Atticus Claw Settles a Score

by Jennifer Gray

  Atticus doubled back across the courtyard to make sure the Cheddars weren’t still waiting for him at the Jewel House. He stopped dead when he saw the broken-down van. Where were they? And what had happened to the Crown Jewels?!

  ‘MMMMYYYYYYAAAAAAAWWWWWWW!’

  Atticus’s fur stood on end. It was Ginger Biscuit.

  He knew!

  Atticus didn’t have time to wonder how Ginger Biscuit knew. His first thought was for the safety of the ravens. His second was for himself. And, thinking about it a bit more carefully, he decided, it should have been the other way around. Ginger Biscuit had forgotten about the ravens. All Biscuit cared about now was revenge.

  Atticus retraced his steps across the courtyard, keeping to the shadows. The quickest way out was back through the archway past the Bloody Tower, but that might be the first place Biscuit would look. He needed to be careful. He’d got halfway when he heard a voice calling his name.

  ‘Atticus!’

  Atticus could hardly believe his ears. It was Michael!

  ‘Atticus!’

  And Callie!

  ‘Atticus!’

  And Inspector and Mrs Cheddar!

  Atticus’s heart glowed. The Cheddars had waited for him. They were trying to find him, before Biscuit did. He bounded towards the voices.

  ‘There he is!’

  The Cheddars had reached Tower Green. They started running towards him.

  Atticus leapt into Callie’s arms.

  ‘Oh, Atticus, we’re so pleased to see you!’ Callie buried her face in his fur.

  ‘We were so worried about you!’ Michael scratched his ears.

  ‘We thought that horrible ginger cat might have got to you first!’ Mrs Cheddar held his paw.

  ‘Well done for keeping the ravens safe!’ Inspector Cheddar tickled his tummy. ‘It was a brilliant bit of police-catting.’

  Atticus purred throatily.

  ‘MMYYYYYYYYAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!’

  Atticus’s blood went cold.

  The Cheddar family turned.

  Ginger Biscuit was advancing towards them from the direction of the Bloody Tower, his ears flat to his head.

  ‘I’ll handle this.’ Inspector Cheddar took a step towards Biscuit and put his hand up as though he was stopping traffic. ‘Hold it right there,’ he ordered.

  Atticus swallowed. He didn’t think this was a good idea. Inspector Cheddar didn’t realise what Ginger Biscuit was capable of.

  Ginger Biscuit kept on coming.

  ‘Darling …’ Mrs Cheddar began.

  Inspector Cheddar shook his head. ‘Not now.’ He held up his other hand. ‘I said, stop,’ he commanded.

  Ginger Biscuit ignored him. He slithered along on his belly, his pale blue eyes fixed on Atticus.

  Atticus shook with fear. Inspector Cheddar was no match for Ginger Biscuit.

  ‘All right, Biscuit, if it’s trouble you want …’ Inspector Cheddar took a pair of handcuffs out of his overall pocket and held them up. ‘Try these for size.’

  Ginger Biscuit seemed to notice Inspector Cheddar for the first time. He stopped and regarded him with a hostile stare. ‘SSSSSSSSSSSSSS.’

  ‘That’s more like it,’ Inspector Cheddar took another step towards him. ‘It may come as a surprise to you, Biscuit, but I’m not really a royal electrician. I’m an officer of the law.’

  Atticus clung on to Callie, terrified.

  ‘SSSSSSSSSSSSS.’

  ‘And I’m arresting you on suspicion of stealing the Crown Jewels.’ Inspector Cheddar made a lunge for Biscuit. ‘You do not have to meow anything, but anything you do meow may be taken down and used as evidence against you in a court of law.’

  There was a flash of ginger.

  ‘AARRRRGGGGHHHH!’ Inspector Cheddar lay spreadeagled on the ground. Ginger Biscuit was on his back. SNAP! There was a sound of metal on metal. ‘The beastly Biscuit’s handcuffed me!’

  Ginger Biscuit jumped away, snarling, the key to the handcuffs between his teeth. He tossed it out of reach.

  ‘SSSSSSSSSSSSS!’ Biscuit glanced at Atticus. Then his pale blue eyes turned on Michael and Callie. POP. POP. POP. POP. One by one he popped out the claws on his right forepaw. POP. POP. POP. POP. Then on his left.

  Atticus watched, horrified.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, kids,’ Mrs Cheddar stepped in front of them. Her voice trembled. ‘Everything will be all right.’

