Authors: Mike Nicholson
“This is a major breakthrough,” concluded Murdo pacing around as much as he could within the confines of the caravan. “A significant development,” he added.
“But what does it mean?” said Fergus.
Murdo stopped in his tracks. “I have absolutely no idea.”
Despite this, the boys finished the day feeling positive that they had begun to make some sense out of all the information that Murdo had gathered, even if they didn’t quite know where it might lead.
The following day Murdo arrived on his scooter with Jock tagging along behind and the boys walked down Comely Bank Avenue to Mrs. Jenkins’ flat.
“Come in, come in,” she said to the boys. Jessie bustled her way through the dimly lit hall of her ground floor flat. “Right, you boys go through to the living room there,” she said pointing to a room on the right. She headed off along the hall chatting cheerily to herself about “getting a tray organized,” her baggy cardigan almost knocking a vase of flowers off a rickety hall table as she went.
Fergus led the way cautiously into the living room. As he pushed the door open, it felt like going back in time. Their first impressions were that the room was dingy and dull, but as their eyes adjusted to the gloom they could see that there was plenty of interest.
The floral-patterned wallpaper was difficult to see because there were so many framed black and white photographs, and paintings of landscapes and farms. A big clock with a long pendulum and weights hanging on dark brassy chains was attached to the wall near the fireplace.
“Look at that,” said Murdo pointing to a large framed photo on top of the mantlepiece. A white cat looked back at them.
“Look at this,” Fergus said with wonder in his voice, pointing to one corner of the room where there was a very new, very shiny, and very, very large computer on a table. “This lady is full of surprises,” said Fergus shaking his head slowly. Murdo went over to the computer and peered at the books lying beside it.
“You’re Never Too Old to Learn, Crash Course in Computers, Grannies Can Surf Too,”
he read out.
Before the boys could find any more surprises, Mrs. Jenkins appeared behind them. “Here we are,” she said, carrying a tray into the room and setting it down on a dusty coffee table.
“Ah, you’ve found my latest purchase,” she said seeing the boys standing beside her computer. “It’s top of the range!”
The boys looked stunned. “Don’t look so surprised,” said Mrs. Jenkins, “I might be ancient but I do live in the 21st century you know,” she said with a sly smile. “Now, how about this?” she said turning her attention to the tray. “Not only am I a computer geek but I also bake the best cakes in Edinburgh.”
Jock had already worked this out and was sniffing impatiently at the edge of the coffee table. Neither he nor the boys needed a second invitation to tuck in to the plate of rock buns, pancakes and shortbread. They munched away happily, grinning to each other as Mrs. Jenkins chatted and asked them questions about the backwards watches. However, there really wasn’t much more that the boys could tell her, and so the conversation soon went quiet.
Murdo asked innocently, “Is that your cat, Mrs. Jenkins?” nodding towards the photo on the mantlepiece.
“Now, boys,” said Mrs. Jenkins seriously, “If we are to become friends, and I hope we shall, you will have to get one thing straight.” Murdo looked embarrassed, thinking that he was being too personal with his line of questioning. However,
Mrs. Jenkins wasn’t bothered by Murdo’s question.
“It’s Jessie. You must call me Jessie. I’m afraid I won’t be able to provide any more homebaking if you call me Mrs. Jenkins. That sort of name would be some strange old dear who lived on her own and who everyone avoided. Jessie on the other hand, is the name of someone who regularly produces pancakes for private investigators.” The boys smiled and Murdo looked especially pleased at this description.
“Now that we’ve cleared up that little issue Murdo, yes, that it is my cat, Jasper, but I’m afraid that the poor old thing has gone missing. I haven’t seen him for a fortnight.”
The boys glanced at each other and stopped chewing at the same time.
“What is it?” said Jessie suddenly distracted from her teacup by the boys’ reaction.
“Well,” said Fergus cautiously looking at Murdo for approval, “we’re actually trying to solve two mysteries. Murdo can explain better since he’s been on the case for longer than me.” Picking up the story, Murdo took the next few minutes to tell Jessie all that he knew about the forty-three missing cats, the Incident Room and the interviews that he had carried out with cat owners in the area.
Jessie listened intently, occasionally asking questions and nodding, but when Murdo had finished she just sat shaking her head slowly. The boys sat in silence. “Don’t you believe him?” asked Fergus eventually.
“Oh yes,” said Jessie looking up brightly, “I’m just shaking my head to make sure all of the information sinks in evenly. That is quite a story, boys. So my Jasper isn’t the only one. I suppose that’s reassuring in a way.”
Jessie stood up and began walking round the room, her pink cardigan flapping as she shook the stiffness first out of one leg and then the other. “Well, you’ve got two big mysteries on your hands here, haven’t you? This calls for quite an
investigation, quite an investigation.”
