by Sarah Lean
First, Tiger and Tom interviewed May Days.
“When and where was the last time you saw Holly?” Tiger asked.
“I saw her running down the garden at night, about four days ago.”
“Have you seen someone or something carrying eggs? Or stealing socks?” Tom asked.
“No,” said May Days. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good witness.”
Tom giggled and assured her she had been an egg-cellent eggs-pert!
Next they interviewed Grumps. He hadn’t seen Holly, not for a week. Tiger’s tummy felt a little hollow, a bit like a thin eggshell.
“Have you seen someone or something carrying eggs?” Tiger said.
“Yes,” Grumps said. “Me.”
“Are you the egg thief?” said Tom.
“Certainly not!” said Grumps, with a twinkle in his eye. Neither had he taken Tiger’s socks.
Tiger suggested Tom didn’t jump to any conclusions.
“Mr Grandfather Grumps,” said Tiger politely, “where do you get your eggs?”
“From my neighbours, Mr and Mrs Cox,” Grumps said. “They have chickens in their garden.”
Mr and Mrs Cox lived in a cottage along the lane and sold eggs from a fold-up table outside their gate. Grumps needed some eggs for baking and thought the children ought to go and pay them a visit. He also suggested they borrow his old bike to carry the detective tools that Tom had now collected: binoculars for a stake-out, gloves to avoid damaging any evidence or leaving any of their own fingerprints, a torch for dark and dusty places, and the magnifying glass.
The bicycle was actually a big creaky tricycle. It had three wheels, one saddle, two handles and a large wicker basket strapped to the front for carrying groceries or detective equipment. Tom sat on the saddle and pedalled while Tiger stood on the bar between the wheels at the back with her hands on Tom’s shoulders. Tiger’s scarf flapped as they whizzed down the lane to interview new witnesses.
Immediately a clue presented itself at Mr and Mrs Cox’s gate. An egg box on the table was open. There were only five eggs inside when there should have been six. Tom inspected all over with the magnifying glass but there were no prints.
The children knocked at the house.
“PET detectives, oh, how useful!” said Mrs Cox, reading the children’s badges. “But we haven’t lost any chickens.”
Tom showed them all the objects in the basket, explaining what they were for, and told them that he and Tiger were investigating a lost cat, some found eggs and some stolen socks.
“At first we thought it might be a dinosaur egg—” continued Tom, before Tiger interrupted, keen to interview Mr and Mrs Cox.
“Did you know there’s an egg missing from the box on your table?”
“Not again!” said Mr Cox. The same thing had happened several times in recent weeks, but they hadn’t seen who was doing it.
“Also, have you found a white cat?” Tiger asked. “She’s got a wavy tail and is extremely clever.”
“Yes, that’ll be Twinkle who sometimes visits,” said Mr Cox fondly, which made Tiger scowl. “Is she your cat?”
“Her name is Holly actually,” said Tiger, trying not to pout. She wasn’t able to say the cat belonged to her, but it hurt that Holly had found new friends. “Holly lives at Willowgate and I miss her.”
Mr and Mrs Cox were very sorry, but they hadn’t seen the cat for days. Tom thought that the next job for a detective would be to stake out the eggs to catch the culprit.
Mr and Mrs Cox sold them a fresh box of six eggs to take back to Grumps and wished the children luck with solving their cases.
Tiger and Tom hid a little further down the lane behind a hedge with the binoculars trained on the table.
They waited for more than an hour but nobody came for the bait. Tom was such a f idget and wouldn’t stop talking about making a detective office and Tiger was feeling quite upset to think that Holly – not Twinkle! – wasn’t as loyal as she would have liked.
Tom giggled to himself.
“If we see Holly, we could tail her,” he said, rolling about laughing. Quiet surveillance was not his best skill.
“I want to go now,” said Tiger. Nothing seemed funny when the cat she was fond of could so easily forget about her.
