‘ATTENTION, ATTENTION, WOULD EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO SEE ME LOOKING HANDSOME AND MAYBE GET ON THE TELLY PLEASE GET A MOVE ON.’
‘It’s Rupert Rich!’ Mrs Tucker gasped. ‘He’s about to do the valuation. Sorry, Herman, but you’ll have to catch us up.’ She chased along the path clutching Atticus, Callie and Michael in hot pursuit.
They reached the entrance to the rose garden. Hundreds of people were pushing and shoving their way forwards. They were all carrying the things they had brought to be valued. Some people were wearing jewellery; others had watches and trinkets stuffed into bags. The duty sergeant pushed past with a teaspoon protruding from his pocket. No one was paying much attention to their own antiques because they were all in such a rush to see Rupert Rich and the Tofflys’ tiara.
They would make easy pickings for the magpies.
‘This way!’ Mrs Tucker raced round the outside of the walled garden.
Careful! Atticus bounced up and down in her arms. He was beginning to feel quite sick. It was like being on Mr Tucker’s boat in a hurricane!
Luckily there was another gate and it was unlocked. Mrs Tucker lifted the latch and peered in. The gate opened on to an area of the rose garden that had been cordoned off from the crowds. Rupert Rich was sitting at a table on a stage in front of a bed of yellow roses. Before him was a bank of cameras and behind them, on the lawn, was the crowd. Next to Rupert Rich sat the Tofflys with Mrs Cheddar. A little way away, on the path, Inspector Cheddar paced up and down practising karate chops.
‘There it is!’ Michael whispered. The table was covered with a red velvet cloth. Propped up on the cloth was a battered leather jewellery case marked TOFFLYS’ TIARA – KEEP OFF.
‘Are we rolling?’ Rupert Rich asked the camera crew.
Someone answered by snapping a clapperboard.
Rupert Rich flashed his teeth at the crowd. ‘Welcome again to Get Rich Quick!,’ he cried.
Everyone cheered.
‘There hasn’t been much to shout about so far today, but we’ve had a few nice things to look at, so well done everyone who didn’t bring in mouldy teaspoons from the compost heap!’
The duty sergeant blushed.
‘Now for the part you’ve all been waiting for.’ Rupert Rich paused. ‘The Tofflys’ tiara.’
‘Attack the attic and make a packet!’ The crowd chanted.
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’
‘It’s the magpies!’ Michael whispered.
Mrs Tucker was still trying to get her breath back. ‘I feel like a cod on a fish hook,’ she complained. ‘And my wig’s slipped. But I’ll just have to do. Callie and Michael: you wait here for Mr Tucker. We’ll try and hold them off until he gets here. Come on, Atticus.’ She strolled into the garden.
Atticus lay snugly in her arms, trying to look regal and Henry the Eighth-ish.
‘May I?’ Rupert Rich produced an eyeglass from his pocket and squeezed it into his right eye. He reached for the Tofflys’ leather jewellery case and opened it.
‘Ooooohhhhh!’ The crowd gasped.
The fabulous tiara glittered and shone.
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’
‘Oh no!’ Michael glanced round. ‘We need to hurry. Where’s Mr Tucker?’
‘Oi! Hang on a minute!’
Rupert Rich looked up. A large lady with lopsided blonde hair and a puffy purple dress was making her way on to the stage carrying a large white cat.
‘Who are you?’ he asked.
‘I, my good man, am Countess Salmonella Von Troutperch,’ Mrs Tucker said haughtily, remembering just in time to put on her posh American voice.
‘Go away!’ said Lady Toffly.
‘You’re not invited,’ agreed Lord Toffly.
Mrs Tucker ignored them. ‘I have about my cat’s person something very valuable that I’d like you to take a look at.’ She stroked Atticus around the neck. ‘My dear grandmother’s ruby necklace.’
‘Aaaahhhh,’ the crowd gasped as the cameras panned in on Atticus.
‘Who was your grandmother?’ Lady Toffly asked suspiciously.
‘I’ve never heard of the Von Troutperches,’ Lord Toffly complained.
‘She was the Duchess of Seabass,’ Mrs Tucker said without hesitation. ‘It’s a small island off Cornwall. She lost all her money in the great herring famine of 1920 and sailed to Cape Cod in a tin bath.’
‘Let’s have a look then.’ Rupert Rich was enjoying himself. This was going to make great TV. His ratings would go through the roof. ‘Get ’em off the cat.’
‘Certainly not!’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘Henry never goes anywhere without his ruby collar, do you, Henry?’
Atticus purred complacently. It was fun pretending to be a posh Persian.
‘Put him down next to the tiara, then,’ Rupert Rich said, ‘so I can take a look at them both.’
Mrs Tucker placed Atticus on the table and stepped away from the stage. She winked at him. He was in a perfect position now for when the magpies struck.
Rupert Rich squinted through his eyeglass at the fake rubies. Then he squinted at the Tofflys’ tiara. Then he did the same again.
The crowd held its breath.
‘It’s getting awfully dark,’ Rupert Rich complained. ‘I can hardly see a thing.’
Clouds were gathering in the sky.