The boys smiled and nodded.
“Jessie, what time of day did Jasper disappear?” said Fergus, suddenly remembering the significant discovery of the previous day.
Jessie thought for a minute. “Let me see now. It was a Wednesday and we had our breakfast together. He often went out after that, but he was around again at teatime when I came in from karate. He went out again during the evening. I looked to see if he wanted to come in for the night, but he wasn’t around. That wasn’t unusual so I just locked up. When I opened the front door at breakfast time I would have expected to see him sitting on the doorstep, but there was no sign of him. I haven’t seen him since.” Jessie sighed and dabbed at her eyes, “You probably think that I’m just a daft old dear for getting upset but I did talk away to Jasper any time he was in the flat. He has been a very faithful friend ever since my husband, Stan, died. I particularly miss him at breakfast. We would sit down together and eat peanut butter and marmite on toast every day. The start of the day just isn’t the same any more.”
Both Murdo and Fergus decided that it wasn’t the time to comment on the bizarre choice of food that Jasper ate.
“I can’t imagine losing Jock,” said Murdo. “It must be awful.”
Fergus told Jessie of the recurring pattern of nighttime disappearances. Their new friend seemed reassured once again that she was by no means the only one faced with this predicament.
“I suppose you’ve got a database that helped you spot these patterns?” asked Jessie. The boys looked blankly at her. “Now don’t tell me you two aren’t computerized?” she quizzed them further, putting down her teacup in consternation.
“Neither of us have computers right now,” said Murdo. “But I do have a very good filing system,” he added defensively. Fergus nodded supportively beside him, but suspected that this was a
line of questioning that Jessie was not about to let go.
“Boys, I don’t want to appear like I’m telling you how to run the show, but I do think that there’s a lot you could be missing out on by not using a computer for your investigations. Now you are very welcome to use mine if you like and I can always help. I’ve reached Level 7 in
Databases for Old Dears
, you know,” she said winking at them.
Murdo grinned at Fergus. They both knew that they had not only acquired a new ally in their investigations but a serious piece of computer hardware into the bargain.
Jessie and the boys spent the next couple of hours huddled around the computer, by the end of which they had achieved a number of things, or “followed up a number of lines of enquiry,” as Murdo preferred to describe it.
Firstly, Jessie reminded them that they had all met because of backwards watches and not missing cats, so they trooped out to the manhole cover and watched each of their watches go backwards. Back inside Jessie checked the internet for the company that manufactured DataBoys and sent a quick email off to Customer Services to enquire if they had ever had complaints about the watches going backwards before. She also clicked onto the “Frequently Asked Questions” page of the company website to check that there wasn’t a standard response to the slightly odd question, “Why does my watch go backwards when I stand on the manhole cover at the bottom of Comely Bank Avenue?” Perhaps, unsurprisingly, the three investigators found that this didn’t feature alongside questions about how to use some of the Twenty Funky Functions and how to buy replacement straps, which Murdo was delighted to see.
Next, Jessie suggested that they switch their attention to the cats. “Multi-tasking! Fantastic!” declared Murdo, delighted that they were now tackling both mysteries at the same time. The first step was an internet search using the words “lost,” “cats” and “Edinburgh.” This revealed everything from information about the Edinburgh Cat and Dog Home for lost pets, a couple of websites set up by owners of lost cats that Murdo recognized from his interviews, and even research into the eating habits of cats by an Edinburgh University student.
Although the boys didn’t feel they had come up with any more answers, it felt good to be covering a few new angles.
Finally, and in no time at all, Jessie set up a simple database where each missing cat’s name, description, contact details and the date, time and location of their disappearance could all be entered. The boys started by keying in Jasper’s details, followed by another dozen or so cats from Murdo’s file, and they promised to come back and complete the database over the next couple of days.
“I’m sure this will unlock some secrets for us,” said Jessie, patting the computer.
As Jessie waved the boys goodbye from her front door she called out, “I think that we’ll make a very good team working together.” Murdo looked pleased enough to pop.
Fergus returned home happy with the work of the previous few hours. As he unlocked the front door he could hear his mum chatting to someone.
“Fergus, can you come here for a minute,” she called from the living room.
As he walked into the room, Fergus nearly tripped over a large shiny, Siamese cat sitting on the floor. His mind immediately whirred into action as he wondered how one of the missing cats had magically appeared in the middle of the front room.
“It’s all right, she doesn’t bite,” said a smiling young woman with short hair and casual clothes.
Mrs. Speight spoke up. “Fergus, this is Narveen. You’ve probably seen her before. She lives at number 89. She’s going away for a long weekend and wants us to look in on Sasha while she’s away,” she said nodding towards the cat by the door. “I said that you and I could help. What do you think?”
