Snakes' Elbows

by Deirdre Madden

  There was silence for a moment or two as they thought about this … and then there was total uproar! Both dogs started to bark excitedly.

  ‘That’s it! How did I think of it? That’s exactly what we have to do!’

  ‘You genius, Bruiser, you clever-clogs!’

  Dandelion was thrilled too. ‘That’s a wonderful idea. There’s only one small problem. How do we get the harness off?’

  ‘Can’t you just take it off?’ Cannibal asked.

  Dandelion explained sadly that ever since she had been made to wear it, she had spent most of her spare time trying to wriggle out of the wretched thing. She had arched her back in the hope of bursting the leather. She had twisted her head round and tried to chew through the straps. Once she had even climbed a tree and hooked it over a branch, then jumped off, hoping that the weight of her body would make the harness break. But it was very strong, and she had only ended up hanging uncomfortably from the tree for ages, until Wilf saw her and lifted her down. ‘I’ve tried everything,’ she said, ‘and nothing works.’

  ‘I bet I could chew through it,’ Cannibal’s thought came to her mind, ‘if I could get close enough to you.’ He poked his snout further through the iron bars and peered into the cellar. ‘Do you see that pile of cardboard boxes? Would you be able to climb to the top of that?’

  ‘Of course,’ replied Dandelion, who was nimble and proud of her skills.

  ‘And then when you’re at the top, could you stand on tiptoes and stretch as far as possible towards the window?’

  ‘I think so.’ She was beginning to feel a little bit more uncertain now. ‘And what will you do?’

  ‘I’ll get as close as I possibly can as well, and I’ll chew through your harness.’

  ‘And I’ll be there to make sure that it doesn’t fall to the floor, that we don’t lose it,’ added Bruiser. ‘How does that sound?’

  ‘Fine,’ replied Dandelion faintly. This was beginning to seem rather frightening to her.

  ‘All right then, let’s do it!’ cried the dogs.

  Imagine for a moment that you’re a small black and white cat who’s been kidnapped. Your toes are sore because you’re leaning so far forward, trying not to fall off the pile of boxes, all crammed full of bullets and bombs, on which you’re perched. An enormous black Alsatian dog has its snout right on your shoulder, and is slowly and carefully chewing through the red leather harness you’re wearing. Even if the dog was your friend, even if you squeezed your eyes tightly closed but could still feel it slobber and drool on your fur, and hear the crunch of its sharp, shiny fangs, tell the truth now: wouldn’t you be at least a little bit afraid?

  Poor Dandelion was absolutely TERRIFIED. All at once, Cannibal stopped chewing. ‘Open your eyes,’ the thought came to her mind, and she did so. The green eyes of the cat stared straight into the soft brown eyes of the dog. How gentle and kind they looked!

  ‘Trust me, my darling,’ Cannibal whispered. ‘We love you dearly. I know this must be horrible for you, but there’s no other way to get you out of Jasper’s clutches.’

  ‘Oh my dear friends, I love you too!’ cried Dandelion. ‘How good you are to me!’

  ‘I’ve almost finished, a few more moments should do it. Close your eyes again, my dear Dandelion. Be brave. Bruiser, move in close please to grab the harness as soon as I break through it.’

  The dog began to chew again, but the cat now felt happy and calm. ‘Almost there, almost there …’ Dandelion felt the red leather harness fall away from her and in that very instant two things happened. Bruiser’s snout snapped through the iron bars to catch it and Dandelion, losing her balance, tumbled straight down to the floor of the cellar, upsetting all the boxes!

  Dazed, she stood up and shook her head, rubbed her eyes with her paws. Far above her was the barred window of the cellar, completely out of reach now, and scattered all over the floor were upended cartons from which spilled hand grenades, bombs and pistols. But what if Bruiser had missed? What if the harness had fallen to the cellar floor too, how would she ever be able to pass it to the dogs to show to Barney? She craned her neck and narrowed her eyes, stared hard. Far above her head, silhouetted clearly against the sky was Bruiser, and hanging from her mouth … the straps of the red leather harness!

  ‘Yes! Yippee! We did it! We did it!’ the animals cried to each other in delight. ‘Hurrah! Hurrah!’

  But now came the next big task – trying to make Barney understand what had happened.