Back at Grumps’s house, Tiger became more and more anxious that none of the clues were leading her closer to the beloved cat. The children sat at the table in the kitchen to eat the cakes that Grumps had made, but it was hard for Tiger to swallow with a lump in her throat. Had Holly purposefully ignored Tiger because she’d made some better new friends? Was Holly not the friend Tiger thought she was? Tom told some more jokes to cheer up Tiger. He said that he’d thought of a new invention and asked if she’d like to help make it, but Tiger said no. Tom went very quiet then and Tiger trudged back to Willowgate with her heart full of hurt things.
Tiger found May Days in the kitchen and climbed on her lap for comfort and told her she was worried that Holly didn’t want to be her friend any more.
“Could you be jumping to conclusions?” asked May Days. “Tom is also a good friend,” said May Days, “but when you two are not together are you happy for him to have other friends, so he’s not lonely?”
“Yes,” said Tiger. “It’s just that I’m missing Holly so much …” Tiger’s chin trembled.
“Well, maybe Holly misses you as much as you miss her,” said May Days, stroking Tiger’s hair.
“Do you really think so?” said Tiger hopefully.
Mays Days smiled warmly. “Holly kept going to the gate watching the lane for days after you left last time.”
May Days was sure Holly was around somewhere and that there must be a very good reason why she hadn’t come to say hello yet.
After a while May Days said, “Are you still interested in my special things in the red box?”
“Yes,” said Tiger. “Is today a special day for showing me?”
“Does it feel like a special day?” said May Days.
“Not especially,” said Tiger glumly.
“In that case you need to make it one!” said May Days. “So what would be a special day for a detective?”
Tiger smiled for the first time in hours.
“Being clever and finding a really good answer to why Holly hasn’t come to see me,” said Tiger. “But not on my own.”
Tiger decided she wanted to see Tom. She realised she hadn’t been a very good friend earlier and it wasn’t fair to make Tom feel bad. Tiger knew Tom was really just trying to cheer her up when he made a joke about Holly, and she wanted to tell him that she did want to help make his invention.
As she went outside, she heard a bell tinkle. There was a short step-ladder in front of the beech tree that hadn’t been there before, and a bell was ringing up in the branches. Tiger climbed up to see what it was. Tied to a branch was an old washing line looped through a pulley-wheel. The line went over the hedge and all the way up to Tom’s bedroom window. Hanging from the line was a peg-bag with a bell sewn on and a note pegged to it.
So this was the invention Tom wanted to build! Tiger reached for the note and read it:
Tiger laughed to herself, glad that they both had grandparents to help them.
She wrote a note back to Tom, attached it to the bag and then pulled the line so that the Peg-Bag-Pulley went all the way back to Tom’s bedroom. The bell rang in the distance as it stopped at the other end. Tiger’s note said:
“How did your whole day turn out?” May Days asked later that evening. “Was anything special?”
“Some of it wasn’t very happy and lots of it was, but I think tomorrow already feels like it’s going to be a special day.” Before going to bed, Tiger scattered some more cat biscuits at the front of the house … just in case.
Tiger woke up with a feeling that today would be a good day for thinking cleverly with her friend Tom. Tom wanted to continue investigating the case of the Mysterious Eggs and Stolen Socks. He still thought Holly should be on t
he list of suspects for both thefts, for now, because of the cat paw print they’d found near the egg in the ground. Tiger agreed they should keep working on all the cases, feeling absolutely sure that a clue from either one would definitely lead to solving the most important case of all – finding Holly.
Tiger also added two new rules to the PET detective list, so now there were five:
“And we still need a detective office. I think we should make one in the Staring Oat Shed!” said Tom.
“Not the Staring Oat Shed again,” sighed Tiger. They’d been there before to try to make a den. The old shed was dark and dusty and Tiger was afraid of the great big monster called the Staring Oat that Tom said lived there. With bright green eyes, it would stare at you so hard that it made you dizzy and fall over.
“All we have to do is go down there and defeat the monster first,” said Tom bravely.
