax have blankets and fresh water in their grim concrete cells?
As Kat wiped away tears, she suddenly recalled her grandfather telling her he’d be there for her if she were ever in trouble. Before he was Minister of Defence, he’d been a lawyer. Perhaps he could call heartless Mr Bludger and inform him that animals, like people, were innocent until proven guilty.
His mobile phone went straight to voicemail, so she tried Hamilton Park. Freya answered on the first ring.
‘Kat? What a lovely surprise. His Lordship will be sorry to have missed you. He’s out of the country, but I’ll tell him you called when he’s back. Can I pass on a message?’
‘What about V?’ Kat asked on impulse. ‘Is he there?’
There was a pause. ‘Who’s V?’
‘Never mind,’ Kat said quickly. ‘Freya, I know it’s an odd question, but have you noticed anyone at Hamilton Park wearing blue shoelaces?’
The PA laughed. ‘I’ve heard some funny questions in my time, but that tops them all. Why do you want to know?’
Kat decided that honesty was the policy most likely to get results. ‘When we were staying with you, Harper heard two people discussing buying striped T-shirts and white plastic carvings. We’ve just found out that some criminals use that as code for buying illegal tiger skins and ivory. So, you see, it’s quite important.’
‘I hope to goodness you’re mistaken,’ Freya said worriedly. ‘His Lordship would go berserk if he thought that those sorts of conversations were taking place under his roof. As you know, he’s obsessed with saving wildlife. Let me think. Rosalia in accounts has trainers in every colour of the rainbow, but she has ten cats so I doubt—’
‘They were men,’ Kat interrupted.
‘Hmm. In PR, Jay Read has taken to wearing purple laces with his brogues. Even the Grim Reaper – that’s my nickname for one of the civil servants in the Department for the Environment – has an attachment to coloured laces. Are they blue or are they orange? I can’t remember, to be honest. I remember thinking it surprising because he’s the dullest man in existence. Sir Haslemere was in gold laces last time he visited. He’s in hospital, you know. Rushed in for an emergency op last night. Now him I can imagine buying tiger skins and ivory, but, then, maybe I’m biased. In any case, I will let you know if I spot any blue laces at Hamilton Park.’
‘Kat, I have to show you this!’ cried her mum, rushing into the room. She stopped when she saw that Kat was on a call.
‘Thanks, Freya – just tell my grandfather I rang,’ said Kat and switched off her phone.
Her mum smiled. ‘Keeping in touch with His Lordship?’
‘Trying to,’ said Kat. ‘He’s abroad.’
Her mum sat down beside her. ‘I wanted to show you this. It’s a plaster cast of the paw print of an endangered Iberian lynx.’
Kat ran her fingers over the hollows in the smooth plaster, imagining the leathery pads and razor claws of the wild cat. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘Last weekend, I found a partial paw print at Wiley Evans’s farm. A university friend who specializes in felines has just confirmed its species. I haven’t said anything until now because I didn’t want to get your hopes up.’
‘An Iberian lynx is on the loose in Bluebell Bay?’ said Kat excitedly, feeling a pang of guilt that she hadn’t told her mum about the wild cat she’d seen when she was out searching for Tiny. Nor had she mentioned seeing Mario Rossi near the farm, with a rifle-shaped bag. Had she known the lynx was endangered, she’d have alerted her mother right away. ‘That’s what’s been attacking the sheep? Where could it have escaped from?’
‘A zoo or maybe a private collector. If it was being kept illegally, they might not have wanted to tell the police it had escaped in case they were prosecuted.’
‘But even if it’s never found, this paw print cast proves that Tiny and Pax are innocent, doesn’t it, Mum? Mr Bludger will have to believe us now.’
‘Sadly, nothing but an actual living, breathing lynx will convince that miserable man to release our cat and collie. We need physical proof.’
‘Then we’ll just have to get it.’
