by Adam Frost
“I’m counting on it,” said Wily, grinning.
He ran down to the beach and grabbed the turbo surfboard from where he had left it. He jumped on. After the heat of the oven, the ocean spray felt lovely and cool on his fur.
Petra Platypus worked in Sydney. She wrote reviews of cafés and restaurants – usually nasty reviews. Even on the surfboard, it would take Wily a couple of hours to get to Sydney. He had plenty of time to make a phone call.
He rang Sybil Squirrel. Sybil worked for Julius Hound at PSSST. However, unlike Julius, she was happy to share information with Wily and they often ended up cracking cases together.
“Hey, Sybil, sorry to wake you,” he said when she answered.
“It’s OK,” said Sybil. “I’m on the night shift.”
“Did Julius mention I ran into him yesterday?”
“Yes, I saw the repair bill from the hotel,” said Sybil.
“He said something about investigating a ninja assassin.”
“That’s right,” said Sybil.
“Not a small rodent by any chance?”
Sybil was silent for a couple of seconds. Then she said, “How did you know that?”
“Julius was right for once,” said Wily. “I think maybe we’re after the same guy.”
“The same girl,” Sybil said. “Rin the Ninja Hamster. Deadliest assassin in the history of the ninja order. But why are you after her?”
“I think she’s involved in fixing a TV cookery competition,” said Wily.
“Are you sure?” said Sybil, with a slight laugh. “Sounds a bit … trivial for her.”
“I know how it sounds,” said Wily. “But it looks like there might be more to Megachef than just cookery.”
“OK, MUM,” said Sybil. “I’LL SEE YOU AT THE WEEKEND.”
“Ah,” said Wily. “Did Julius just walk in?”
“THAT’S RIGHT, MUM,” said Sybil.
“Can you give me any clues about where Rin might be? Or how to beat her?”
“I KNOW YOU HATE OPERA, MUM,” said Sybil, “WE WON’T GO TO THE OPERA. YOU THINK THE SINGING IS LIKE TORTURE.”
The line went dead. OK, so Sybil had started talking about opera – that must be the clue. What did the ninja have to do with opera? Was she hiding in an opera house? Wily also thought about the string of numbers again: 14-12-5-13-21-18. Maybe when he’d spoken to Petra Platypus the clue would make more sense. Wily let out a huge yawn. He tapped a button on the surfboard, putting it on autopilot.
“Should try to get some rest,” he murmured.
Two hours later, Wily woke up when his surfboard bumped against Sydney Harbour Bridge. He steered the board towards the shore, leaped off and tucked it under his arm. Then he crossed the road and looked up at a large glass building, glinting in the morning sun. Petra Platypus worked on the seventh floor, at the Daily Digest.
Wily needed a way of sneaking in. If he announced himself in reception, Petra would have time to hide or escape or destroy any evidence. The element of surprise was important. Wily looked up the side of the building. He saw a window open on the seventh floor. This gave him an idea.
He wedged the end of his surfboard into a square of grass on the side of the pavement. One of the security guards had spotted him and was ambling over. Better move fast, he thought.
He pulled the top of the surfboard backwards, until it curled back and almost touched the road. It creaked with tension – like it was about to snap. Wily looked up at the seventh-floor window and twisted the board slightly to the left. Then, quick as a flash, he leaped on to it and let go of the end. The board flipped forwards like a diving board, catapulting him through the air.
As he approached the building, Wily straightened his legs. He shot through the seventh-floor window like an arrow, landing in the middle of a busy newspaper office.
A group of young journalist rabbits peered down at him.
“Surf’s up,” he said, getting to his feet.
Wily strode forwards, looking at the doors that ran along both sides of the office. On the last door on the left was the name PETRA PLATYPUS. He flung it open.
“Haven’t you heard of email?” asked Petra. Her arms were folded and she looked cross.
“I prefer the personal touch,” said Wily.
“OK, so who are you?” said Petra. “The manager of the Raw Prawn? The owner of the Itchy Dingo?”
