Catscape (9 page)

“Boys,” said Jessie firmly. “There are times when I shall be pulling rank because of my age. Now is one of those times. We will
not
be involved in any illegal activities. We have enough intelligence between the three of us, four including Jock, not to have to resort to that sort of behaviour. Murdo, I appreciate your enthusiasm but I do not want to have to visit you in prison and start planning ways of breaking you out instead of breaking in.”

Murdo looked like he was beginning to wish he had chosen two other words than “break” and “in.” Fergus kept quiet, secretly relieved that there would be no more break-in attempts to add to their efforts at the manhole cover a few days before.

“Well, we can get into the front part of the shop easily enough, but how do we get beyond the counter?” said Murdo trying to restore some credibility.

“You need to work there,” reasoned Fergus.

“Or have some reason to go to the back of the shop, like for some sort of meeting, for example,” mused Jessie.

“So we need a way to get two boys, a dog and an old woman to a meeting in a fish shop,” said Murdo. He suddenly realized what he had just called Jessie and went bright pink.

“That’s all right , Murdo,” said Jessie, “I am old and I’m a woman. Just don’t feel that you have to remind me too often.”

“How old are you?” said Murdo trying to make polite conversation and failing miserably. He promptly went even pinker. “Er … I’m sorry, Jessie …”

“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be wise enough not to let being old enough to be wise enough concern me,” said Jessie.

Fergus had to scrunch up his eyes and squidge his brain around a bit to make sense of what Jessie had said, but he got there eventually. Meanwhile, Murdo looked rather blank but smiled, relieved that he had succeeded in remaining on friendly terms with Jessie after almost offending her twice in one minute.

“Now … where were we?” Jessie said with a wink at Fergus. “Why
would
two boys, a dog and an old woman want to have a meeting in a fish shop?”

“I can’t see why two boys and a dog would have a meeting there, but I can see why a
woman
might,” said Fergus who had been pondering on this. Jessie and Murdo looked at him expectantly.

“To make a complaint,” he said. “My mum’s always writing letters of complaint and sometimes in shops she’ll ask to see the manager. It’s
so
embarrassing.”

“So simple and yet so brilliant,” said Jessie nodding enthusiastically. She rummaged in her cardigan pocket and held up the paper clip that she had found with her fish. “Boys, I give you Exhibit A. A perfect reason to ask to see the manager and get beyond the counter.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “The only problem is that in doing it that way you’re not getting a chance for a quick look around.”

Murdo looked like he was itching to point out that his idea of breaking-in would have provided them with plenty of opportunities to look around without being seen.

“I think we’re on the right track,” said Jessie. “Okay, so here’s the story so far. A woman makes a complaint and asks to see the manager. What happens next?”

“The manager asks the woman into his office to discuss the matter?” said Fergus.

“The manager listens patiently to the woman making her complaint,” said Murdo picking up the story.

“The manager has to leave the office for a few minutes leaving
the woman on her own to prowl around,” said Fergus sounding a bit uncertain and feeling like he had skipped a few lines.

“Why
does
the manager leave the office?” said Jessie spotting the gap in Fergus’s story.

“The toilet!” said Murdo jumping up.

“It’s just at the end of the hall,” said Jessie with a smile and another wink to Fergus.

“No!” said Murdo in frustration sitting down again. “The manager leaves the office because he needs the toilet!”

Fergus looked perplexed, “How exactly do we plan a meeting to coincide with the manager needing to go to the loo?”

“We could slip something into his tea that makes him need to go!” said Murdo excitedly.

“How do we know he’s going to have a cup of tea? Do we take a flask in with us?” asked Fergus in exasperation.

“Boys, boys, we might be investigators but we’re not quite MI5,” said Jessie. “Whilst we’re still operating in Comely Bank I think we’ll avoid drugging people’s hot drinks and save those tactics for when we move into international espionage. Now why does the manager leave the office?” Jessie repeated.

Murdo’s eyes flashed as he fired suggestions off like a machine gun. “He might go to fetch something, to feed his parking meter, to put the kettle on or to get a glass of water for the woman who’s now feeling faint?”

Fergus began to suspect that Jessie had an answer up her sleeve.

