by Lisa Martin
“Oh, heavens,” Ruby exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. Now, try to calm yourself a bit and tell me exactly what happened.” Ruby touched Camille’s nose with her own and stood solidly near the dog’s shoulder as she composed herself. Anton and Cecil took a few steps backward into the shade and crouched, listening intently.
“That’s just the trouble! I don’t know what happened.” Camille glanced at the crowd behind her and took a quick breath. “I don’t have much time. My owner is looking for me, but I had to try to find you right away.”
“Indeed, and I do hope I may be of service. I am working on this very case, if your situation is as I fear.” Ruby nodded grimly. “But the details, please. Give me what you remember.”
“Yes, all right,” said Camille, lifting her cloud-like head. “We were walking on the Midway—my owner, my son Jasper, and me. My owner stopped to watch several humans dancing in a circle outside an open tent. The dancers were waving colorful cloths through the air, and there was music. A big crowd had gathered and we were standing toward the back, so Jasper and I couldn’t see very much. My owner was apparently taken with the show, so we lay down on the ground on either side of him to wait.” She paused, shaking her head.
“Go on,” urged Ruby gently. “You’re doing fine. This is all quite important.”
“It happened so fast. Someone stepped on my tail and I yelped and jumped up, and when I turned back Jasper was . . . just . . . missing!” A sob caught in Camille’s throat. “I immediately started barking to get my owner’s attention. I looked around but I couldn’t see anything in the crowd. Ruby, I know what you must be thinking, but he wouldn’t run away, not from me.”
“No, of course not, my dear. Now let me ask you. Do you recall picking up any particular scents at the time?” Ruby looked dubiously at Camille’s petite nose.
Camille shook her head sadly. “Not in particular, but there were so many human smells in the air, it was confusing.”
Ruby eyed the leather collar. “Was Jasper on a leash, similar to yours?”
Camille cocked her head. “Well, yes, he was,” she said slowly, “but I’m not sure what . . .”
A commotion in the crowd made them all turn. “Queenie!” a deep voice bellowed. “Queen of Sheba, where are you?”
“That’s my owner,” said Camille, a guilty look on her face. “I ran from him to find you.” She turned and stepped into the roadway just as a heavyset, bearded man burst through. His face was red and perspiring. From one hand, another leather leash dangled, empty.
“Oh, Queenie!” cried the bearded man, dropping to one thick knee. “Come here, my girl. I thought I’d lost you as well!” Camille trotted to the man and allowed him to rub her neck and shoulders affectionately. Ruby, moving quietly and quickly, circled behind him and sniffed at the leash that looped on the ground beside him.
“You’ve made a friend, I see,” said the man, scooping up the handle of Camille’s leash as he rose to his feet. He patted Ruby’s head and then nudged her away. “Come along, Queenie. We’ll find your pup, not to worry. I understand there’s a detective here who’s top-notch. Morgan’s the name, I believe. This way.” He strode off down the path with Camille, who turned and sent Ruby one last pleading glance over her shoulder. Ruby returned a deep nod.
“Well!” she exclaimed, returning to the shade of the tree where Anton and Cecil sat pondering what they’d just heard. “That was a breakthrough, of sorts.”
“Was it?” said Anton. “How?”
“Was it a clue about the missing puppies?” asked Cecil.
“Stolen puppies, to be more precise,” said Ruby, gazing dolefully at Cecil. “At first we did consider them to be merely missing, Mr. Morgan and I. Mysteriously missing dogs. Perhaps lost. Perhaps runaways. We have, up to now, concentrated our efforts on locating these lost souls somewhere here at the Fair, but I’m having my doubts that this is a simple string of straying pups.” She shook her head decisively. “No, I believe we are firmly in the realm of thievery!”
“What makes you so sure?” asked Anton.
“The leash that man was holding, for one thing,” said Ruby. “Did you notice anything strange about it?”
“It was made of the same braided rope as Camille’s,” offered Anton. “I noticed that.”
“It must have been Jasper’s leash, but there was no Jasper at the end of it,” added Cecil. Just thinking about Camille’s young son in this enormous crowd, all alone and scared, made his belly ache. What if that were one of the kittens?