Kat expected her mum to demur. Instead Dr Wolfe said, ‘Yes, and we’ll need to move fast. Whoever stole or lost the lynx is most probably hunting for it and could return, armed, at any time. They’re unlikely to want to part with their valuable cat so we’ll need to tread carefully. Let’s leave at twilight. Dress in black.’
The relief Kat felt at having her mum take charge was quite overwhelming. She wished she’d remembered that where animals were concerned, her mum was always in her corner.
‘Good thing I spotted that paragraph in today’s Bluebell Bay Gazette about a motorist claiming to have seen an enormous spotted cat near Bob Carmichael’s farm,’ said Dr Wolfe as they walked up a lane striped with swaying shadows. ‘We’ll start here and go to Wiley’s farm afterwards if we have no luck.’
An enormous spotted cat.
All at once, Kat knew exactly why Mario Rossi was in Bluebell Bay. She’d been so devastated about her pets being dragged away by Mr Bludger that she’d failed to make the connection between the ‘spots spotted’ message she’d heard in Mario’s motorhome and the spotted cat that had sprung at her. The numbers in the message must have been map coordinates! That’s why Mario had been studying the farm outbuildings with binoculars, and why he’d been so irritated to see her. He’d been hunting the lynx.
Everything made sense if he were a wildlife trafficker. Was he part of a gang stealing and selling endangered animals – alive or dead – to criminals in the Far East? Was Mr Bojangles stolen too?
‘Mum . . .’ she began as they reached the gates of the farm.
But Dr Wolfe held up a hand. ‘Sorry, Kat – I thought I heard something. Are you OK to wait by the barn? Don’t go inside. I’ll need to ask Bob Carmichael’s permission to search it. It might be simpler if I do that on my own.’
As Kat neared the barn, she thought she heard a growl. Worried that the lynx might get away again, and Tiny and Pax would be locked up forever, she stepped through the dark doorway. The air was heavy with the sweet smell of hay – and something else. Something wild. The hairs stood up on the back of Kat’s neck. The lynx was behind her. She sensed it. Before she could retreat and wait for her mum, a silhouette sharpened into focus. A man was aiming a high-powered rifle at her. There was a silencer on it. Her mum wouldn’t hear a thing.
‘Don’t move,’ Mario said softly. ‘Don’t even breathe.’
Then he fired.
The bullet passed so close to Kat’s cheek that she felt it scorch by like a mini comet. She barely had time to take in that she was still alive when the lynx thudded into the straw. It lay motionless, eyes empty. Kat screamed and screamed.
Dr Wolfe burst in, taking in Kat’s terrified face, the lynx on the ground and Mario Rossi’s smoking gun. After rushing to give her daughter a consoling hug, she smiled at the Italian. ‘If you’re who I think you are – boy, am I glad to see you.’
Kat gasped as Mario stepped forward to shake her mum’s hand. ‘Dr Wolfe, I presume? I’m Mario Rossi. Apologies. I think I gave Kat an awful scare.’
Kat found her voice at last. ‘I do a bit of pet-sitting for Mario. I saw him near Wiley’s farm yesterday and was afraid he might be a hunter.’
Her mum laughed. ‘He’s the opposite of a hunter. In conservation circles, Mario Rossi’s a legend. He’s one of the finest wildlife crime detectives in the world.’
Kat was impressed but bewildered. If Mario was such a hero, what had he been doing with the camouflage kayak? Was that a coincidence too?
‘Your mum is very kind, Kat, but, like the two of you, I’m only doing what I can to save animals. Sorry I couldn’t be more truthful with you about my reasons for visiting Bluebell Bay.
‘Two weeks ago, an endangered lynx was stolen from a zoo in Devon. There was nothing on CCTV and the zoo claimed they’d lost its paperwork, so the police suspected an insurance scam, or that they were selling animals to wildlife traffickers to raise cash. A couple of days later, a van with traces of lynx fur and blood in the back was found abandoned not far from Bluebell Bay. I was dispatched immediately to try and track her down.
