Catscape (8 page)

Murdo’s plans for the stakeout involved as many different ways of being close to the shop at different times of the day as possible and over the next few days the boys got to know Raeburn Place very well in their efforts to learn more about Stein’s the Fishmongers. They spent as much time as near to the shop as they could, without making it too obvious that they were doing so. They walked past on the other side of the road together, they cycled past individually, they pretended to bump into each other outside the shop and they had conversations looking over each other’s shoulders. Jock got quite frustrated with it all as what he thought was going to be a decent walk never seemed to turn into one.

Jessie was in on the stakeout as well. She was rediscovering a few recipes having missed out on fish dishes for years. She went into the shop three times during the week and struck up conversations with the staff as she bought a variety of seafood. By the end of the week she concluded that the shop sold excellent fish. The only problem she had encountered was a paper clip accidentally wrapped up with a piece of cod that she had bought. “I could have choked on that!” she said brandishing the paper clip, which she had since filed in her cardigan pocket. “Still the cod was rather good,” she added. Fergus found himself hoping that Jessie hadn’t filed the bones away in her pocket for future reference too.

Spurred on by Jessie’s efforts, Fergus couldn’t resist the temptation to go inside the shop too, but he knew that he had made his mum slightly suspicious by suggesting that they ate a fish dish and then offering to go and buy the chief ingredient.

“Why the sudden liking for fish?” asked his mum.

“Come on, Mum, it’s good for you. You should eat what’s put in front of you,” said Fergus with an impish smile.

Jessie had instructed the boys to “switch on their beady eyes” for the week, so they did their best to concentrate hard each day. Murdo even set the alarm on his DataBoy to bleep every hour, at which point he summarized the previous sixty minutes’ activity in a new notebook bought specially for the stakeout. After several days the three investigators had deduced that there were four main people in the shop.

There was a large and fearsome woman who served behind the counter. Murdo began describing her in his notebook as “Beetroot” because of the colour of her face. Fergus had found her rather scary when he had gone into the shop, realizing quickly that she had little patience if you didn’t know exactly what you wanted. Even Jessie, who the boys would have thought could have chatted to anyone, came back talking about Beetroot. “I think these days they would say that she did not possess the people-skills required of a customer service position.”

During the week Beetroot was helped occasionally by a lanky man with a whiskery chin and a long sharp nose, which Murdo thought looked like a runner bean, a vegetable that he particularly disliked. “Beanface,” as the man became known, seemed to spend most of his time carrying large boxes around and bringing fish through to the counter from the back of the shop. The boys had also seen him driving a white van to and from an archway a few doors along from the shop. On investigating more closely they found that this led to a lane and courtyard behind the shop.

Fergus, Jessie and Murdo had seen much less of the other two people, but it was these men who they all agreed that they wanted to know more about.

The straight-backed, dark-haired, suited man with the goatee beard had all the hallmarks of being the boss, as he was only
occasionally near the front of the shop and was too smartly dressed to spend any length of time near the smells and splashes of a working fishmonger. Fergus described him as the “least likely-looking person to manage a fish shop.” He was usually seen coming and going in an unnaturally shiny blue four-wheel drive with the registration plate “STE 1 N.” They all decided from Day One that this was Davidson Stein.

The final one of the four was the biggest mystery. By the end of the week they didn’t know his name and had no idea what he did. Murdo called him “Cogs.” “He’s doing all of his work behind the scenes,” he said explaining his choice of name. Sure enough, Murdo’s notebook revealed that the bespectacled young man usually arrived early each day and left promptly at 5pm but was never seen around the shop area. The only other daily sighting was when he nipped out for a sandwich at lunchtime, which he sometimes ate while reading a book in the park. Rather confusingly, at the end of Day Three Cogs didn’t seem to leave the shop or appear the next morning, but at the end of Day Four he emerged as if he had been there all along. The boys were convinced that the stakeout had been thorough but either Cogs had arrived particularly early and left particularly late on Day Three, or he had spent the night in the shop, which they agreed was too bizarre to be possible.