Before Fergus had a chance to answer, Narveen chipped in,
as if concerned that Fergus might be about to say no. “You just have to put out half a tin of food a couple of times a day and give her a wee bit of chat. She’s pretty independent really and she’ll spend a lot of time out and about.”
Fergus looked at the cat and broke into a huge smile. “Brilliant!” he said, his mind switching from the idea that this was a lost cat to the possibility of using it to find some of its missing friends. Then, as if remembering where he was, he added, “Eh yeah, we’d love to look after her.”
“There you go,” said Mrs. Speight to Narveen. “An enthusiastic new recruit!”
Narveen started to reply and although Fergus knew she was talking to him, he couldn’t help his mind racing off in another direction. He and Murdo had just been handed a cat on a plate. Cat bait! They could track this cat and see if it led them to the lost cats. It was perfect.
“Fergus?” said his mum, getting slightly irritated that her son had switched off when a visitor was talking to him.
“What … er … yeah … great, yeah … love to, great,” he said.
“Thanks, Fergus,” said Narveen. “Do you like animals?”
“Yeah, my friend Murdo has a dog called Jock and he’s really cool. Murdo’s really interested in cats as well though. Would he be able to help us with Sasha?” said Fergus to both Narveen and his mum.
“Fergus and Murdo are thick as thieves at the moment,” Mrs. Speight said by way of explanation to Narveen, “I’m not sure what they’re up to half the time, but they seem happy.”
“Well, Sasha won’t know what’s happening if she starts to get lots of attention,” said Narveen. “I tend to leave her to her own devices, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy the change.”
Fergus looked at Sasha. She looked back at Fergus. Fergus could have sworn that the cat could tell what he was thinking and was saying through narrowed eyes, “Don’t bother me with your silly games, little boy.”
“I’ll be away from Thursday,” said Narveen bringing out a set of keys from her handbag. “I’ll leave tins of food in the kitchen, along with her bowl. There’ll be a note with my number and the emergency vet’s number, but I can’t imagine any reason why you’d need them. You’ll be fine, won’t you, snookums?” she said picking up the rather bored looking Siamese and nuzzling it.
Fergus might have felt enthusiastic about looking after the cat, but he couldn’t quite imagine himself getting that affectionate with it over the next few days. He would certainly be drawing the line at calling it “snookums.” Fergus concluded quietly that he would be quite happy if Sasha was always at arm’s length but led him to the location of another forty-three cats; forty-four now that they knew Jasper was missing too.
“Mum, can I go round to Murdo’s?” said Fergus suddenly desperate to do the next bit of planning at the Incident Room. Mrs. Speight gave a smile towards Narveen as if to say, “See what I mean?” and said, “Well okay, as long as you’re back for tea.” Narveen thanked Fergus again for helping out, before he sped off on his bike to launch another new line of enquiry.
Minutes later in the Incident Room, Murdo was pacing up and down. “What a gift! What an opportunity!” he said. “We have bait for seventy-two hours. If all goes well, this could crack the case. Imagine if this cat goes where the missing cats are and we’re right there on its tail!”
“Sasha won’t like that!” joked Fergus, forgetting that there was a time and a place for humour with Murdo, who was now glaring at him for bursting his bubble of enthusiasm.
Murdo shook his head briskly as if to get rid of the interruption. “So this neighbour of yours goes away on Thursday afternoon and the first feed is on Friday morning. We need to pack provisions for a day’s cat-tracking. Let’s start a list of what we need.”
Murdo began a typically frenetic session of equipment-gathering,
but came across a hitch when he decided that one essential item was a street plan of the city.
“Mum, have you seen my city map?” he asked after they had exhausted their search of the Incident Room and most of the house.
“I think I might have seen it in Heather’s room,” said Mrs. Fraser. “She had it for some school project.”
Murdo paled and looked for a moment like he might reconsider just how essential this item actually was to the next stage of their investigations. However, after a deep breath he seemed to gather himself together. “We mustn’t let this jeopardize our research,” he said as they headed somewhat tentatively upstairs, with Jock following close behind.
Fergus wasn’t expecting to see a f lowery nameplate on Heather’s bedroom door and he wasn’t disappointed. The door sported a “No Entry” sign in the middle alongside official notices saying that not only were radioactive materials and corrosive products stored in the room, but also that safety helmets should be worn at all times. This helpful advice was capped off nicely by a large skull and crossbones. If the door wasn’t off-putting enough, the screaming guitars and anguished vocals of the music blaring through it suggested that Heather did not want to be interrupted.
Murdo took a deep breath and knocked firmly on the door. Silence. The music cut out as if the door was linked to the sound system.
He knocked again. Silence.
Taking this as a cue for his next move, Murdo put his hand slowly towards the door handle as if it might electrocute him. Holding his breath he opened the door and entered the room. Jock stuck close to Murdo’s leg sensing that his master needed all the allies he could get. He began growling as menacingly as a small dog could.