“Right on both counts,” said Ruby approvingly. “But the breakthrough was even bigger than that.” Her eyes were bright above her drooping jowls. “It wasn’t only Jasper that was missing at the end of the leash.”
“It wasn’t?” said Anton. “Well, what else could be missing?”
“The collar was gone as well,” explained Ruby. “The leash had been cut!”
“Cut!” repeated Cecil. “So that means somebody intentionally took Jasper, right?”
“That would be my deduction as well, Cecil. A finding that turns this case on its ear.”
Chapter 4
The Ice Railway
Gentlemen, I think we should split up.”
Ruby sat in the alley next to the narrow house she lived in with her partner, Mr. Morgan, while Anton and Cecil lapped up milk from two small saucers. On their way back from the Fair the previous evening, Mr. Morgan had turned to see the cats trailing behind Ruby. When he got home, he brought a dish of food out to them in the alley where they’d tucked themselves inside a tipped-over crate. The food was some kind of canned fish, salty and sour, but the cats were grateful. Ruby accompanied Morgan out with the milk the next morning, and stayed with them to plot the day.
“Split up?” said Cecil, licking drops of milk from his whiskers. “Why?”
“Yes, why?” echoed Anton. “The Fair is enormous, with so many humans everywhere.”
“And that’s exactly why we should split up, my fine feline fellows,” said Ruby. “Divide and conquer, that’s the idea.”
“It sounds like you already have a plan,” said Cecil, moving on to clean his face with one paw. “Let’s hear it.”
“That I do, and here it is.” Ruby stood to pace a little as she talked. “First, I’ll need to be on hand when Mr. Morgan speaks to the owner of the poodle who was snatched yesterday, as I may be able to draw a few more details from his mother, Camille.”
Anton interrupted. “What’s a poodle?”
“It’s one kind of dog,” Ruby explained. “A type. Camille is a miniature poodle.”
Cecil looked at Ruby’s long face. “You’re not a poodle, are you?”
“Goodness, no,” snorted Ruby. “I’m a bloodhound, descended from a long line of talented noses, I might add.” She took a large sniff of air.
“Bloodhound, huh?” said Cecil. “Sounds intimidating. Are there lots of different types?”
Ruby nodded. “Very many, indeed. What kinds of cats are there?”
Cecil shrugged and rubbed his ear with a paw. “Well, some are slim, some stout, some all one color, some striped.”
“Some are smooth, others fluffy,” Anton put in. “We’re all just cats, as far as any I’ve ever met.”
“Well, my dear, that may change today,” said Ruby, continuing to pace. “I want Cecil to go up to the Ice Railway and talk to a cat who is there every day with her owner. The owner is a stocky old woman who wears piles of animal furs draped over her shoulders.” Ruby shivered with distaste. “The cat is an odd one—unnaturally thin, always tucked in the lady’s arms, won’t speak to me at all. She only ever hisses, the miserable thing, and that’s about the extent of what I’ve been able to get out of her. But the pair of them have been around the Fair since it opened, and the cat may know something about the disappearing dogs. Something she might share with a fellow cat.”
Cecil nodded thoughtfully. “The Ice Railway? What is that?”
“It’s a track that runs in a circle,
covered with snow. The snow is always there, though one never sees it falling.” Ruby gazed into the distance, musing. “Quite strange, really. The humans ride around the track sitting in a cart, screaming and howling as if they are at wit’s end with terror. Though they must like it well enough, as I observe a large crowd lining up to take the ride every day.”
“Ought to be easy to find, then,” said Cecil, standing and stretching. “An unfriendly, hissing cat. Okay, where should we meet, and when?”
“Let’s meet near the fishing boy after our tasks, and we’ll share what we’ve learned,” said Ruby.
“Wait,” said Anton, “what am I doing?”
“Of course, Anton, I’m not forgetting you,” said Ruby, turning. “You should go to the animal show. The humans call it the Menagerie. There’s a show every few hours that features several performing creatures, though it takes place inside a building that I’ve never been allowed to enter.” She swung her head around, her long ears flapping. “I’m just too big, I suspect. At any rate, animals who work at the Fair may have superior inside knowledge of the crimes, so I’d like you to sneak in somehow and speak with them.”