  At that moment Atticus knew he loved the Cheddars more than anything else in the whole world. He also knew that everything wouldn’t be all right unless he acted fast. Biscuit was the world’s meanest cat. And he was after one thing and one thing only: HIM! Ginger Biscuit didn’t care who got hurt in the process: even women and children weren’t safe when he was around. There was only one thing to do. Atticus gave a quick wriggle and jumped out of Callie’s arms.

  ‘Atticus!’

  Ignoring the Cheddars’ cries, he flew past Ginger Biscuit.

  Ginger Biscuit was taken by surprise. ‘MMYYYAAAWWWWWW!’ With a roar of anger he turned and raced after Atticus.

  Atticus dodged past the Bloody Tower, through the archway and back on to the cobbled street. He skidded to a halt. Ahead of him was Traitors’ Gate. For a moment he thought of charging down the steps and along the muddy bank, hiding in the murky shallows away from the barge. Biscuit wouldn’t think to look for him down there; he knew Atticus hated mud. But then Atticus heard the water slapping at the stone. The tide was in. There was no escape that way. Only a gloopy, sticky death.

  He glanced to his right, towards the portcullis and the bridge over the moat. Atticus gulped. Zenia Klob was standing a few feet away from him. Zip! A hairpin winged past his whiskers. It clinked as it hit the ground. He saw Zenia raise her hand to her head. She was getting ready to fire another one. This time she wouldn’t miss. He’d have to find a different way out.

  ‘MMYYAAAWWWWW!’ Behind him, Ginger Biscuit was closing fast.

  Atticus sprinted to his left. Ahead of him he could see Tower Bridge, lit up against the night sky. If only he could get on to it, then he could chase back towards the Tube station and get help, or dash across to the other side of the river where the Commissioner had some of his officers posted. It didn’t really matter which way he went. Ginger Biscuit would follow him. And as long as Biscuit was following him, he couldn’t hurt the Cheddars, or the ravens, or the Queen.

  There was an opening to his right. Atticus took it. All of a sudden he found himself on a walkway suspended above the Thames. Atticus turned left and charged towards Tower Bridge.

  ‘MMYYAAAWWWW!’ Ginger Biscuit wasn’t far behind.

  Atticus raced on. His legs were aching. The problem with being a pet was that you didn’t get as much exercise as you did when you were a cat burglar.If he ever got back to Littleton-on-Sea he’d have to do something about that. Maybe he and Mimi could go on some walks together. But he mustn’t think about Mimi now. Panting hard, he reached the end of the walkway and started up the steep steps to the bridge. He didn’t turn around. Ginger Biscuit was gaining on him. The ginger cat’s cries were growing louder: they echoed savagely in Atticus’s ears.

  ‘MMYYAAAWWWW!’

  Atticus clambered up. The steps seemed to go on forever. His heart was hammering. His paws were sore. Keep going, he urged himself. The further away Ginger Biscuit is from the Cheddars and the ravens, the better. He struggled up the last few steps.

  ‘SSSSSSSSSSSS!’ Ginger Biscuit was seconds behind. ‘You’re for it, Claw.’

  Atticus looked about wildly, trying to decide which way to go. He didn’t know the way to the Tube from here! But he didn’t know how to find the Commissioner’s men on the other side of the river either! He took a few steps along the bridge.

  ‘Any last words?’ Ginger Biscuit had reached the bridge. Atticus backed away. He didn’t have a choice now. He had to cross Tower Bridge. Exhausted, he stumbled towards the other side. It was hard going – like climbing a hill. It seemed to get steeper and steeper
. Atticus crept on. He was so tired he could barely put one paw in front of another. He glanced behind. Ginger Biscuit had slowed down too, crawling up the slope behind him, like a lion ready to pounce, his pale blue eyes fixed on Atticus. Atticus shook his head. Something was wrong. The bridge was getting steeper and steeper! He wasn’t just imagining it. What was going on?

  ‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’

  Atticus looked up. Five magpies were circling above him, chattering with laughter.

  ‘Try to steal my ermine, would you?’ Thug taunted.

  ‘Double-crossing cat!’ Slasher cawed.

  ‘Biscuit’s going to crunch you,’ Pig grunted.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Atticus demanded, trying to keep his voice strong. He felt himself slipping backwards, towards Ginger Biscuit. He gripped on with his claws and hauled himself forwards.

  ‘This is better than teasing robins!’ Gizzard chuckled.

  ‘It’s almost as good as pooing on washing!’ Wally agreed.

  The magpies flapped and chattered.

  ‘Atticus Claw is falling down,

  Falling down,

  Falling down,

  Atticus Claw is falling down,

  ’Cos of the magpies.’