“Because he’s suddenly needed elsewhere,” said Fergus.

“Exactly,” said Jessie.

“Why’s he needed elsewhere?” said Murdo.

“Because two boys and a dog are creating an almighty disturbance in the shop,” said Jessie.

Jock growled, barked and began to spin round in a circle chasing his tail.

“Exactly, Jock,” said Jessie.

The hatching of the plan to get inside the fish shop was done in Jessie’s living room and involved her preparing a short speech, the boys speculating on the actions of the fish shop staff and then synchronizing their DataBoys with Stan’s old watch.

“Timing is everything in this next stage of the campaign, boys. You must play your part at exactly the right time for things to work out,” Jessie said, as she tucked Stan’s watch into her cardigan pocket.

The next day had been chosen to put the plan into action and the boys were in position early, once again loitering at the bus stop just far enough away from the fish shop to see but be unseen. Jock sat quietly having seemingly accepted the bus shelter as some new kind of home. The boys had already noted the arrival of Beetroot and Beanface and the subsequent opening of the shop, and as soon as they saw Stein’s four-wheel-drive sweeping through the archway to the back of the shop thirty minutes later, they called Jessie to start the thirty minute countdown of what Murdo had called “Operation Paper Clip.”

Twenty-nine minutes and three seconds later, according to the stopwatch on Fergus’s DataBoy, the boys saw Jessie coming into view, limping slightly as she headed purposefully along Raeburn Place towards the shops.

“Does she ever wear anything else?” asked Murdo, noting that once again Jessie’s pink cardigan was her fashion statement for the day.

“Why would she?” said Fergus. “She has everything she needs in those pockets.”

The boys watched her march up to the fish shop and head in
without hesitation or even a glance in their direction.

“What a professional,” murmured Murdo nodding appreciatively.

Unfortunately if Murdo had seen what happened next he might have changed his opinion. Things started smoothly enough as Jessie strode up to the counter and asked to see the manager of the shop, announcing that she had a matter of complaint, which she was only prepared to discuss with him. Beetroot looked distinctly unimpressed at this request, her face scrunching up as if she had been swatted on the nose with a bunch of nettles, but with a grunt of disapproval she wheeled round and went to the back of the shop.

It was then that despite all of the planning and practising, Jessie found herself momentarily floundering. Stein emerged from the back of the shop and politely offered her the chance to follow him to his office, behaving exactly as their plan anticipated he would in his efforts to preserve good customer relations. It was as Stein ushered Jessie behind the counter along the corridor and into his office, that Jessie found herself in a panic. She simply hadn’t thought of who she was going to be for the next few minutes and being Mrs. Jenkins suddenly didn’t seem like a good idea.

“Please do come through this way Mrs. …?”

“Sprockett,” Jessie blurted, surprising herself with how quickly she produced a false name and immediately regretting the fact that she had come up with such a ridiculous one.

“Mrs. … Sprockett, I am so sorry to hear that you’ve had cause to complain,” Stein said smoothly. “Now tell me all about it and we’ll see what we can do,” he continued, showing Jessie to a chair and walking around his neat desk. Jessie took her time to settle into the seat to give herself the chance to recover from having to think on her feet. She noticed how Stein’s goatee beard was so neat that every hair looked as though it had been individually positioned. Stein
sat down opposite her, a wall of books and folders on the shelves behind him, and smoothed out an invisible wrinkle in his dark suit. He placed his hands together, his perfectly manicured fingers pointing upwards and gave Jessie what she reckoned was probably his most winning smile. With his mouth forced up at the corners giving a glimpse of gleaming teeth, Stein looked like a fox who had just eaten a shed full of chickens.

“Now,” said Stein, “how can I help?”

“It’s a simple enough story,” said Jessie picking up on the plan once again. “I purchased some fish recently from your shop and found this in it.” Jessie produced the paper clip and held it up with a flourish.

“Well,” said Stein taking the offending article and examining it carefully like a scientist examining a small insect. “That is most unusual, and of course highly irregular. I would be happy to offer you both my fullest apology and some appropriate compensation. Please tell me exactly when this took place.” Stein’s expression had changed to one of concern, his forehead crumpled into a deliberate frown.