“What makes you think I’m from a restaurant?” asked Wily.
“Oh, come now, don’t play that game with me,” said Petra. “Every day I write a horrible review of one of the terrible restaurants in this city. People lose their jobs because of what I say. And they always threaten to beat me up or bump me off. As if it’s my fault their food is disgusting.”
“I see,” said Wily.
“So let’s get this straight,” said Petra. “I’m not going to apologize. I just tell the truth.”
Petra had moved forwards and was now nose to nose with Wily. Wily’s brain was whirring. Petra was clearly as tough as nails. How was he going to make her talk? Then he thought of something. He decided to take a chance.
“The hamster sent me,” he said.
There was a split second when Wily thought he’d made a big mistake. But then he saw that it had worked. Petra Platypus was on her knees, gibbering.
“Please, I did what you asked, don’t reveal my secret,” she stammered.
Wily said nothing.
“I let the shrew and the coyote go through. That was the deal.”
“I know,” said Wily.
“So what more do you want?”
“A confession,” said Wily. He pulled out his phone, pointed it at her and pressed record. “Then you have our word that you will not hear from us again.”
Petra looked confused. “You know my secret already.”
Wily nodded and said, “But we need to make sure you will not break your word. Confess, and we can trust you.”
Petra thought for a second or two. Finally she nodded.
“Ten years ago, I stole ten thousand dollars from my best friend. She was left penniless – she nearly died of hunger. I used the money to bribe the editor of the Daily Digest. He gave me my first job as a food critic. I knew nothing about food then – I know nothing now. My whole career is based on corruption and lies. Five days ago, your hamster friend said she would tell the world the truth unless I agreed to rig the semi-final of Megachef. So I did. And I have.” Petra stopped talking and looked down at her feet. “Sounds pretty bad when you say it out loud.”
For about half a second, Wily felt sorry for Petra. But he still needed to find out who was behind this. And why Rin the Ninja Hamster was involved.
Wily pressed the button on his phone to stop the recording.
“There must be no evidence we have ever spoken,” said Wily. “Surrender anything that my hamster friend has ever given you. Any objects. Any letters.”
Petra’s jaw stiffened.
“Come on,” said Wily. “Hand it over.”
Petra didn’t move.
Wily took another chance. “That includes anything you have found out.”
It worked. Petra seemed to make a decision. She walked over to her desk and took a piece of paper out of the top drawer.
“Last time the hamster was here, I analyzed the security footage. She climbed on to the roof and then looked at a note in her hand. I zoomed into it. The letters were blurry but, like most newspapers, we have image-sharpening software. It turned the blurry letters into this.”
She handed over a piece of paper with four words on it.
“You’re wise to have done that,” said Wily. “We suspected that you had spied on her.”
He looked again at the coded message. What did the four words mean?
At that moment, he felt a light breeze ruffle the fur on the back of his neck. Then he heard a scuffling sound. He looked up and sniffed – that rodent smell again. OK. This time, he’d be prepared.
“What are you doing?” asked Pe
tra.
Wily picked up a chair and put a finger to his lips. The hamster was here. But how had she got here so quickly? And what was her plan this time? He listened again. The noise was coming from under the floorboards, then it seemed to move up to the walls. It was a light, scratchy pattering.
Wily glanced up and at the same time, a black streak crashed through the ceiling. He swung the chair round and pinned the ninja to the wall. She glared at him and snapped a chair leg off with her bare paws, wriggling free. Then they were rolling across the floor, pulling each other’s fur and snarling. They burst out of Petra’s office and the journalist rabbits all scattered. Wily saw the open window through which he had first entered the building.
“Let’s. Take. This. Outside,” he grunted.
Wily tore himself away from Rin and ran towards the window. He grabbed a copy of the Daily Digest, then leaped out of the window and unfolded the paper. It wasn’t the best parachute, but it slowed him down slightly. He managed to hit the pavement without breaking any bones. Then he glanced over his shoulder.
The ninja was following him.