“How will I know which place is the Menagerie?” asked Anton, rising to join Cecil.
“It’s on the Midway, near the Ice Railway, where your brother is bound,” said Ruby, tilting her head toward Cecil. “You’ll know it by the five lions in cages outside the door.”
“Lions?” said Cecil, his golden eyes widening.
“Biggest cats you’ve ever seen, I’ll wager.” Ruby winked at the brothers. “All right, let’s get to work.”
Cecil thought of the Great Cat, Montana, a huge, solitary creature they had met in the mountains, far behind them now. Montana would never, ever be found in a cage. Who could these strange big cats be?
The Midway was a long, straight thoroughfare, and no cat could see from end to end with all of the jostling, crowding humans in the way. The humans probably couldn’t see very well, either. Compared to the more placid areas of the Fair over by the Basin with the frozen, white statues posing here and there, the Midway’s sounds were a cacophony of chatter and music, the air pungent with strange cooking and animal hides and overheated people. And the sights! There was a novelty every time Cecil turned his head. Colorfully dressed dancing ladies, their wrists and fingers flashing in the sun; strolling creatures twice as tall as their human riders—big as bison but light-colored, skinny-legged, and hump-backed; a man wearing a length of cloth wrapped around his head for a hat, thrusting a flaming sword down his throat and then whisking it out again, smiling and bowing for the crowds. It was impossible to look away.
“Cecil!” called Anton. “Look where you’re going!”
Cecil turned and found himself face to face with an enormous cat-like creature. The creature appeared to be sleeping, reclining in a squat, narrow cage with great black bars for walls and a few gnarled bones strewn in one corner. The animal’s fur was tawny gold, and its pink tongue lolled out between pointed teeth as it breathed steadily. Most striking was its face, angular and regal, surrounded by a thick ring of dark brown fur that was long and wavy like human hair. Cecil froze, staring at the creature, and Anton crept up next to him, crouching low.
“Is this the big cat Ruby was talking about?” whispered Cecil.
“Must be,” said Anton softly. “There are four more of them, see?”
Cecil glanced at the others, some dozing, some pacing narrowly in their cages. The cages were set on either side of the entrance to a large building. A man approached one of the other enclosures and spoke jeeringly to the big cat inside. The cat growled and sprang toward the bars, and the man jumped back.
A deep, hoarse voice came from nearby. “At least use the proper name, will you? We are lions.”
Cecil and Anton stepped away from the cage, but the lion who had just spoken didn’t move. He opened one yellow-brown eye and fixed it on them, still resting his head on his two massive front paws.
“What business do you have here?” the lion rumbled. He opened the other eye and blinked at them slowly. “And what are you, anyway, house cats?”
“Traveling cats, more like,” said Cecil, watching the lion’s tail, which was tufted with the same dark hair that surrounded his face, flick back and forth along the dusty floor of the cage.
The lion’s eyes narrowed slightly and he lifted his head. “Traveling house cats. Hmph. Where have you traveled?”
“We’ve sailed in ships over the ocean,” said Cecil, pulling himself up, “and we’ve ridden on trains all the way across the land.” Anton nodded beside him. It did sound impressive, Cecil thought.
The lion evidently did not agree. “Not bad,” he said, yawning. “The six of us came across the sea in a ship and then on a train to get here.” He nodded toward the other lions. “It was awful.”
“By my count there are only five of you,” said Anton.
The lion regarded Anton coolly. “There is one more inside, little house cat. So, again, what’s your business here?” A note of irritation had slipped into his voice.
“We are . . .” began Cecil, but then he paused. Would Ruby say it was all right to speak of their investigation, or was it top secret? This lion did not seem especially friendly. “We’re looking into a mystery, to help a friend,” he said.
The lion snorted. “A mystery, eh? Let me guess. Are you referring to the missing pooches?”
“Poodles, you mean,” Anton corrected. “The type is called poodles. Have you seen anything?”
“No, I have not,” snarled the lion. “As you can see, I don’t get out much.” He glared at the cats. “I’ve heard the fuss being made about the whole mess, though I can’t imagine why. The hounds probably just wandered off, is my guess. Wanted a little freedom, change of scenery. I can certainly relate to that.” He stood up in the cage, and the small confines made him look even larger. “And who is this ‘friend’ you’re helping? Don’t tell me it’s a dog, too.”
