by Ulf Nilsson
She badly wanted a cake. Her slim little arm crept across the table. The detective’s eyes were closed. She was about to snatch one when the detective lifted his finger and said, “I see you!”
Just then Buffy had an idea and she brightened.
She pulled the detective close and whispered in his ear.
“Yes,” said Detective Gordon. “You’ve come up with a fresh new idea! That’s what we’ll do! And now you may stamp!”
Buffy took the stamp from the drawer, and placed it carefully on the paper. And even more carefully than the detective, she moved it a smidgeon to the right and then a smidgeon to the left. And she pressed. Kla-dunk! She smiled proudly.
“Bravo,” said the detective. “I am very proud of you.”
And then the two police friends ate the two cakes.
One trap. One thief.
Detective Gordon thought Buffy’s idea was excellent. It had something to do with the cakes on the table. And with someone who closed their eyes and someone who was peckish.
In other words, it was a trap!
First they had to borrow twenty nuts from various mice and squirrels.
Then they would make a beautiful nut pyramid beside the path in the forest.
They would write on a sign: These nuts belong to Buffy. Taking these nuts is absolutely forbidden.
The significant thief might fall into the trap. He might sneak up and take off with the nuts. Or she might. Or they.
But then Detective Gordon and Buffy would sneak after them and see where the nuts were hidden.
They would catch the thief. Or thieves. And they would get the squirrel’s nuts back.
Buffy was so pleased with her idea that she giggled constantly as they planned.
They had to make one or two small changes.
“We can’t borrow the nuts,” said the detective. “In case the mice and squirrels become suspicious. We’d be borrowing them from the very types who could be our thieves. And they might not fall for our trap…”
“We can borrow them from another forest, in another police district!” said Buffy.
“We could make the nut pyramid right outside the police station’s window,” said the detective. “Then I can quietly drink tea and look out through the window.”
“No, for cats’ sake!” said Buffy. “No thief would dare to steal right outside a police station.”
The detective was a little hurt. After all, he was the chief of police. And “cats’ sake” is the worst thing a mouse can say.
Buffy noticed the detective’s face clouding over.
“But that’s a very good idea,” she said. “We can place the pyramid a tiny bit further away, but so you can still see it from the window. And then I’ll make tea for you.”
The detective was a little happier.
They took a toboggan and went to another forest. Not the one where the fox lived, but in the other direction. There they found a family of field mice who could lend them twenty top-quality hazelnuts. They pulled their heavy load back home again.
The detective wrote the sign. He thought for a moment of putting the stamp on it, but that might be going a bit far. Still, it was a very fine stamp, with the words Detective Gordon in it. In the middle was a royal crown. The detective didn’t actually know what the crown was doing there, but it seemed powerful and no one had questioned it.
Buffy stacked the nuts into a beautiful pyramid a little way from the police station. The detective pushed the sign into the snow.
The sun went down. It began to get dark. It was the perfect time for thieves! Dark enough for them to dare to steal, but light enough for them to read the sign and understand that these nuts belonged to someone else.
The detective sat at the window. He was tired. It had been unusually hard work pulling the nuts on the toboggan, perhaps because he hadn’t done it before.
While the water was still simmering in the kettle, he fell asleep. His head drooped and hit the windowsill. But with Buffy there, he couldn’t admit it had happened, so he cleared his throat slightly and swept up a little earth that had fallen from the pot of geraniums.
There was going to be a bump on his forehead.
As they drank tea at the window, he perked up. They ate their evening and night cakes, the dark ones with blackcurrant jam.
“It’s good to have different cakes at different times,” said the detective. “Police work goes on all hours of day and night, but according to the type of cake you know what time it is.”
Buffy stowed that away in her memory because she enjoyed police work and wanted to be a detective one day. Maybe even chief of police…
Then Detective Gordon fell asleep again. But this time he had leaned back because he didn’t want to hit his bumped head again. He woke to hear himself snoring. Embarrassing! Buffy didn’t seem to have noticed, but she was smiling to herself.
“I have a slightly sore throat,” said the detective, in case she had heard any strange sounds.
He was about to fall asleep again, this time to one side, but he didn’t get there because Buffy cried, “There’s the thief!”
And so it was. Out in the night, a dark figure was picking nuts from the pile.
Quick as a wink, the detective was on his feet. He even managed to answer Buffy before she’d asked the question: “No, not the pistol.”
A thief goes to prison. For a moment.
They went out into the snow. It was very cold outside. The chill bit their cheeks and they looked like two puffing steam engines.
Then they had to creep after the thief. Quietly, quietly was the way to do it. They saw him up ahead with four nuts in his arms. He was following the path. Or she.
Then he trudged into the forest. And over to the pine tree with the hole in it.
“What?”
Now the thief began to climb. It was clearly very difficult with four nuts. Wasn’t it a squirrel?