Jessie began to explain in more detail when she had purchased the fish, knowing that if the plan went smoothly she wouldn’t have to get too far into her story. She did her best to continue speaking as the first of some muffled sounds and raised voices could be heard through the closed door of the office. Stein’s steely blue eyes flickered momentarily as he registered the disturbance outside, but he continued to give Jessie his full attention, until the barking started. Jessie knew that they were now three and a half minutes into this stage of the plan and Jock was beginning to play his part. Just as they had hoped, the sound of an increasingly agitated dog in the shop was too much for Stein to ignore.

“Please excuse me for one moment, Mrs. Sprockett,” he said, still smiling as he slipped off his seat and around the desk to the
door. “This doesn’t sound quite like a normal morning.”

Stein left the room leaving the door half open. Jessie quickly and quietly pushed the door a little further shut, and turned to look at the office with a glint of determination. It was time for
her
to switch on her own beady eyes.

Stein’s desk was terrifyingly tidy. Even the paper clips appeared to have been counted, polished and individually placed. The documents on his desk were neatly set out like a display rather than a working office, but from what Jessie could see of the titles, they were all related disappointingly to the business of managing a fish shop.

Moving behind Stein’s desk she looked along the names on the folders, files and books, which formed the wall behind. She spotted the titles
Invoices, Three Year Business Plan
and
The Entrepreneur’s Encyclopaedia
in her first glance.

The barking could still be heard although Jessie kept glancing back at the door to make sure she was safe. As she did so, a splash of colour caught her eye. She looked more closely at the photo frame on the desk that had attracted her attention. The picture was of a dark-haired woman in sunglasses perched on the bonnet of a green sports car. The registration “MM2” was just visible.

“Well, well, well,” said Jessie.

She turned her attention back to the bookshelf and continued scanning the contents, running a finger along the spines of the books as she did so. All the way along the titles seemed to relate to running small businesses or to the fish industry, until Jessie’s eye was drawn to one which seemed different.
“Total Recall
by Maxine McDermott,” said Jessie quietly, “M. M.? I wonder.” Jessie threw half a glance back to the photo on the desk and slid the book from the shelf, flicking the back cover open as she did so to reveal a short paragraph on the author along with a photo.

“Dark hair — short, dark glasses — wraparound, dark jacket — leather. Bingo!” said Jessie quietly. Jessie slid the book back onto the shelf and turned her attention to Stein’s desk, quietly opening the top drawer. At the top was a small tray neatly stocked with staples, drawing pins and paper clips. The only thing that seemed out of place was a short length of black wire with a microphone on the end. “Has that been cut or was it chopped in half by a falling drain cover I wonder?” thought Jessie to herself.

“Interesting, very interesting,” she said quietly moving the tray aside to look at the files stored in the drawer. The first one was entitled “The Chamber — Technical Specifications.” At the sight of the next one Jessie froze, her head in a spin. She began to pull out the folder marked “Nine Lives — Launch Plans” when she heard footsteps and suddenly realized that she had been distracted enough not to notice the barking coming to an end. Shoving the file back in she shut the drawer quickly and turned to get back to her seat, but as she did so she felt a pull at her arm. She continued to her seat tugging as she went before looking round to find that a thread of wool from the sleeve of her pink cardigan had snagged on the drawer and stuck in it as it had closed. She could hear Stein just a few steps away and there was no time to release it. Jessie lunged back to her seat just before the door opened, the thread of wool unravelling from her sleeve even further as she did so. As Davidson Stein strode back into the room, the long pink thread still connected her cardigan with the top drawer of his desk. Fortunately for Jessie, Stein walked around the other side of the desk and the distraction of the situation in the shop continued to take his attention as he sat back in his black leather swivel chair.

“My apologies, Mrs. Sprockett. What a ridiculous situation. Two boys completely unable to control their irritating little dog in the middle of my shop.”

“Oh dear,” said Jessie trying to sound sympathetic as she
tried as subtly as she could to tug on the thread without Stein noticing. It was no good. It was stuck fast.

“Never mind,” said Stein shaking his head briskly and making a precise note to himself on an otherwise blank sheet of paper. “One of my staff will do some follow-up work there and ensure that there is no such behaviour again. Young people today are out of control.”