“How do you know the Staring Oat definitely lives in the shed?” Tiger wondered.
“I saw it at Willowgate ages ago when I was staying with Grumps,” said Tom. It was long before he’d met Tiger. Once, he and Grumps had been watching for bats at night and Tom had seen the frightful eyes glaring back at him through the binoculars. “We used to come in the garden sometimes before May Days moved in.”
If Tom had seen the Staring Oat then that made him an eye-witness and meant that the monster was real.
“We’re detectives,” said Tom, trying to encourage Tiger. “We need to find clues, search in places where nobody goes and interview witnesses.” He gasped. “What if … the Staring Oat has kidnapped Holly?!”
Tiger was afraid of the Staring Oat, but she would do anything to find Holly. Tiger took a deep breath and said, “OK, but if we’re going to meet the Staring Oat, then we need armour.” Something that would make them seem bigger and stronger than Tiger felt.
Like detective knights on horseback, Tom pedalled on the tricycle and Tiger stood behind him. With one hand on Tom’s shoulder, Tiger held out a long broom with stiff bristles in front of them and Tom tied a tray to his arm as a shield for protection. Slowly the tricycle flattened a path through the long grass and into the great unexplored part of the garden.
As they got closer to the shed, they found two good clues. Lying on the ground, a little dirty and crumpled, were Tiger’s stolen socks.
“Our best clue yet!” said Tom. “This must be the right way to find the thief.”
Tiger picked up the socks and inspected them with the magnifier. There were lots of small holes and tears in them.
“Holly’s claws?” said Tom. “Or the Staring Oat’s teeth?”
“Holly definitely didn’t steal the socks,” said Tiger.
“How can you be sure?” said Tom.
Tiger made Tom look closely through the magnifier. “Hairs!” They weren’t white like Holly’s fur. They were orange.
“What colour is the Staring Oat?” gulped Tiger.
Tom shrugged. “I only saw its glowing eyes.”
On they went, even more slowly and cautiously now.
Next they found some eggshells. Wide-eyed, Tiger and Tom now knew they were on the right track and Tom pedalled hard, pushing through the long grass. But what were they going to find?
“Stop!” whispered Tiger, when she saw the shed above the tall grass.
“Remember, don’t look into the Staring Oat’s eyes,” said Tom.
They climbed off the tricycle and parted the grass to crouch and peep. There, in a small clearing, was what they had searched for and hoped to find. Holly! Tiger was about to jump up when Tom caught her scarf and pulled her down.
“Someone else is there,” he whispered, and they stayed hidden in case it was the monster.
Holly waved her tail in the air, her ears pricked as she looked off to the side where the grasses were rustling and twitching. Holly was not alone, but she hadn’t been kidnapped by the Staring Oat. Holly pounced, and out from the grasses leapt another creature. Orange-coloured, with a triangular face and ears and a long bushy tail tipped in white, a fox was playing hide-and-seek with Holly.
Enormously relieved to find the adored cat, Tiger couldn’t bear it any longer. “Holly!” she called happily, springing out from the grasses and running over to be reunited with her other holiday friend. “I missed you so much, Holly Days!” she said, holding the soft white cat in her arms who purred and purred, while the startled fox slipped quickly under the shed.
“May Days!” Tiger called up to the roof. “We found Holly!”
May Days came down from the roof on hearing the good news and they all went to the kitchen. Tiger and Tom gabbled the whole story about how they found Holly playing with a fox. May Days had left a nature book on the table with the pages left open on wildlife footprints. Tiger identified the pawprint they’d found in the earth by the first egg. It wasn’t from a cat, it was from a fox.
Tom pointed to the picture of the fox that had a long triangular nose and a mouth that was much bigger than a cat’s.
“I think we finally have proof that it was the fox who stole and buried the eggs, as well as stealing the socks,” said Tiger. She looked at Holly, who sat beside the egg, still nestled in a cloth on the table, patting it gently with her paw to see if she could make it roll. Tiger still wasn’t comfortable thinking of any creature as a thief, though.