“Stop! In the name of the law!” called Detective Gordon and Buffy at the same time.
It was a squirrel! It was the squirrel himself. And he was so scared that nuts flew everywhere.
“Help!” cried the squirrel.
The detective went over to him and said, “Squirrel. You’re under arrest for theft! Come with me at once to the prison.”
The squirrel started to cry. Tears rolled down his soft cheeks where they immediately froze to ice. Small pearls fell to the ground.
“Bother,” said the detective. “Come with me now, and you can have a cup of tea. But you’ll have to carry the nuts back all by yourself.”
When they got back, Buffy stacked them in the pyramid.
By the time they reached the police station, the squirrel had regained his courage. He was even plucky.
“You don’t really think I’ve stolen my own nuts?” he said.
“We think only that you’ve stolen nuts from our pile,” said the detective. “Now we need to question you. I’m sorry but you’ll have to sit on the floor.”
The squirrel sat down and stared crossly at the police.
“What is your name?” asked Buffy.
“Vladimir,” said the squirrel.
The detective took notes.
“Where do you live?”
“Dash it, you know where I live! Just over there.”
The detective wrote that down.
“Why did you steal our nuts?” asked Buffy.
The squirrel sighed. Then he started a long story.
“You don’t understand how much I miss my lost nuts. I have 15,704 nuts. But 204 of them have been gone since last night. It’s like having 204 small children who failed to come home. And I don’t know where they’re living. Are they all right or are they suffering? I miss them so much, and I can’t think about anything but my lost nuts. Don’t you have children of your own?”
Both shook their heads.
The squirrel continued his complicated story. Sometimes the detective didn’t know if he was talking about real children or about nuts. Sometimes
new creatures appeared in the hole in the tree, or perhaps they were nuts, and then they disappeared again.
The detective didn’t interrupt. Neither did Buffy. She wanted to become a proper policewoman.
Sometimes they said a small “Uh-huh” to keep the squirrel going.
The squirrel knew all his nuts by sight, he said. He had names for them all. He even celebrated their birthdays.
“Don’t you eat them?” asked Buffy.
“Yes,” said the squirrel. “If I must. But only because of hunger.”
Then the story continued. Now it was about love and passion.
“You know, of course, what love is?” asked the squirrel.
“I’m too old,” said the detective with a sigh.
“I’m too young,” said Buffy.
“Oh, it pains my heart so much to lose the only thing that matters to a squirrel. Nuts.”
And he went on like this until the detective fell asleep onto the desk and cried “Ouch” because he had landed right on his bump.
“I’ve hardly slept the last few nights,” he explained, feeling ashamed.
Now the police had to decide. What should they do?
“You who love nuts so much,” said the detective, “you of all people should understand what it feels like to have them stolen. Especially when there’s a sign. Now you must sit in prison…”
The squirrel’s face grew longer and he was on the verge of tears again.
“…for a moment!” said the detective. “A quarter of an hour or so. You can take whichever bed you choose. And you’ll think about how someone feels when they’ve been burgled.”
“I can lock the door,” said Buffy.
“No,” said the detective. “I don’t like locked prisons.”
“Can I do the stamping then?”
“No,” said the detective shortly. “It’s my turn.”
The detective was always a little grumpy when he was tired. He stamped very carefully, moving the stamp a little here, a little there. Kla-dunk!
The squirrel called Vladimir walked dejectedly into the prison. His tail dragged on the floor.
Then Buffy noticed something outside the window. She whispered excitedly to the detective, “There are the thieves!”
The real thieves.
Detective Gordon and Buffy came out into the snow. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dark. But then they made out two dark figures, laughing. One of them pulled up the sign, read it, burst out in a braying laugh, and threw it on the ground.
“It’s the real thieves,” said Buffy.
“I’m sorry to say it is,” said the detective.
The thieves loaded themselves up with nuts and went staggering off. The two police followed.
Phew, how cold it was now! The detective regretted leaving his gloves behind.
They had gone a fair way when Buffy stopped.
“We really must take the pistol with us, chief!”
“No, not the pistol!”
“Why not? Why do you always say that?”
The detective put his hands on his hips and looked gravely at Buffy.
“To take the pistol one must be very wise and very careful. It’s dangerous.”
Buffy jumped up and down angrily. The thieves were disappearing between the trees. But she badly wanted them to have the pistol.
She would have it.
“But you’re very wise and very careful, chief.”
Detective Gordon held up his finger. He had something important to say.
“The one who is really wise and very careful doesn’t take it with him!” said the detective. “It’s dangerous.”
Far, far away they could hear the thieves laughing. But Buffy wouldn’t give up.
“Why is it in the glass cabinet then? Why don’t you throw it away?”
“In case someone finds it and hurts themselves. It is safest locked up in the police station.”
Now they finally went on. They followed the tracks. Buffy ran ahead.
The detective found it very difficult to hurry in snow. His big flat feet got in the way. What’s more, they were slippery.