Good.
Wily grabbed his surfboard, jumped into the harbour and started it up.
He saw Rin dive into a speedboat and throw the owner into the water.
“Time to head out of the city,” he muttered to himself.
As Wily powered round the edge of Sydney harbour in the direction of Bondi Beach, the ninja zoomed towards him in her speedboat.
“Let’s ride the waves,” he said with a smile.
Bondi Beach was famous for its large waves, but today they were dangerously huge.
Wily led the ninja into a massive breaking wave. The wave hit the side of the speedboat, but Rin clung on, still racing after Wily. He led her to a second wave, then a third. Still she stayed on his tail.
Then came the big one. A three-metre-high wave, thundering towards them at top speed.
Perfect, thought Wily. Time to switch places.
He headed straight for the wave. Rin seemed to hesitate, but then her eyes flashed with anger and she followed.
Wily rode up the wave, letting it turn his surfboard over. Rin accelerated, hoping to crash right through the wave to the other side. The wave carried Wily over the top of the speedboat. He twisted the board round. Now he was behind Rin. She glanced over her shoulder just as the wave broke. The water pushed her backwards – out of the boat and straight into Wily’s arms.
Wily held Rin tightly. She was still dazed from the impact. He rode the wave as it broke, letting the rushing water take them to the shore.
An emu lifeguard rushed over. “What are you two playing at?” he demanded.
“It’s OK,” said Wily. “The game’s over.”
Wily was on top of the Sydney Opera House. He had set up a small tent, a barbecue and a deck chair. On the barbecue, three sausages were sizzling. Tied to the deck chair was Rin the Ninja Hamster.
“Let me go!” she yelled.
“You can shout all you like,” said Wily. “Nobody will hear you up here.” He held up a sausage on a fork. “Want one?”
Rin looked at the sausage and her mouth watered.
“Then you’ll need to tell me what you’re up to,” said Wily.
Rin gritted her teeth. “Never,” she hissed.
“I know you’re not acting alone,” said Wily, biting off the end of the sausage. “Someone’s paying you. And I’ve got two clues. The numbers 14-12-5-13-21-18 that you dropped in Haruki’s kitchen. And a four-letter code: RUM ELEVEN NO PEEK.”
Rin smiled and shrugged, as if to say “I don’t know what you’re talking about”.
“You bribed Haruki Horse and Petra Platypus to let the shrew through,” said Wily. “But Shoma Shrew hasn’t got any money. There’s no way he could have hired you or paid the bribes. So who did? Who’s our criminal? Let’s see if a little music can help us think.”
He opened up a hatch below him that led directly to the opera house. The performers were halfway through a performance and the music floated up.
“A certain squirrel gave me a message about you and opera,” smiled Wily. “I think she was telling me that you HATE it.”
Rin was gritting her teeth. “Close that hatch,” she hissed.
“I can’t imagine why,” said Wily. “It’s so soothing.”
“Unbearable,” muttered Rin. Her arms were tied, but Wily could see she was desperate to place her hands over her ears.
“Did Kia Coyote hire you?” asked Wily.
The soprano was hitting some high notes.
“Awful – warbling,” Rin was mumbling. “Can’t – they – just – sing – normally?”
“What about Charlie Cheetah?”
“Can’t – concentrate,” said Rin. “Terrible – racket.”
“Or someone else at the TV studios?” said Wily.
Rin looked at Wily with fury. “Close the hatch! My father used to play this RUBBISH every day when I was trying to study. It’s like two fog horns blaring out at each other!”
“So tell me who’s behind this.”
“Never,” said Rin, clenching her jaw.
Wily opened the hatch even wider and tilted the chair over it. Rin was looking straight down at the stage. She was shivering and sweating. “Meaningless – deafening…”
“So tell me which—” Wily began.
“No!” Rin shouted. “You can drop me on to the stage, if you like. I still won’t tell you which contestant it is.”
Wily let the chair fall back and closed the hatch. He smiled at her.
“So it IS one of the contestants,” he said.