‘The Jurassic Dragon crowds complicated matters. If news that a wild cat had escaped here had gone viral, it would have caused mass panic. Added to which, trigger-happy farmers, hunters and poachers would have descended on your pretty town. I had to do the whole thing on the quiet.’
Dr Wolfe put her jacket over the lynx’s tawny body. ‘With your permission, Mario, I’d like to get her to my clinic as fast as possible to give her some fluids and a thorough health check before you move her. I presume you have a safe place in mind?’
‘Yes, we do. Thanks, Dr Wolfe. I’d appreciate any help you can give her.’ He glanced at Kat. ‘Could I respectfully ask you both to keep her capture between yourselves?’
‘Mum, what about Tiny and Pax?’ Kat said fearfully. ‘If we can’t say that a lynx was responsible for the sheep worrying, how will we free them from animal control?’
‘I heard about an animal control officer snatching a cat and dog from a child,’ said Mario. ‘If they were yours, Kat, I’m very sorry – especially since you’ve been so wonderful with Mr B. Leave it to me. I’ll talk to the farmers. When I’m done presenting them each with compensation for the loss of their sheep, they’ll be delighted to tell the officer that it was all a bad dream.’
Kat brushed Orkaan until her coat shone like silk and planted a kiss on her velvety black muzzle. It was Friday afternoon, nine days since the Swanns had arrived in Bluebell Bay. The actor hadn’t come to ride the mare once.
‘If he doesn’t show up tomorrow, I’m taking you to the beach and we’ll race along the edge of the waves,’ Kat told her. ‘It’s not fair of Ethan to expect you to be cooped up here while he’s out enjoying himself. Every horse needs to feel the wind in its mane.’
Up at the house, she found Harper flipping through Nature World with Bailey on her shoulder. ‘Edith came by with these. Remember how Harry Holt ruined the library copy of The Sixth Extinction and left her The Hobbit and a bunch of old magazines as compensation? Turns out the magazines are packed with Johnny’s stories. I wonder if Harry actually gave them to Edith for safekeeping – in case something happened to him.’
Kat helped herself to a coconut macaroon. ‘Wouldn’t they be online?’
‘Yes, but, before his arrest, Harry had become a virtual hermit. Maybe he didn’t have the internet or even a computer. What if Johnny hid clues about the story he was investigating in amongst his cute tips on insect hotels? Clues that only he and Harry could understand.’
‘A secret code, you mean?’
‘Uh-huh. Although I’ve tried a few of the most common, and nothing’s worked so far. There’s the Nth Letter code, where every tenth letter, say, spells out “SOS”. Or Acrostic, where the message is in the first letter of every word. You can also switch letters of the alphabet so “Q” means “A”. But even easy codes can take forever to figure out.’
Kat opened her notebook. ‘Let’s take another look at our mini mysteries. Maybe this time, we’ll see a connection.’
She found the page on which she’d drawn a ring of balloons, each containing a mystery. Now she drew two new balloons, labelling them: ‘The Mystery of the Man in the Blue Laces’ and ‘The Mystery of Patient X’. After a moment, she added another: ‘The Bluefin Tuna Mystery’.
An electric tingle ran through her.
‘What?’ cried Harper. ‘What is it?’
‘I’ve been a class-A dunce, that’s what.’
‘Why? What have you seen? Tell me!’
‘The connection – it’s been staring us in the face all along.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Harper. ‘What does Blue Shoelace Man have in common with bluefin tuna, apart from the colour . . . ? Oh, wait. Make that two class-A dunces. The answer’s so obvious, I’m going to write it in your notebook with a pink neon marker.’
And she did:
Kat began pacing round the model dinosaur. ‘Ten of our thirteen mini mysteries are linked to extinction. We know that the Order of Dragons have been buying rare fossils for centuries, and that the dragon key card we found is their symbol. Kai’s sure that they’re the ones blackmailing Dr Liu into making dragon’s teeth potions for Patient X. And we’re sure that whoever blew up the cliff did it to uncover the Jurassic Dragon or other fossils, and that Ollie and the thief who tried to steal the long chi were trading dinosaur bones on the black market. Every one of those things is about extinct creatures.’