  ‘Whoever’s behind all this must be really thick,’ Wilf said.

  ‘You mean because they can’t spell?’

  ‘No, because they tell you to send them the Haverford-Snuffley Angel, but they don’t say where you’re supposed to send it.’ Wilf was about to pick up the strange letter again when Barney stopped him.

  ‘Maybe there are fingerprints on it,’ he said. ‘Maybe if we took it to the police they might be able to find out who sent it, and then we’d know where Dandelion is.’

  ‘The police told us to get lost,’ Wilf reminded him. ‘I don’t fancy going there again.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ admitted Barney.

  Sighing, Wilf glanced up from the letter and looked out through the window of the room in which they were standing. What he saw there shocked him more than anything he had ever seen before in his whole life. He gulped. He trembled. His face went completely white and his hair shot straight up on his head in wild tufts. ‘Woooooohhhh!’ he wailed. ‘Look, Barney, look! They’ve eaten Dandelion!’

  He pointed a shaky finger towards the garden, where Cannibal and Bruiser were now sitting on the grass, with the red leather harness placed neatly in front of them. ‘Every last little scrap of her, down to her tail and her whiskers. They couldn’t eat her harness because it was too tough, and so they’ve brought it here to show us and to gloat. Oh poor little Dandelion cat, we’ll never see her again!’ And with that Wilf began to bawl and roar.

  ‘There, there, don’t cry so.’ Barney had never seen Wilf so upset. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to him. As Wilf snivelled and sobbed and blew his nose loudly, Barney gazed at the two dogs. They weren’t snarling or barking. They didn’t look vicious and wicked, but gentle and sweet-natured. Cannibal stared deep, deep into Barney’s eyes, put his paw on the harness and gave a little whimper.

  ‘Wilf,’ Barney said slowly, ‘I think you’re completely wrong. These dogs haven’t eaten Dandelion. They would never do a thing like that, they’re her friends. Don’t you remember, they were playing together only the other day.’

  ‘Well where is she then?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Barney admitted, ‘but there’s only one thing for it: we must go back to the police.’

  *

  ‘What! You again?’ cried the policeman as the little group marched into the station. ‘I thought we told you not to come back.’

  ‘But look what lovely dogs they’ve brought with them this time,’ said the policewoman, ‘instead of that horrible cat.’ Leaning over the counter, she rubbed Cannibal between the ears and he whacked his tail on the floor with pleasure. ‘Good boy! Good boy!’ Like Dandelion’s vet, the policewoman was someone who preferred dogs to cats.

  ‘It’s actually my cat I’ve come about,’ Barney said apologetically. ‘Someone’s kidnapped her.’

  ‘Maybe the rolling pin that wears lemony-pineconey eau de cologne and pinched your paintings took your cat too,’ said the policeman, and he chuckled.

  ‘There is a connection,’ Barney said, and he took out the letter and showed it to them, together with the red leather harness. For the first time the police appeared to be interested. Suddenly the policewoman said, ‘I know those dogs! It’s Cannibal and Bruiser, Mr Jellit’s Alsatians. There’s not a week they don’t have their pictures in the Woodford Trumpet. You’re not suggesting he’s at the back of this, are you?’

  ‘I honestly don’t understand how it all adds up,’ Barney admitted, ‘but I do think that’s where we s
hould start looking.’

  ‘You do realise that Mr Jellit’s a very important man,’ the policeman said sternly. ‘If it turns out he has nothing to do with all of this, you’re in big trouble, you are. I’ll charge you both with wasting police time.’

  ‘We should go over there anyway,’ said the policewoman, ‘and bring his dogs back to him. I’m sure he’s worried sick about them, and can’t wait to see them again. You may as well come too.’

  And so Wilf, Barney, Cannibal and Bruiser hopped into the back seat of the big white car behind the policeman and policewoman, and with lights flashing and sirens wailing, they sped off through the streets of Woodford.

  An overworked and weary butler opened the door to them at Jasper’s house, and showed them into the front room. ‘Please take a seat,’ he said, swallowing a yawn. ‘I shall tell Mr Jellit you’re here, and he’ll be with you in a minute.’

  ‘Gosh, it’s really posh, isn’t it?’ said the policeman admiringly, looking around at Jasper’s blue silk sofas and glittering chandeliers. ‘I’m always reading about Mr Jellit’s parties in the paper, but I never thought I’d get to see where they actually happen.’