The three concluded that they had built up as much of a picture as they could from the stakeout, and that they had all bought as much fish as was possible in such a short period of time without seeming suspicious.
Murdo had put forward a strong case that the natural next step should involve trying to find out more about Cogs, simply by following him at the end of a working day. This was partly because he was the one they knew least about, but also because he was the only one who left the shop on foot, as Stein swished away in his four-wheel drive, Beanface roared off in the white van and Beetroot was collected by an equally beetroot-coloured
and equally large man in a sagging rusty car.

Jessie was only happy with this proposal on three conditions. The first was that the boys would go no further than their parents would normally allow. The second was that they borrowed her old mobile phone, Jessie having just upgraded to a new, slim and silvery one the day before. The boys had to promise her to call at the first hint of a problem. The third was that they had to swear solemnly that they would not climb any walls or try to get into anyone’s garden.

“I don’t think that jumping on walls is Cogs’s style,” said Murdo defensively.

Jessie replied that she didn’t know what his style was, but if it involved scaling any vertical structures the boys were not to follow him.

And so the boys and Jock took up position in the bus shelter close to Stein’s Fish Shop waiting for Cogs to emerge, but found that he was taking longer than they had bargained for. Fortunately, Murdo had brought some entertainment along in his rucksack but after half an hour of hangman and a game of travel chess, they were once again at a loose end.

“Let’s call Jessie,” said Murdo and they used her phone to check in and tell her that there was no progress as yet.

“I bet your sister would be impressed with Jessie’s new phone,” said Fergus.

“Yeah, she’d be dead jealous,” said Murdo with a grin. He then looked thoughtful and said, “Actually we could have a bit of fun here.”

Murdo quickly opened Jessie’s old phone again, checked the memory function of his DataBoy for a phone number and began to text. Fergus leaned over his shoulder for a better view.

Murdo keyed in “Hi how r u” and pressed “send.” Within a minute the phone bleeped and the reply “Who r u?” popped up on the mobile’s tiny screen.

“A secret admirer,” texted Murdo giggling. Again there was a
short delay and the response “give me a name.”

“What name shall I put?” said Murdo.

“Who does she really like?” asked Fergus.

“A boy at school called Danny MacKay,” said Murdo sticking two fingers down his throat and pretending to gag. He returned to his texting and keyed in “Danny M” and after a pause added “I think u r really cool.”

This time the phone bleeped faster than it had done before. Murdo chuckled as he read it and held the phone up so that Fergus could see it.

“I think u r gr8” was the message.

“It’s not often my sister has said that to me,” said Murdo with a smile. “I should frame it!” Then he looked suddenly serious. “I will be in so much trouble if she ever finds out that was me.”

Suddenly the boys were distracted. The white van pulled out from the archway and roared past them with Beanface at the wheel.

“Right, back to business. We’d better concentrate. There’s no point being on a stakeout and not progressing the investigation.”

Fergus smiled to himself as the business-like Murdo returned. It was just in time because as Murdo put the phone away Cogs appeared at the shop door.

“Let him get as far as the Post Office before we start following,” said Murdo.

Cogs headed down Raeburn Place, walking briskly and adjusting the weight of a black bag over one shoulder.

“That’s a bag for a laptop,” said Murdo. “Dad has one of those.”

“Why’s he got one of those? I can’t imagine they’re much use when you’re filleting fish,” said Fergus. “Come on, we’d better go.”

Cogs reached the Post Office and continued to walk away from the fish shop. The boys soon found that following him wasn’t too
difficult and the only time they began to worry was when the young man looked around three times in quick succession. At first they thought that he had noticed that he was being followed, but after a moment’s panic they realized that he was just checking whether or not a bus was coming as he approached a bus stop. He paused briefly at the stop but then decided not to bother, and set off again with the boys walking about thirty metres behind. Jock was happy as they seemed to be going a bit further than any other day that week.

Eventually, they approached a residential area where other pedestrians had dwindled to one or two. The boys were feeling a bit more exposed as they continued to follow at what they felt was a safe distance. They began to hang back a bit more, but then disaster struck. Cogs rounded a corner and when the boys reached it, he had gone.

