Casper Candlewacks in the Claws of Crime!

by Ivan Brett

“Where are they?”

  “In the garage.”

  “Oh.”

  “Bit far.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Game of I-Spy?”

  “Not now, Lamp.”

  “S’pose we’ve got time for that later.”

  Nothing happened. Casper’s head throbbed rhythmically, buzzing in his ears once a second. A dozy jackdaw croaked past the window, flapping its wings victoriously. The house creaked and groaned under the weight of unseen shadows and the ghosts of long-dead Blights, but still nothing happened.

  I mean, things happened, yes. But nothing important did, anyway. Basically, it was really boring and went on for ages so we might as well skip Chapter 16 and go straight to the important bit.

  The rough rope dug into Casper’s wrists and burnt the skin. “Oh, I’ll go bonkers if we’re stuck here for any longer. Got any ideas?”

  “Hmmm.” You could tell Lamp was concentrating when his head made grinding noises. “Skiing?”

  “How would that help?”

  “Can’t remember. Albert, got any ideas?”

  Albert squeaked.

  Tiddles meowed.

  Something downstairs scrabbled.

  Casper gasped. “What was that downstairs? Was it Cuddles?”

  “I dunno,” said Lamp. “I’ll ask Albert. Albert, did you hear anything?”

  Albert squeaked.

  Tiddles meowed.

  The thing downstairs scrabbled again.

  “It must be Cuddles. She can hear Tiddles! Ask Alb— Hang on. Who’s Albert?”

  “He’s my rat, remember?” chuckled Lamp. “He’s on my head again. I think he likes the feathers.”

  “But this is brilliant! Keep asking him questions.”

  “OK. Erm, so, Albert, where did you go on your holidays last year?”

  Albert squeaked.

  Tiddles let out a desperate meow and clawed at his ropes.

  The scrabbling turned into scribbling.

  “Perfect! Keep going.” Casper bit his lip.

  “Don’t s’pose they let you on an aeroplane. Did you take the bus?”

  Another squeak, and Tiddles meowed savagely.

  The scribbling became scrobbling, and soon increased to scrubbling (which is the best of all of them).

  “How much do bus tickets cost for rats, anyway?”

  Every squeak made Tiddles more excited. He wriggled and snapped, meowing as loud as his feline throat would allow.

  “Come on!” shouted Casper. “Come on!”

  The scrubbling was coming from right outside the door now. The three captives and Albert fell silent.

  There was a snarl and a yap, then the door went BAM as it flew off its hinges. In its wake floated a cloud of dust bathed in the evening’s moonlight; within the cloud a tiny silhouette stood rigid. The dust slowly settled. There she stood – a raggedy toddler in a tattered pink all-in-one with chalk-white hair and a mouthful of spoons that she must’ve found in the Blights’ cutlery drawer.

  “Cuddles!” Casper almost toppled his chair in excitement.

  At once Cuddles spotted Tiddles and her mouth fell open, the forgotten spoons clattering to the floor. “TATATA!” she screeched, bounding across the room in graceful leaps. She leapt on to Tiddles’ chair with bared teeth, licked him once on the nose and then set to work gnawing the ropes.

  “Good, Cuddles, you keep biting.” Casper’s heart beat faster as he felt the bonds fraying and loosening. “Come on, come on…”

  With a last gnash and a screech of delight, Cuddles snapped through the bonds and grabbed Tiddles, squeezing him like a ketchup bottle and licking his ear.

  “Yes!” Casper pulled away the loose ropes and jumped free. Lamp followed, stretching and shaking his creaky bits.

  “I love you so much, you little monster!” Casper fed Cuddles the last doggy treat from his pocket and ruffled her nit-ridden hair.

  She snapped at Casper’s finger, then belly-flopped off the chair, her landing cushioned by Tiddles clutched tightly to her chest.

  “Casper, Casper,” Lamp hopped from foot to foot. “What about the sword?”

  “Oh, blimey, I almost forgot. There’s still a chance we’ll catch them if we hurry. You ready to run, Lamp?”

  Lamp’s shoulders sagged. “Can’t I just invent something?”

  “There’s no time. We have to go.” He lumped Cuddles and Tiddles into his arms and set off down the corridor. Lamp blundered behind him holding Albert firmly on his head like an oddly fitting hat.