  ‘Oh look,’ said the policewoman. On a spindly table was a white china dish decorated with butterflies, and full of sweets. ‘Woodford Creams! Imagine being able to have those sitting around in your house every day of the year! We only ever have them when it’s my birthday.’ There was fudge in the dish too, and sugared fruit jellies. ‘Such a pretty dish as well.’

  Just then, the white double doors at the end of the room split open and Jasper breezed in, looking every bit as stylish as his house. As he walked past them, there was a strong smell of eau de cologne, like lemons and pinecones. Barney and Wilf looked at each other in astonishment and raised their eyebrows, but said nothing. They could see that the policewoman had noticed it too.

  ‘Nice aftershave,’ she murmured, and Jasper heard her.

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ he said. ‘No one else in the whole world has eau de cologne like this. It’s unique. Like me!’ And he gave her a winning smile.

  ‘Hello, Mr Jellit. Let me introduce Mr Barrington and his friend, Mr Wilson. They found Cannibal and Bruiser over at their house,’ the policeman said.

  ‘I’m sure you’re delighted to have the dogs back, they’re such wonde—’

  But before the policewoman could finish, Jasper had clipped Bruiser around the ear, and lobbed a kick in the direction of Cannibal, who yelped and ran off to hide behind a sofa. ‘Nasty brutes!’ he cried. ‘I’ll give you what-for later tonight. I’ll teach you to run away from home, and get into trouble with the police, you see if I don’t. Thank you for bringing them back. You can all go now, I’m rather busy, if you don’t mind. I’ll get the butler to show you out.’

  ‘Not so fast, please,’ said the policeman as Jasper moved to ring a small silver bell. ‘You see, at the same time you lost your dogs, poor Mr Barrington here lost his cat. Little black and white cat. Nettles, I think you said its name was.’

  ‘Dandelion,’ Barney gently corrected him.

  ‘That’s right, I remember now. Dandelion. Know anything about where she might be, Mr Jellit?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing. Now if you please—’

  ‘But you see poor Mr Barrington here has been having a really horrible time,’ went on the policeman, interrupting Jasper. ‘Cos as well as losing his cat, he had lots of beautiful paintings in his house, and someone’s gone and pinched those as well.’

  ‘And we, the police, happen to think that whoever has his cat also has his paintings, and so if we could find one, we could find the other,’ said the policewoman.

  ‘Do you indeed?’ said Jasper. ‘Aren’t you a clever girl to have such an interesting idea? Anyway, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in the police? You should be a film star! I’ve an idea, I’ll throw a party next week, and invite all sorts of people from Hollywood. Why don’t you come along and I’ll introduce you—’

  ‘To get back to Mr Barrington’s cat,’ said the policeman, interrupting Jasper again.

  ‘And his paintings,’ added the policewoman.

  ‘Oh snakes’ elbows! Who cares?’ said Jasper crossly, losing his temper. Then he remembered that Barney was actually there in the room before him. ‘Look Mr Barrington, I’m sorry for you, but you should be more careful with your things and you aren’t going to find them by standing here. Go home and look again, more carefully this time. I don’t know where your miserable cat is, nor your rotten paintings.’

  ‘Mr Jellit,’ said the policeman, ‘I don’t believe you. I think that’s a great, big, fat fib.’

  ‘No it isn’t.’

  ‘You see, when you join the police,’ said the policeman, ‘the first thing they do is to give you this,’ and he held up his whistle. ‘And the second thing they do is to give you this,’ and he held up his baton. ‘And the third thing they do is to teach you how to know when someone’s telling you lies and you, Mr Jellit, are not telling me the truth!’

  While all of this was going on, everyone had forgotten about Cannibal and Bruiser. They didn’t notice when Bruiser sidled over to the table where the dish of sweets sat, until the moment when she jumped up and with an almighty crash sent the whole thing flying: table, dish, jellies, fudge and Woodford Creams.

  ‘You wretch!’ screeched Jasper, and he lunged towards the dog, but she had already started to gobble up squares of fudge.

  And with that, Bruiser simply disappeared.

  Everyone in the room gasped, except Jasper, who said something extremely rude, and then the policeman and policewoman looked at each other.