“Isn’t it people of my generation that are supposed to say things like that?” said Jessie, trying to sound relaxed, as she again masked the fact that she was tugging as hard as she could on the tight pink thread leading from her sleeve right around Stein’s polished desk.

Stein managed a short clipped laugh. “Mrs. Sprockett, I can only apologize. I have been distracted from your distressing situation. Please do accept my sincere apologies and this voucher,” he said writing on a compliments slip with a flourish of a fountain pen. Jessie took the slip awkwardly, covering up the problem with her cardigan as she leaned forward. “Exchange for goods to the value of £20,” she read out, “Well, thank you for taking my complaint so seriously,” she said starting to feel bad that she was being rewarded for snooping around his office.

Jessie was rapidly running out of reasons for remaining in Stein’s office and desperately needed some delaying tactics until she could free herself. “That’s a lovely photo,” she said nodding at the frame on his desk. “Is that your wife?”

As soon as Jessie had asked the question she knew that she had made a mistake. It felt like a chill had descended on the room. “It’s very clever of you to see the photo from where you’re sitting,” said Stein quietly. His eyes appeared to darken and his gaze sharpened.

“I can never resist looking at a photo,” said Jessie trying to make light of the situation.

“Did you resist the chance to look at much more while I was
out of the room?” said Stein, his eyes flitting around his office to find anything out of place.

“Mr. Stein, I don’t like what you are insinuating,” said Jessie trying to sound like an insulted old lady even though she knew that she was really in the wrong and had been found out.

Stein looked down to where Jessie’s pink cardigan was attached to his desk. He calmly opened the top drawer, freed the thread and began to neatly roll it around two fingers. Stein now assumed the manner of a prosecutor in a courtroom who has just made a breakthrough with a chief suspect. “Mrs. … eh … Sprockett,” he said in a deliberate way that suggested that he now didn’t for a minute think that “Sprockett” was Jessie’s real name. “You must forgive me … boys, dogs, wandering ladies with x-ray vision in the same morning … I hardly know which way to turn today.”

Stein stood up and walked around his desk. He handed Jessie the little ball of wool with one hand while with the other he reached over and took the voucher back from Jessie’s hand before tearing it slowly into four identically sized pieces.

Jessie could think of nothing else to say even though she knew that her silence exposed her as being guilty. She walked out of the shop feeling very hot under the collar of her cardigan. Any triumph that she had briefly felt from getting into Stein’s office and finding a folder about “Nine Lives” and an identity for “MM” had long since vanished.

Afterwards the boys excitedly told Jessie their side of the story of Jock kicking up a fuss in the shop and Stein’s reaction when he appeared behind the counter.

“If he’d snarled any more loudly some of his fish would have flapped on to the floor!” chortled Murdo.

“Even Beanface and Beetroot looked scared,” said Fergus, grinning with the memory of the thrill of causing a stir.

“Then he virtually threw us out of the shop and tried to give
Jock a kick,” said Murdo suddenly going serious.

“Mind you, Jock did try and bite his ankle,” said Fergus.

But none of the boys’ enthusiasm could lift Jessie out of her downbeat mood and they realized that she felt she had let the side down badly. They tried to cheer her up even though they weren’t quite sure how much they had lost or gained from her visit to the shop.

“Jessie, you did well,” said Fergus trying to be positive. “We were going nowhere with ‘MM2’ before today. We can order the book that you saw and see if that helps fit her into the jigsaw. You never know where that might lead.”

“And a folder for ‘Nine Lives.’ That means that we know Stein has a big interest in cat food. That has to be a major breakthrough,” added Murdo

“And you saw the microphone,” continued Fergus. “That confirms that Stein’s property is below the manhole cover.”

“But Stein had no idea that anyone was interested in him until today and I don’t trust him at all. I think he could be dangerous,” said Jessie limping around her living room and unable to settle. “I gave the game away — choosing a stupid surname, mentioning that photo and then this wretched cardigan. I’m just a stupid old woman and I’ve let you down.”

Try as they might the boys found it impossible to reason with Jessie and cheer her up, so they left, agreeing that they would be in touch in the next few days with any developments.