  ‘Tell me what’s going on!’ Atticus wanted to pin them but he couldn’t. He needed both front paws to hang on.

  ‘I thought you’d have guessed by now,’ Slasher crowed.

  ‘Yeah, not so smart now, are you, Atticus Claw,’ Thug cawed.

  ‘Jimmy’s in the control tower,’ Gizzard explained.

  ‘He’s opening the bridge,’ Pig laughed.

  ‘You’ve had it, pussycat!’ Wally hooted.

  Atticus twisted his head. Above him at a high window he could just make out the silhouette of Jimmy Magpie. He had a lever in his beak. Now Atticus understood. He’d seen pictures of Tower Bridge in Mrs Cheddar’s guidebook. It opened in the middle to let ships through – the two sides lifting vertically up in the air. That was what was happening now. That was why he felt like he was climbing a mountain. He was!

  ‘Give up yet, Claw?’

  Atticus felt sharp claws reach for his tail. He twitched it away, just in time. ‘Never!’ he hissed, clinging on to the top of the bridge.

  ‘I should have killed you when I had the chance the last time,’ Ginger Biscuit was so close Atticus could smell his ratty breath. ‘You couldn’t finish the job then and you couldn’t finish it now. I should have known you’d never have the guts to kill those ravens.’

  ‘I don’t like killing,’ Atticus said. He was going to die anyway. He might as well tell Biscuit the truth. ‘I won’t do it. Not for you. Or Klob. Or anyone. The ravens are safe thanks to me. And I’m proud of it.’

  ‘It doesn’t make any difference,’ Ginger Biscuit snapped furiously. ‘Zenia and I got what we came for – the real Crown Jewels. Your stupid Cheddar family couldn’t fool us with their dumb electricians’ disguises. Zenia got them off the Inspector, no problem. They’re on the barge.’

  This was news to Atticus. But it didn’t matter about the Crown Jewels. The ravens were safe. So were the Cheddars. And the monarchy. Atticus had a feeling that Her Majesty would be pleased.

  ‘People are more important than jewels, Biscuit,’ Atticus whispered. ‘So is friendship and loyalty. That’s something you’ll never understand.’

  There was a flash of ginger. FLIP! All of a sudden Atticus found himself dangling by his claws over the edge of the open bridge. Biscuit was sitting above him, perfectly balanced. He seemed to have no fear. Atticus glanced down. The river was miles beneath, the water twinkling in the moonlight. A little way along the bank he could see Klob’s barge floating towards them. There was only one other boat on the river. It was moving swiftly along in the opposite direction. He wondered vaguely if the Commissioner was on it. Or Monica Mint. Or the Queen. It didn’t matter. It was too late for him. Atticus felt sick. His head was swimming. His claws ached.

  ‘Don’t lecture me about loyalty, Claw.’ Biscuit’s face loomed above him. The magpies were flapping about his head. ‘It won’t make any difference where you’re going.’ POP. POP. POP. POP. ‘Goodbye …’ Ginger Biscuit reached for Atticus’s throat. ‘… loser.’ He shoved him off the bridge.

  ‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’

  The last thing Atticus saw was Jimmy Magpie, swooping towards him with wild, glittering eyes.

  Atticus felt himself falling … falling … falling. The air rippled his fur. Any minute now and he would feel the water coming up to meet him like an iced brick. His life flashed before him – his kittenhood with Ginger Biscuit and Klob; his escape to Monte Carlo; the international life of cat-burgling that followed; the magpies; his home with the Cheddars; Mrs Tucker’s basket of fresh sardines … He heard a roar and closed his eyes.

  THWUMP! He landed in something soft. The roar subsided.

  PUTT-PUTT-PUTT-PUTT-PUTT-PUTT. It was replaced by a chugging noise.

  Atticus sniffed. He could smell fish. Without opening his eyes he put out a paw. Whatever he had landed on was woolly and hairy; all knitted together in a big tangle. There were bits in it too. Tentatively he picked one out with a claw and put it in his mouth. A morsel of sardine! Atticus felt a growing excitement. It couldn’t be! Could it?

  ‘Youze all right in there, Atticus?’ A man’s voice boomed in one ear.

  ‘We got here as fast as we could.’ A woman’s voice bellowed in the other. ‘Just as well by the looks of things,’ it added disapprovingly. ‘Falling off bridges when we’ve paid for you to be having a nice quiet holiday – you can’t take some cats anywhere!’