  ‘So that’s how he did it!’ the policeman said. The policewoman turned to Cannibal and spoke urgently. ‘Where’s the cat? Good boy! Good boy! Show us where the cat is.’ Cannibal immediately turned and ran out of the room.

  ‘No!’ shrieked Jasper, but they all followed the dog, who led them straight to the door of the cellar.

  ‘Locked,’ said the policeman, trying the handle. ‘Open it at once, Jellit.’

  ‘Why, this is ridiculous,’ said Jasper, and he laughed, smiled flirtatiously at the policewoman. ‘You don’t want to go to my cellar. A little sweetie-pie like you would hate it down there, for it’s full of nasty spiders. Why don’t we all just go and have a glass of champagne instead?’ But he knew it was no use. The policewoman bopped him hard on the head with her baton.

  ‘Listen, Mister, let me set you straight on a few points. I am not your darling. I am not a pretty little thing. I am not your sweetie-pie and above all else I AM NOT AFRAID OF SPIDERS! Now open this door immediately!’

  Whimpering, Jasper took a long iron key from his pocket and unlocked the cellar door.

  Dandelion thought she was dreaming when all of a sudden, there at the top of the steps were Jasper, the policeman, the policewoman, Cannibal, Wilf and … Barney! With one enormous leap she was in his arms, snuggling and cuddling up, purring and being petted more than ever before in all the time since the first day Barney found her, patting the dandelion clocks with her paws. He slipped her down the front of his cardigan and the little cat knew that she had come home.

  The police thought that they were dreaming too, to see the floor of the cellar littered with bombs and bullets and guns, simply hundreds and hundreds of them, scattered from the upended boxes. And in the middle of it all, a beautiful painting of a salmon! The policewoman hurried down the steps and pulled away all the old curtains to reveal every last one of Barney’s stolen pictures.

  The policeman turned to Jasper. ‘Mr Jellit,’ he said politely, ‘I made a mistake. I told you that when you join the police, the first thing they do is to give you a whistle. It isn’t true.’

  ‘No?’ said Jasper.

  ‘No,’ said the policeman. ‘The first thing they do is to give you these.’ And taking out a pair of shiny silver handcuffs, he snapped them smartly on to Jasper’s wrists.

  As I told you right at the begi
nning of this story, all the people who lived in Woodford thought of it as a most unremarkable little town. Imagine, then, their astonishment when they heard of the extraordinary events that had been unfolding in recent days. There was so much news in the Woodford Trumpet the morning after Jasper’s arrest that it was ten times thicker than usual, and all the paperboys had great difficulty stuffing copies through the letterboxes.

  As in every house in town, the butcher and his wife sat reading at the kitchen table over breakfast. The butcher was in his string vest, his wife in a short frilly nightie with curlers in her hair, and both of them were boggle-eyed with amazement.

  ‘A secret bomb factory hidden in the woods! Who’d have thought it? If anything had gone wrong, the whole town could have been blown to pieces,’ said the butcher.

  ‘And Barney Barrington having all those wonderful paintings in his house and none of us ever knowing about it,’ said his wife.

  ‘Magic fudge!’

  ‘Jasper Jellit an art thief!’

  ‘And a cat-napper! You couldn’t make it up.’

  ‘And above all, Jasper isn’t even his real name. It’s Jimmy!’ They read and marvelled as their bacon and eggs grew cold on the plates before them, and their cornflakes turned to a wet mush. But there was another surprise to come in the newspaper the following day with a huge black headline that covered most of the front page:

  ‘GENEROUS GENIUS GIVES GOB-SMACKING GIFT!

  ‘BRILLIANT Barney Barrington has made the EXTRAORDINARY decision to give ALL his paintings to the town of Woodford. In an EXCLUSIVE interview with the TRUMPET the marvellous musician told our reporter, “I was UPSET when the pictures were STOLEN and then I lost my cat DANDELION too. I began to think about what was really IMPORTANT in life. I realised that perhaps I’d been SELFISH keeping the pictures all to myself. And so when the POLICE found them for me, I decided that I would GIVE them to the ART GALLERY. I can go down to SEE them every day if I want, and EVERYBODY in the WHOLE TOWN will be able to see them too. I asked Wilf what he thought and he said that it was A REALLY GOOD IDEA.”