“No way!” said Murdo disbelievingly

“He’s vanished,” said Fergus looking around. The sign above told them that they were in Nelson Street but all that it had to offer were rows of closed doors. The boys looked up at a series of blank windows, trying to spot movement in one of the flats that would show them that someone had just returned home. They gave nothing away except reflections of the buildings on the other side of the road.

“I can’t believe we had him all that way and then lost him!” said Murdo.

“At least we know this street has some sort of connection,” said Fergus trying to find something positive out of this frustrating situation.

Suddenly the red front door of number 10 opened and a young woman came out. She walked briskly down the steps to the pavement and headed straight for a sporty bottle-green Mazda. As she unlocked the car she placed a laptop bag on the passenger seat. She climbed in, started the
engine and accelerated away quickly.

“That was the same bag,” said Fergus. “There was a grey stripe on the side and a buckle hanging off.”

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t sharp enough to get the car registration though,” said Murdo.

“MM2,” said Fergus. “Personalized number plate.”

“I am reminded at times why it is useful having you around,” Murdo nodded, as he checked his watch and scribbled these new facts in his notebook.

At that moment a head appeared at the boys’ feet. Jock barked a friendly “hallo.” A man had come upstairs from a basement flat and was now level with the pavement where the boys were standing.

“Afternoon, boys,” he said. “You look lost, can I help?”

“No we’re …,” started Murdo.

“Doing a treasure hunt,” finished Fergus quickly.

Murdo looked at Fergus with a blank expression.

“Yes,” said Fergus pointing at Murdo’s notebook. “We … er … need the names of the residents of Number 10 Nelson Street. This is Nelson Street, isn’t it?” he said vaguely.

Murdo joined in the act and waved his notebook as if they had been collecting Treasure Hunt answers all day.

“Well,” said the man, “The names are on the buzzer, so that’s easy enough for you.”

“Who’s who though? asked Fergus anxiously. “Who lives on which floor?”

“Well, I can help you there,” said the man. “Paul Lomax is on the top floor. The Traynor family are in the middle. Those are their kids’ bikes against the railings, and Mrs. Connor lives on the ground floor. Then there’s me, Philip Thomas, in the basement.”

“Is Paul Lomax the guy with the glasses and the laptop bag?” asked Fergus, trying to sound like he was just making polite conversation.

“Yes, he’s some sort of computer whizz,” said Mr. Thomas. “He was a student until last year but seems to have landed a good job. I suppose it’s the profession to be in these days. So are you going to get a prize?” asked the man.

“Sorry?” said Fergus.

“For the Treasure Hunt,” said Mr. Thomas, pointing to Murdo’s notebook.

“Certainly hope so,” said Murdo. “Come on, Fergus, we’d better go! Thanks for your help,” he called as they set off.

“We’re getting good at this,” said Fergus out of the corner of his mouth as they turned and headed back towards Comely Bank. Murdo nodded as he pressed the “dial” button on Jessie’s mobile.

“Just reporting in,” he said importantly. “We’re heading back to base with important new information.”
“So they’ve got a computer guy working in a Fish Shop — what is that all about?” said Jessie thoughtfully as the boys sipped juice in her front room.

“Tell me about the car again.”

“It was very flash,” said Murdo.

“It was a Mazda,” said Fergus.

“And who was driving?” asked Jessie.

“She was as flash as the car,” said Murdo.

“Dark hair — short, dark glasses — wraparound, dark jacket — leather,” said Fergus.

“This guy is good,” said Jessie looking at Murdo and nodding sideways at Fergus.

“That’s why I took him on,” said Murdo seriously.

“Heh, I took you on!” Fergus protested.

“I thought I’d taken both of you on!” said Jessie with a smile. “Now boys, that was a good piece of work today. I’ve been thinking about the next step. We need a way in. We need to get into the back of the fish shop.”

“We could break in at night!” said Murdo with a flourish
of his fist, his eyes brightening with the thought of planning another escapade. “We’ll get some wire, pick the lock on the back door of the shop, then disable any alarms and put the guard dogs to sleep with some drugged meat. We’ll tie up any security guards, tape their mouths and then we’ll start the search with our headtorches on …”