Heather was sitting cross-legged on her bed surrounded
by magazines, with the wall behind her covered in posters of grungy-looking bands. She didn’t look up as the door opened. “Did I say you could come in?”
“You didn’t actually say anything,” said Murdo trying to sound confident.
Heather looked at him. Fergus decided that this was probably quite a good start. She could have ignored him completely after all.
“I need my street map back,” said Murdo.
“Your street map,” said Heather.
“Yes,” said Murdo.
“Now why exactly would I want to give that to you?” asked Heather.
“Mainly because it’s mine,” said Murdo.
“What about you, Fergus, do you think I should give it to him?” said Heather turning her attention to Fergus.
“Er … well obviously it’s up to you, but we do need it,” said Fergus.
“Oh, so polite,” said Heather sweetly. “What do you need to use it for, Dr. Watson? Still helping Sherlock with the big case?”
Murdo fired a warning glance at Fergus.
“We only need it for the day,” said Fergus, feeling pleased that he had managed to deflect the question.
At this point a phone rang and Heather made a dive for a mobile buried beneath the magazines on her bed. “Hi … yeah …, nothing much, what about you?” she said to someone who was obviously far more interesting to her than the boys. Spotting his opportunity Murdo moved quickly and grabbed the street map, which he had seen sticking out of a pile of schoolbooks. Seconds later, the boys were charging down the stairs feeling like they had pulled off a successful mission into enemy territory.
“Saved by the bell!” laughed Murdo jumping the last three stairs and making the house rock as he landed.
“She is seriously scary,” said Fergus hot on his heels. “Has she
always been like that?”
“Mum says it’s a teenage thing. Do you think we’ll get like that too?” said Murdo with genuine concern in his voice.
On Friday morning, Fergus was just going into Narveen’s flat with his mum when Murdo appeared in typical fashion, zooming down the hill on his scooter, his rucksack bursting at the seams. For once there was no sign of Jock as Murdo had decided wisely that following a cat from a distance might be too much of a challenge for him.
Mrs. Speight felt forced to comment on Murdo’s habit of carting so much equipment around with him as she unlocked Narveen’s front door, “I’m surprised you don’t topple over with that weight on. Are you sure you have enough things with you?” she said jokingly.
As serious as ever, Murdo replied, “Well I do hope so. I’ve planned for a full day’s work.” Fergus smiled at his mum. She in turn raised an eyebrow and smiled. They both liked Fergus’s new and slightly eccentric friend.
“So what are you two going to do today?” asked Mrs. Speight as she emptied half a tin of cat food into Sasha’s bowl.
“Murdo is doing a project on cat behaviour,” said Fergus quickly. “We’re going to spend the day tracking Sasha — you know, see where she goes and what she gets up to.”
“Well, good luck, but she could well be faster than you … especially if you’re carrying all that extra baggage with you,” Mrs. Speight said smiling at Murdo.
“So what
have
you got in there?” asked Fergus later, pointing to the rucksack as the boys sat on the doorstep. The start of their exciting day’s tracking had proved not to be very exciting at all as Sasha was sitting on the front step of number 89 soaking up the sun, with no apparent intention of going anywhere.
“Binoculars, file of missing cats, filofax, money, notebook, packed lunch, pencils, pens, street plan, toolkit, torch.” said
Murdo in one breath and in worryingly accurate alphabetical order.
Fergus nodded slowly. “You missed the kitchen sink,” he said.
“Better over-prepared than under-prepared, Fergus,” said Murdo in a superior voice. There were times when Fergus was with Murdo that he wanted to glance at someone and roll his eyes, but unfortunately someone wasn’t always available. He looked over at Sasha instead.
“She’s off!” he shouted, realizing that the cat had suddenly picked herself up from her slumbering position on the front step and was heading off down Comely Bank Avenue.
In one move, Murdo threw on his rucksack and had the time of this first development noted neatly down in his notebook. The tracking had begun and the boys headed off at a fast pace to keep up with the Siamese, who was padding purposefully away from the flat.
Almost immediately the boys were faced with their first problem. They had not bargained on the fact that Sasha had no respect for property or privacy. It wasn’t long before she was sniffing in gardens and the boys found themselves hanging around outside people’s houses for longer than they felt was really acceptable. The memory of being challenged by Jessie was still fresh in their minds, even though that encounter had turned out for the best.
At the bottom of Comely Bank Avenue they found themselves loitering close to Jessie’s flat as Sasha nosed around in a nearby front garden, and the boys agreed it would be good to keep her informed of their latest approach to solving the mystery. Fergus ran over and rang her bell, anxiously looking back to check that he wasn’t missing a sudden change in direction by Sasha.
“Ah, Fergus! What a lovely surprise.”