Rin blinked. “Er, no, I mean, yes.” She was angry with herself now.
“That certainly narrows it down,” said Wily.
He walked across to his tent and started thinking hard. Shoma, Kia or Lenny? He was certain it wasn’t Shoma Shrew or Kia Coyote. And Lenny Lemur had lost, and nobody paid anyone to help them LOSE. Unless…
He felt in his pocket and took out the clues. First the password. He looked at the first five letters. RUM EL. That was lemur backwards. So what happened if he read all of it backwards?
RUM ELEVEN NO PEEK became KEEP ON NEVE LEMUR.
Neve Lemur – not Lenny? Who was Neve?
How about the string of numbers? 14-12-5-13-21-18. Maybe there was a code to crack here, too. What if the numbers became letters? 1 = A, 2 = B, 3 = C, and so on. Then 14-12-5-13-21-18 became N LEMUR!
Wily thought back to the lobby of the Tokyo Lodge Hotel. He remembered seeing Lenny Lemur’s mother standing up for her defeated son. Had she been trying to throw everyone off the scent…?
“Lenny’s mother wouldn’t be called Neve, by any chance?” asked Wily.
“No!” Rin spat back immediately.
“Tut tut,” said Wily, shaking his head. “You should have kept refusing to talk. But denying it so strongly. That’s as good as a confession.”
Wily took out his phone and called Charlie Cheetah.
“Wily,” said Charlie through a mouthful of sandwich. “I’m glad you called. You know the show’s being filmed tomorrow afternoon. I hope you’ve got good news.”
“What do you know about Lenny Lemur’s mother?” asked Wily.
“Nightmare!” replied Charlie. “Threatened to sue me when her son was thrown off the show.”
“But she didn’t,” said Wily.
“No,” said Charlie. “In the end, she backed down. Didn’t even file a complaint.”
“That figures,” said Wily. “Listen – do you know her address?” he asked.
“Lady Neve Lemur, 1 Mongoose Mansion, Kobe,” said Charlie.
“OK, gotta go,” said Wily.
“Hang on, why—” But Wily had already cut Charlie off and was calling Sybil.
“Sybil,” he said. “Thanks for the tip. Your ninja assassin is tied up next to me on top of the Sydney Opera House.”
“Course she is,” said Sybil.
“Come and get her whene
ver you’re ready,” said Wily. “I’m going back to Japan. It’s time for the mother of all showdowns.”
Back on his surfboard, Wily went through the case in his head. Lenny’s mother had paid Rin to scare and bribe the judges. For some reason, she wanted her son to lose. What had Lenny done to deserve that? He texted Albert, telling him he was off to see his latest suspect. Albert texted back immediately.
OK, good luck. I’m working on a gadget that will knock you off your feet.
Three hours later Wily was standing outside the Lemur mansion in Kobe. It was early evening. Behind him was an enormous ornamental garden full of fountains, bonsai trees and a large maze. In front was a beautifully carved wooden door. His brain was crackling with ideas. Who should he pretend to be? What disguise should he wear?
Before he had time to knock, the huge bolts slid back. There was a judder as a large handle was turned. Finally there was the shriek of old golden hinges as the door was thrown open. Two footmen were standing on either side of the door and a housekeeper – a trim, humourless chipmunk in a bright white pinafore – glided out.
“Mr Fox,” she said. “Do come this way.”
Wily blinked. Interesting, he thought. Had they known he was coming? He was led down several long corridors and into a gigantic dining room on which a banquet had been laid out. Down one end of the table, he could hear the squeak of a knife and fork on a china plate.
“I thought you might be hungry,” said a voice behind a giant fruit bowl. “After all, you’ve had a busy few days.”
Wily stepped forwards and saw Neve Lemur wearing a large turban and a red cloak. She dabbed her lips with a napkin and gestured at the table full of food.
“Help yourself,” she said.
Wily picked up an apple and sniffed it. It seemed safe and, besides, Neve was unlikely to poison her own food.