A toad should sleep in peace and quiet through the winter, he thought. It’s against nature to carry on like this.
Just then he slipped on a patch of ice and fell on his bottom. Ouch.
He happened to be on a hillside and he began to slide. Oops.
Faster and faster he went. Uh-oh!
He slid full speed into a scrubby bush. Ouff!
Buffy ran over to him.
“Hurry and see where the thieves live!” said the detective, trying to sound heroic. “Just leave me here…”
“No way. Not on your life.”
“But I’m stuck in a bush and I have sore feet and I’m tired. I’m no use to you.”
“We police always stick together,” said Buffy. “I’ll pull you out. And then I’ll carry you…”
She thought about that and changed her mind.
“Support you, I mean. You can’t let me do this on my own. Some of us are faster than others. But you’re indispensable! We police need someone who’s big, wise, and has a very powerful voice.”
The detective felt his heart grow warm and he began working his way out. Buffy pulled his arm.
It was a relentless struggle against small scrubby branches that jabbed and clung. But at last the detective was free of the bush. They limped along, following the tracks of the thieves.
They arrived at a large oak tree with a big hole in it. The thieves were inside—the police could tell because of the cheerful laughter. It was surely the hideout.
“Come out! In the name of the law!” called the detective and his voice was so powerful that he almost frightened himself.
Two grinning faces appeared in the hole. They were indeed two squirrels.
“You’re the ones who have stolen Buffy’s twenty nuts!” called the detective.
“Ha-ha-ha!” came from inside the hole.
“And stolen Vladimir’s 204 nuts.”
“Ha-ha-ha!”
“And the nuts of woodpeckers and jays and mice.”
“Ha-ha-ha!”
The detective and Buffy looked at one another. They nodded. The two squirrels had practically admitted to the crime.
The detective knew what the squirrels were thinking. They were thinking “Ha-ha-ha, we’re so clever!” And they were probably thinking, “Finders, keepers” and “If you can sit on it, you own it!” and “Ha-ha-ha, we’re so smart!”
The detective could practically hear the thoughts behind their boisterous laughter: “We can take whatever we want.” But that would never be so in his police district.
“Come down! In the name of the law!” called the detective. “We must ask you to come with us to the prison.”
Up in the hole, the two squirrels began to laugh even harder.
And they started to nail and hammer sticks across the hole so no one could come in. When they‘d finished, they looked like bars. Prison bars.
“Ha-ha-ha!” they called. “You can’t get us and we’re not coming out!”
Buffy and the detective looked at one another in surprise.
“They’ve put themselves in prison,” said Buffy.
“That works quite well,” said the detective after a moment. “In fact, it’s much better! Though it’s always a little sad when people put themselves in prison…”
Then Buffy suddenly did something curious. She started to dance around and around in front of the hole.
She hummed an annoying rhyme: “Nah-na-na-na-nah-na. You can’t hit me-ee!”
For a moment nothing happened in the hole. Then a nut came flying through the bars.
“You missed me, you missed me!” sang Buffy.
A swarm of nuts came flying!
224 nuts.
It was chaos. Many of the forest animals had been woken up and came to watch. Nuts were flying from the hole. And the hole looked exactly like a prison.
Th
e animals stood in a ring around the oak tree and the white snow was peppered with hazelnuts.
“Stop!” called Detective Gordon. “You’ve thrown out exactly 224 nuts. The exact number you’ve stolen.”
The two squirrels grumbled between themselves. They knew they’d been tricked.
“How many nuts do you have left?” asked the detective.
“12,417,” shouted the squirrels, and they laughed.
“Then there’s nothing more to be done with you,” said the detective. “You can stay inside and eat nuts. And you can think about how it feels to be burgled.”
The squirrels weren’t sure whether to laugh or complain. Imagine sitting in your nest eating nuts—what could be better? They didn’t actually need to go out. But were they truly not allowed to go out? And did they really have to think the whole time about people who’d lost their nuts?
They couldn’t decide what to think, so they laughed impudently at the detective.
“Ha-ha-ha!”
“So, we can go back now and stamp our papers,” said Buffy, nodding.
All the animals helped to gather up the nuts and carry them to the police station. They made one pile of twenty nuts for the detective and Buffy to return by toboggan to the field mice. And another big pile of 204 nuts belonging to Vladimir.
“Thank you very much, all you animals,” said the two police friends and they saluted.
It was lovely to come back to the police station. The detective put more wood on the fire and the embers caught flame. Lovely and warm. Then he put on the kettle.
“Which cakes now?” asked the detective.
“Evening and night cakes,” said Buffy.
They heard someone snoring. The squirrel Vladimir was still asleep in the prison.
“Tell him it’s time for tea and cakes,” said the detective.
After a while the dozy squirrel came out.
“Can I have my nuts? What happened to my nuts?” he asked, confused.