Cecil nodded. “Afraid so.”
“Working for a dog, looking for dogs. Pitiful.” The lion shook his great head. “And you call yourselves felines. Well, there’s a dog working the show inside, if you want more. A little high-strung, as they all are. Best of luck.” The lion turned and slumped again, facing the other way. “And don’t try the front entrance,” he added over his shoulder. “They’ll toss you out on your ear. Go around back.”
“Thanks,” said Anton, though the lion said no more.
Cecil stood and gazed around. “Well, you’ve found your assignment. Now I’m off to find mine. See you later.” And with a swish of his white-tipped tail, he melted into the crowds of legs and feet on the Midway.
The Ice Railway was hard to miss. Not only was it elevated high above the roadbed where the Fair-goers strolled, but it took up a space the length of three or four buildings lined up along the Midway. As Ruby had described, it was a giant looping track on which humans rode in open carriages shaped like horse-carts without wheels. And the carriages needed no wheels on the track, Cecil soon discovered, because they slid on a sheet of ice.
Cecil could feel the cold pouring off of the surface of the track in a wave as he approached. It felt good, especially as the sun rose and the day warmed. One end of the Railway was enclosed by a tall, windowed building, and wooden staircases led riders to the top floor on either side. If I’m to get a good look at this thing and find this mysterious hissing cat, I’d better get up high, thought Cecil, and up he climbed, dodging sharp toes and heels the whole way. At the top he slinked out onto a platform overlooking the track, settled himself under the railing, and gazed out.
Long, pointed flags whipped on tall poles overhead like the tongues of lizards, much bigger than the small flags on ships but without any pictures on them, only squiggles. At the far end of the ring stood a low building with a smokestack puffing out billows of black smoke in time with a loud, chugging engine. The carriages on the track had low, elegantly curved sides and were set
on runners, like the sleighs horses pulled through the winter snow in Lunenburg. The ice sparkled as the morning sunshine lit the track. Of course, Cecil had seen ice on ponds and puddles during the bitter winters back home, but it melted at the first sign of spring warmth. He’d never seen such a thing in midsummer.
Great crowds of people waited to take a turn riding the sleigh around the ice track. A short set of steps led from the platform down to a smaller landing next to the track, where riders got on and off the sleigh. Cecil scanned the humans, whose faces mostly looked alike under their black hats, smiling and craning their necks to see ahead. One face did not smile, Cecil noticed. A short, thickset woman, her mouth set in a scowl, stood off in one corner of the landing and watched the riders with a brooding glare. She wore a layered coat, despite the warm day, and Cecil realized with a start that the coat was made from long swaths of animal furs stitched together as fabric.
That must be who Ruby was talking about, he thought, and rose to his feet to get a better view, ducking under the railing and leaning out. Sure enough, nestled in the crook of the woman’s furry arm was the head of a very lean cat—a cat who appeared to have no fur at all.
Cecil was still focused on the strange woman and even stranger cat when a trio of boys climbed onto the bottom rung of the railing just above his backside, shouting and pointing at the whizzing sleigh below. When a woman in the line called to the boys, they jumped down from the rail in unison, one landing hard on the tip of Cecil’s tail.
“Yeeeoooww!” Cecil screeched, leaping away. He scrambled to regain his balance but found himself tipping over the platform’s edge, tumbling through the chill air, and dropping onto the ice-covered track below like a sack of flour.
Thunk. He landed on his feet but his paws immediately splayed out in all four directions, sending him down to his belly. Ooof.
Cecil lay still for a few seconds, gasping to recover his breath. He stared ahead at the steep downhill run, his underside beginning to numb. The Fair-goers who had seen him fall were causing a commotion, some squawking, some tittering with laughter. Cecil glanced over his shoulder, his head spinning, and saw the hulking sleigh poised at the top of the run, held fast by ropes as the passengers stepped inside and settled into their seats. His heart jumped—the sleigh was almost full. It was exactly as wide as the track and was kept aligned by rails on each side. As soon as the ride workers unwound the restraining ropes, the sleigh would begin its run around the track.