  They were down the stairs and out of the door in no time, dashing from the house along the crisp gravel path that twisted into Long Lost Drive and curved round the neat row of houses before dumping them back in the village square. The big clock read half past eleven, but the party still raged on inside the hall and showed no signs of abating. Left and across the park would lead them past Lamp’s garage and out towards Upper Crustenbury, but just as they reached ‘Blossom’s Bloomers’ a horrible thought slapped Casper round the face like a soggy haddock.

  He stopped suddenly and grabbed Lamp’s arm. “There are two roads out of the village. Which one did they take?”

  Lamp shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I was tied up in a mansion.”

  “But they could be miles away if we don’t get a move on!”

  “Never heard of ‘miles away’. Is it near Upper Crustybelly?”

  There was no time to think. Casper flung Cuddles and Tiddles into Lamp’s arms. “Go, quickly. Take the south road past your house. We can’t let them get away!”

  “But what do I do when I find them?” asked Lamp. “I don’t think I’m very good at stopping robbers.”

  “Just use Cuddles. Lavender’s dressed as a cat, remember?”

  “TAT?” Cuddles’ ears pricked up.

  “Exactly. At the sight of Lavender, let her rip. Now run!”

  “Run, run, run,” repeated Lamp as he gallumphed off towards the park with Cuddles and Tiddles and Albert as a hat.

  Casper spun on his heels and headed back through the square. The Blossoms could be long gone by now, but it was worth a try.

  There are only two ways out of Corne-on-the-Kobb: one road to the north and one to the south. The hills to the east house a pack of wolves so savage that the sheep carry shotguns. West of the village runs the River Kobb, but all the bridges collapsed during National Bridge-Stamping Day four years ago, and nobody rebuilt them thanks to International Bridge-Blueprint-Ripping-Up Day, which took place a week later. Leaving Corne-on-the-Kobb downwards would pose problems without Lamp’s Solar-Spade, and going up’s not easy when you don’t have wings or a hot-air balloon to hand. So there really were only two ways for the Blossoms to escape Corne-on-the-Kobb, and the northern one of those ways was currently being raced along by Casper Candlewacks.

  Casper panted in time with his footsteps, sucking in the cool air and pushing himself forward. The school slipped by on the left, the church on the right and then he was running down a wide road flanked by high hedgerows. Somewhere along this road was the burly guard Baz Laszlo, Corne-on-the-Kobb’s joint strongest man (a title he’s shared with his brother, Gaz, for the last twelve years because they couldn’t bear to hit each other in the final punch-up). Baz had biceps the size of ostrich eggs, but a brain the size of a walnut. The Blossoms might not last twelve rounds against this hulk, but they could easily outwit him with some craftily placed mirrors or a rubber mouse on a string.

  A light flickered in the distance. Surely that was Baz’s checkpoint? Casper picked up pace, willing his legs to carry him faster, gasping for air. Then something glinted in the darkness and Casper dived to the ground, breathing hard. He squinted into the pitch-black night and… yes! Between him and the flickering light were two cat-shaped creatures creeping under the shadow of the hedgerow. “The Blossoms,” he breathed, “or is it the Blights?” The shapes crept ever forward. But something was wrong – they’d be
caught for sure. How were they going to get past Baz?

  Maybe it’s an ambush. Casper glanced around for the others, but they were nowhere to be seen. He scratched his head frantically. Think, you idiot, think. But nothing useful got thought.

  “Oy!” The shout came from the perfectly toned throat of Baz Laszlo. He’d spotted them. “Who’s that?”

  Casper edged closer. Who were they?

  In a flash Baz leapt from his checkpoint and grabbed the figures, lifting them by the ears of their black cat suits back into the light.

  A spring of joy filled Casper’s heart. Baz had caught the Blossoms!

  “It’s you two. And what’s this…” He pulled the sparkling bejewelled sword from its cloth and choked on his own muscly tongue. “Oh my gawd…” Baz fumbled with a walkie-talkie. “’Ere, Gaz,” he shouted. “Gaz, you there? Over.”

  There was a crackle and then, “Wossup? Over.”

  “I got Le Chat, don’t I! Get ’ere now, and bring the mayor over. Over.”

  “Wicked, bruv. Who was it? Over.”

  “It’s those Blights, innit. Over.”