The children thought they ought to tell Mr and Mrs Cox about the fox, so they set off down the drive on the tricycle. Holly didn’t want to sit in the basket but was happy to race alongside them, back with her old friends again.
Mr and Mrs Cox were pleased to see Holly too. They stroked her but she went straight back to winding herself round Tiger’s legs, rolling on her back and letting Tiger tickle her tummy.
Tiger explained Holly had made friends with a fox, which was probably why nobody else had seen much of her. She and Tom showed them the holey socks, the wildlife book and the egg shells, proof that the fox had been the culprit. Mr and Mrs Cox said their chickens had always been safe from the fox in their coop and run, but the eggs for sale would now be stored in a cool box with a lid.
“Why do you think the fox went under the shed?” May Days asked.
“Because it’s made a den there,” said Tiger. Tom slumped a little huffily over the table.
“But the shed was supposed to be our detective office,” he said, with his nose in May Days’ wildlife book, although he admitted that he admired the clever fox for being bold enough to make a den beneath the Staring Oat Shed.
“Why aren’t Holly or the fox afraid of the Staring Oat?” said Tiger.
“A good question for PET detectives,” said May Days. “And I think you are just beginning to make an important discovery about the fox.”
“Is it because foxes are brave?” said Tom, wrinkling his unsure nose. Could you be a thief and brave at the same time?
“Or, maybe the Staring Oat isn’t there,” said Tiger. “Maybe … it’s gone on holiday!”
Just like Tiger and Tom came to stay for the holidays, maybe the Staring Oat went away to stay with someone else too. Did Staring Oats have grandparents?
Nothing could be answered just yet – they would have to do some more detective work tomorrow. Tiger and Tom wanted to be sure that while the fox was living under the shed it was safe and undisturbed. Tom asked if he could borrow the wildlife book to see if he could find out any more useful information and Tiger opened a new case in their notebook:
That evening Tiger sat on May Days’ lap, with Holly on hers, saying she’d had a very special day as she was back with her treasured cat. Intrigued and excited about the new investigation she would pursue tomorrow, Tiger felt quite content.
“When I find out the important discovery about the fox, will you show me your special things?” Tiger said, as solving the case of the missing cat and the case of the mysterious eggs (and stolen socks) seemed reward enough for one day.
Yes, May Days would love to share her own important things when the time was right.
Tiger was excited and up early. The builders had just arrived and they had left their bag of sandwiches on the windowsill of the house while their hands were full carrying tools up to the roof. Tiger froze in her tracks. The fox was slinking stealthily across the lawn.
The fox didn’t see Tiger and, standing on its hind legs with its front paws up on the windowsill, sniffed curiously at the lunch bag. Then, without hesitating, it snatched the bag in its mouth and trotted off down the garden with the prize while the builders’ backs were turned!
Although the fox had only been there for half a minute, it seemed like a special treat to see it, even though it had run off with the lunch. But Tiger worried about the fox getting into trouble for taking the lunch, and the fact that it might run into the Staring Oat. Any friend of Holly’s was now her friend too, so Tiger added some extra questions to the case to investigate:
Tiger wrote a short note – Hurry up and get out of bed, Detective Tom! – and sent it to Tom in the Peg-Bag-Pulley. She heard the bell in the distance, when it jingled against his window and, before long, Tom arrived in his detective raincoat and hat.
Tiger first wanted to find out if the builders liked foxes before she told them who had taken their lunch. Tiger and Tom prepared a replacement lunch by making some cheese and crisp sandwiches and pouring glasses of lemonade, bobbing with apple chunks and ice cubes.
The new witnesses were called Henry and James, father and son, and they were just coming down with May Days from the scaffolding for lunch. They were impressed by the children’s badges and the cases they had already solved.
With notepad ready, Tiger asked them some questions:
“While you have been working up on the roof, did you see a big scary creature with glaring, glowing eyes?”