Harper said excitedly, ‘Plus, the man with blue laces was taking orders for rhino horn and tiger skin – from animals that’ll soon be extinct in the wild. If only we could identify him, it might unlock another piece of the puzzle. Any word from your grandfather?’
‘He texted last night to say he’d ring when . . .’ Kat stopped mid-sentence as her gaze fell on Johnny’s fox story. ‘You know that saying about not letting foxes guard henhouses?’
‘Uh . . . no? Why, because they’d eat the chickens?’
‘No. I mean, yes – but I don’t mean real foxes. If you wanted to buy or sell endangered animal products, and you also happened to work for the government, where would you try to get a job?’
Harper let out a squeak of horror. ‘The Department for the Environment! Surely no one would be that . . . calculating?’
‘But what if they were?’ said Kat. ‘Working on the inside, they could make deals with poachers or help them get away with crimes and get their hands on confiscated ivory or whatever. Freya thought she’d seen the man who works for the Department for the Environment wearing coloured laces. She called him the Grim Reaper. Apparently, he’s the dullest man in the universe, but that could be an act. Dull people don’t get noticed. She couldn’t remember his real name.’
‘On it,’ said Harper, opening her laptop and searching for ‘Department for the Environment staff ’.
As soon as they saw his photo, they were sure they had the right man. Lucian Rigley, Programme Manager for International Wildlife Outreach.
‘Looks like the Grim Reaper,’ said Harper. ‘Looks like the type who’d want a tiger-skin rug in his library, too.’
‘But is he also the type who’d be a member of a society that thinks dinosaur teeth can cure cancer?’ asked Kat. ‘Is he capable of blackmail? Don’t forget, we were wrong about Harry in the beginning.’
‘True, but gut instinct tells me we’re on to something with Lucian Rigley,’ said Harper. ‘I do hope your grandfather calls soon. If Mr Rigley is a snake-oil salesman who deals in rhino horn, he’s capable of anything. But unless we can get some proof, he’ll get away with it.’
‘We can’t give up,’ said Kat. ‘We’re so close. I can feel it.’
&n
bsp; ‘We’d better be,’ her friend said worriedly. ‘Kai’s counting on us to save him and his dad before they’re “eliminated”.’
Kat’s phone cheeped in the pocket of her breeches. She cheered when she read the message, tossing it on to the sofa before dancing round the room. ‘That was Mum. Tiny’s coming ho-o-ome,’ she sang. ‘Pax is coming ho-o-ome!’
‘That’s fantastic news!’ said Harper, laughing. ‘I’ll keep thinking about secret codes and foxes in henhouses. You go, go, go, Detective Wolfe!’
‘Are you sure? They’re not coming for hours, but I’d like to get their food and beds ready. Keep me posted, Detective Lamb. We’ll solve the case – I know we will. My grandfather says that even dragons have their endings.’
After Kat had gone, Harper remembered where she’d seen that quote before. She found it in Harry’s copy of The Hobbit.
‘So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings.’
It was the third time the book had come up in the past week. Freya had mentioned that Sir Haslemere had requested a first edition of The Hobbit when he came to stay at Hamilton Park. If there was a secret code, perhaps it was in J. R. R. Tolkien’s book.
After emailing Jasper to ask for advice on cracking codes, Harper started a spreadsheet listing the mini mysteries linked to extinction. If she added in the lynx mystery, now solved, there were eleven:
The Order of Dragons Mystery
The Disappearing Dragon Card Mystery
The Coded Conversation Mystery
The Father and Son Mystery
The Who Bought Ollie Merriweather Lobster and Champagne Mystery
The Mystery of Who Blew Up the Cliff
The Mystery of Who Killed Johnny Roswell
The Mystery of the Man in the Blue Laces
The Mystery of Patient X
Kat Wolfe Takes the Case Page 16