  “All right, I’m comin’ over. Over and out.”

  Casper went pale. The Blights? But they were only carrying the fake sword. The decoy had worked. Without thinking he bounded from his hiding place. “It’s not them!”

  Baz, Anemonie and Lobelia all jumped.

  “What d’you fink you’re up to?” shouted Baz.

  “Listen to me, that sword’s a fake.”

  “Shut it, I’d recognise the sword anywhere. You just want the cash.”

  “You have to believe me. That’s a decoy. Tell Gaz to get back to his post!”

  “Whatever. You’re just jealous.”

  “Run, Candlewacks,” Anemonie rasped, wrinkling her pointy nose. “Run.”

  There was no time to lose. Casper hurtled back towards the village faster than the opposite of a tortoise. With Gaz not guarding his checkpoint, the Blossoms had a free route out of the village, and who knows how far Lamp and Cuddles had got. Knowing Lamp, he’d probably forgotten about the whole thing and gone to bed. The church blurred by, then the school, then the square where bewildered idiots with party hats were piling out of the hall at Gaz’s frantic command.

  “It’s a trick!” Casper yelled. “You’ve got to come with me.”

  “Who’s got my sword?” Audrey Snugglepuss rolled up her sleeves menacingly.

  “LET ME AT HER!” bellowed Mayor Rattsbulge, his flabby bloodhound cheeks swollen with rage.

  “This way,” shouted Gaz, “foller me.”

  “The sword’s mine!”

  “Not if I get there first.”

  “You’re going the wrong way! Listen to me – that sword’s a fake. Le Chat’s escaping!” Casper’s yells fell on deaf ears as the herd thundered away from him, walking sticks and knitting needles thrashing around. Gaz Laszlo flung Clemmie Answorth out of his path and she flew off into the night, landing, bewildered, in a nearby field.

  “Ugh,” Casper hopped with desperation. “There’s no time for this.” He took a despairing look at the idiots and then launched himself in the other direction. Blossom’s Bloomers sat empty, moonlight reflecting off its spotless front window. It billowed its green awning rather proudly as Casper raced past. The scene in front of him pitched and reeled like he was on a boat; his lungs burned, his legs ached, only his mind pushed him on.

  Bring home Cuddles, plus twenty thousand pounds and life would finally return to normal. Bring home nothing and who knows if he’d ever get his parents off that sofa? What if Lamp hadn’t got there in time? What if they’d snatched Cuddles again? They could be miles away by now.

  Sweat stung Casper’s eyes as he passed Lamp’s garage – empty, thank goodness.

  “I’m coming for you, Lavender Blossom,” Casper yelled into the sky. “You’re not getting away with this.”

  The trees blocked the moonlight, casting the road into darkness. How much further? Casper’s arms had dropped, his shirt was clinging to his skin, he couldn’t gasp enough air with each breath, but he pressed on ever further into the darkness.

  Suddenly a light up ahead shook Casper back into focus. Gaz’s checkpoint. No movement. He willed his numb legs to sprint the last fifty metres and arrived, wheezing, to find… nothing.

  The place was deserted. An overturned chair lay next to Gaz’s torch in a ditch at the side of the road, which was illuminating the hedgerows above rather prettily, given the situation. Casper doubled over with hands on knees, downcast and exhausted. Beyond the checkpoint was a fork in the road where both choices trailed off into blackness. There was no sign of Lamp or Cuddles, no clue as to where the Blossoms had gone; nothing at all. Silence closed in on Casper’s ears and hugged him like a muffly bear.

  “Where are you?” He strutted forward furiously and kicked a little clod of earth. Except that it wasn’t earth because it sort of disintegrated under his feet. More like… a clump of hair. Casper crouched down and picked some up – it was soft to the touch, curly too and quite fragrant. He stood up again and moved forward, eyes to the ground. There was more – another whole clump, trailing off towards the left-hand fork. “Hang on,” Casper’s eyes widened. “Curly…”

  Adrenalin surged back through Casper’s body as he raced down the left road, hot on his new trail. That hair was unmistakeably Lavender or Daisy Blossom’s. So what had happened? More clumps of the hair were strewn on the road every few metres with no real pattern. Round the next corner was a crushed sweet pea, then a shred of purple sparkly material. There was only one possible explanation for such carnage – Cuddles. Casper lifted his head now, not looking for hair, but for people on the road. Only the thought of Cuddles round every corner could possibly spur him any further onwards.