  ‘Meow!’ Atticus cried joyfully. He opened both eyes. He could hardly believe his luck. He had landed in Mr Tucker’s beard-jumper! Mrs Tucker was there too. The two of them were standing on something solidish in the middle of the Thames, rocking gently to and fro, with their hands on their hips, staring at him.

  ‘Edna thought you might need a little help,’ Mr Tucker chuckled, lifting him gently off his beard-jumper and sitting him on a pile of nets. ‘So we dropped everything and jumped in me old rustbucket of a fishing boat and sailed here as quickly as we could!’ He shivered. ‘I thought we was too late for a minute when I saw youze hanging off the edge there. It’s lucky we made it.’

  ‘Meow?’ Atticus was puzzled. How did they know he was in trouble?

  ‘I expect you’re wondering how we knew you were in trouble.’ Mrs Tucker glared at him. ‘Apart from the fact that you’re the sort of cat who’s always in trouble!’

  Atticus’s chewed ear drooped.

  ‘Don’t youze worry, Atticus,’ Mr Tucker whispered. ‘She doesn’t really mean it. I’ve never seen her so worried.’

  ‘Fortunately for you,’ Mrs Tucker continued crossly, ‘we saw Klob’s broadcast. So I picked up the hotline to the Prime Minister. He told me you’d been to see the Queen and let me in on her plan.’

  Atticus stared at her. His whiskers twitched. Mrs Tucker? Phoning the Prime Minister?? On the hotline???

  ‘There’s no need to look so surprised, Atticus,’ Mrs Tucker snapped. ‘I haven’t spent my whole life cleaning fishhooks and gutting sardines. Before I married Mr Tucker I was Edna Whelk, secret agent.’

  Atticus’s mouth dropped open. Mrs Tucker a secret agent?

  ‘Here.’ Mrs Tucker reached into her basket and shoved a sardine between his teeth. ‘In those days I worked for MI6. My mission was to capture Klob.’ Mrs Tucker’s eyes narrowed. ‘I came close a couple of times, but she always gave me the slip with those disguises of hers, not to mention a couple of hairpins in the backside.’

  ‘The Prime Minister thought if youze were working on the case for Her Majesty, Atticus,’ Mr Tucker said, ‘Edna might like another crack at catching Klob.’ He lit his pipe and sucked on it noisily.

  ‘Darned right, I would!’ Mrs Tucker exclaimed. ‘I’d have nailed her by now if someone –’ she waggled her finger at Atticus – ‘had bothered to tell me wh
at was going on sooner. And I’d have bagged those mangy magpies. And that beastly ginger cat, Digestive Biscuit, or whatever his name is. Anyway, better late than never, I suppose.’ She rolled up her sleeves. ‘Get me the night-vision binoculars, Herman,’ she ordered. ‘And be quick about it.’

  Mr Tucker clanked across the deck. ‘Blaaaarrrrst this wooden leg,’ he cursed. ‘It makes me slower than a sea slug with scabies.’ He clanked back with the binoculars.

  ‘Pass them here.’ Mrs Tucker grabbed them.

  ‘What can you see, Edna?’ Mr Tucker asked anxiously, cutting the engine and letting the boat idle. ‘Any sea monsters?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Herman, this is the River Thames, not the Pacific Ocean.’ She twiddled the focus. ‘Biscuit’s coming down the steps from Tower Bridge. He’s on the walkway. He’s waiting for something.’

  The barge! Atticus thought.

  ‘Hold on …’ Mrs Tucker adjusted the binoculars. ‘There’s a barge pulling alongside. Biscuit’s walking towards it. He’s jumping on board. The magpies are following him.’

  ‘Can you see Klob?’ Mr Tucker demanded.

  ‘There’s someone at the helm.’ Mrs Tucker sucked in a big gulp of air. ‘It’s her all right: I can see the hairpins.’

  Atticus followed her gaze. He didn’t need night vision binoculars. Cats can see in the dark and it was easy for him to make out the barge and the figures on board.

  The barge pulled away. Mrs Tucker tucked the binoculars under her armpit. ‘Right. Here’s the plan. We’ll give Klob a head start so she doesn’t suspect anything. Then we’ll ram the barge and board it. I’ll take Klob. Herman and Atticus – you net Biscuit and the magpies.’ She rubbed her backside. ‘And watch out for hairpins.’

  Mr Tucker nodded. ‘Aye aye, Agent Whelk!’

  Atticus jumped off the nets. Four more figures had appeared on the walkway.

  ‘Meow!’ he yowled. ‘Meow! Meow! Meow!’