  Just as he felt he could go no further, Casper’s eyes made out a wriggling shape against the blackness, accompanied by a series of grunts. It was large, bumpy and it squirmed. Grinding to a halt about twenty metres away, he gulped two lungfuls of delicious air and squinted at the shape.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Casper! Help!”

  As Casper limped forward, the moon advanced from behind a cloud and filled in the scene before his eyes. There stood Lavender, staggering about blindly and thrashing the sword from side to side while Cuddles lay on top of her head and hugged her face, both sets of claws dug firmly into her chin. Meanwhile Lamp clung desperately round Lavender’s legs and Tiddles climbed up and down her body, nipping at any bits of bare skin.

  “Get off me, you vile beasts!” she yelled, screeching and wobbling and waving her sword.

  “TATATA!” yelled Cuddles.

  “Grab the sword!” shouted Lamp. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

  Casper approached Lavender, ducking her swishes of the sword and the flecks of her enraged spit. With Cuddles cuddling Lavender’s eyes, she was absolutely blind, but with Casper tired from all his running and the perfect height for decapitation, the duel was about evenly matched.

  The bejewelled sword swished across the top of Casper’s head and sent him reeling to one side and straight into a hedgerow. He winced at the pain, but there was no time to rest. Taking two deep breaths, Casper gritted his teeth and launched back into the fray. He advanced on the crazed woman, keeping low this time to avoid the sword’s wayward thrashes. Casper crouched right in front of her now, an arm’s length from the sword. Lavender swung the blade from side to side far too fast to grab, but Casper noticed that between swishes, for a couple of seconds the sword was still. Could Casper take that chance to snatch it?

  “I know you’re there somewhere, Casper.”

  Swish, swish, swish.

  If he popped up too early she’d take his head with her.

  Swish, swish, swish.

  “Quick, Casper. My arms hurt!”

  Swish, swish, swish.

  Between two swishes and by pure instinct Casper sprang to a standing position and in the same move wrenched the b
ejewelled sword from Lavender’s grasp. She screamed and lunged forward, but Lamp tightened his grip on her ankles. With a muffled scream Lavender lost her balance, tumbled right over Casper in a gangly half-somersault and thumped on to her back on the warm tarmac. Winded and swordless, she didn’t bother to get up again.

  “We’ve got the sword! We’ve got the sword!” Lamp stood up and jigged about in front of Casper, then leapt forward to hug him and then pushed him away for another jig. Casper held the sword numbly, unable to move or speak or do sums (not that he needed to do any), filled with heavy, exhausted relief. Cuddles had sniffed out that Lavender was no cat by now and pinned her to the ground, angrily chewing on a mouthful of her hair.

  The sword was theirs, Cuddles was safe and they’d brought Lavender Blossom to justice. Casper’s heart swelled with happiness like only once ever before.

  Lamp skipped in gleeful circles round Lavender. “Wheee! Just wait till I tell Alb— Oh.”

  “What?”

  “Albert. I left him guarding Daisy.”

  Casper looked around, but he knew what he’d see, or rather what he wouldn’t see. Daisy was long gone.

  “She told me she surrendered. I believed her. So did Albert. We believed her, Casper. But now she’s run away and she’s taken Albert…” Lamp’s face crumpled. He trumpeted into his hanky and emitted the mournful cries of “Albert! Daisy!”

  Lavender spat a mouthful of dirt on to the road. “You’ll never find her, you snivelling little infant. Should’ve caught her when you had the— AARGH!”

  Cuddles and Tiddles had sunk their teeth into each of Lavender’s arms.

  Casper didn’t usually give hugs, but he was certain that Lamp needed one. “Come on,” he said, lending his friend a comforting arm. “A girl like that would probably have been a whole lot of trouble anyway.”

  “S’pose so,” muttered Lamp.

  “You got the sword and you caught Lavender. That’s two things worth celebrating.”

  Lamp sniffed, then smiled. “S’pose so.”

  Cuddles chuckled and tried to bend Lavender’s arm the wrong way.

  One mile away Julius and Amanda Candlewacks snored in tuneless harmony as Nature’s Curliest Tentacles tickled their dreams.