Mrs Tucker had joined the children at the gate.
‘The magpies!’ whispered Callie. ‘They’re here.’
‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’
‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’
All of a sudden the birds swooped.
There was pandemonium.
The crowd was packed in tight. There was nowhere to run. The only thing to do was duck as the magpies descended on the rose garden.
‘Keep filming!’ Rupert Rich shrieked, sliding off his chair and hiding under the table.
The cameras rolled as swarms of beady-eyed birds fluttered and pecked at the lovely glittery things all the people had brought to the antiques fair.
‘Don’t panic!’ shouted Inspector Cheddar, trying out a few karate kicks. ‘They won’t hurt you. They’re only after your jewellery!’ WHACK! ‘Oops, sorry, sir!’ He realised, too late, he had bashed the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth on the bum by mistake.
‘Cheddar!’ the Chief Inspector roared. ‘You’re on traffic cones for the rest of your career!’
‘Yes, sir.’ Inspector Cheddar didn’t care any more. All he wanted was to help his wife save the Tofflys’ tiara before the magpies got it. Otherwise she’d never be asked to organise anything ever again and it would be all his fault. He should have listened to her! He started to fight his way through the milling crowd towards the stage.
Up on the stage the Tofflys were frozen with terror.
‘I knew it!’ Mrs Cheddar grabbed the tiara. Atticus threw himself in front of her, yowling at the top of his voice. If Jimmy and his gang tried to steal it, they’d have to get past him first.
Mrs Cheddar stared at his chewed ear. ‘Atticus?’ she said.
Quickly, Atticus licked a patch of fur on his leg so she could see his real colour underneath. ‘PPTHTHPPHTT!’ Mr Tucker’s Thumpers’ Beard Dye tasted disgusting. He spat it out on Lady Toffly by mistake. Her eyebrows went white.
‘Atticus, it really is you!’ Mrs Cheddar cried. ‘Oh, I’m so happy you’re here. I knew all along that those mangy magpies were mostly to blame!’
‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’ Two magpies landed awkwardly on the table. One was thin with a hooked foot; the other was fat with a raggedy tail.
‘Who’s she calling mangy?’ Thug said menacingly, advancing towards Mrs Cheddar. The tiara twinkled tantalisingly in her hand.
‘The wimpy white thing in front of her, I should think,’ Slasher cawed, sidling up beside Thug and giving his friend a crafty look. ‘The one that looks like a soppy snowflake.’
They hopped forwards.
‘Atticus, do something!’ Mrs Cheddar clutched the tiara.
Atticus
…?
Thug and Slasher gazed at the white Persian.
‘He’s got a chewed ear,’ Thug gulped, his knees knocking.
‘You don’t think … I mean it can’t be … Claw, can it?’ Slasher trembled, his beak twitching.
‘It certainly can.’ Atticus grinned, showing them his sharp teeth. ‘Nice to see you, boys. By the way, Slasher, who are you calling a wimp? Only I find that quite offensive coming from a cowardly crow like you.’ He pounced on the birds and pinned them by the tail.
‘Aaarrrghghh!’ screamed Slasher, struggling to get free. ‘Don’t eat me!’
‘Heeellllpppp!’ sobbed Thug, lying flat on his tummy on the velvet tablecloth and covering his eyes with his wings. ‘I’m too young to die.’
Mrs Tucker hurled a lobster pot over the crowd. It landed with a thump on the table. ‘Bung ’em in there, Atticus,’ she yelled. ‘I’m going to help Mr Tucker. He must have got his leg stuck in a drain.’
Atticus tossed the two birds into the lobster pot and snapped the door shut.
‘Mr Tucker’s here?’ Inspector Cheddar crawled on to the stage. He’d had a nasty experience with one magpie that kept trying to hit him in the eye with a teaspoon.
‘And Atticus!’ Mrs Cheddar cried.
‘And the children.’ Mrs Tucker screeched.
Inspector Cheddar grabbed a microphone. ‘Don’t worry!’ he gasped. ‘Everything’s under control. The police have it covered!’ He took the Tofflys’ tiara from Mrs Cheddar and held it up for everyone to see. ‘Rest assured, whatever happens, no one’s going to steal this!’
‘Keep filming!’ Rupert Rich’s voice came from under the table. ‘Tell me when it’s safe to come out!’
‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’ The evil chattering reverberated around the rose garden. The magpies were excited about something. They stopped what they were doing and looked up at the sky with gleaming eyes, jewellery dripping from their beaks.
Sounds like Inspector Cheddar spoke too soon, thought Atticus. I wonder what’s going on now?
Just then he heard the beat of wings.
‘Watch out!’ he yowled.
It was too late.
Jimmy Magpie swooped down from the sky and snatched the tiara out of Inspector Cheddar’s outstretched hand.
‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’ Jimmy landed on top of the wall behind the stage. He placed the tiara carefully over one wing and held it aloft. The magpies chattered wildly.
The crowd watched the huge magpie, astonished. They knew it couldn’t really be happening, but it looked as if he was about to make a speech!
‘This is a great day for magpies,’ Jimmy cawed.
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ the magpies chattered back.
‘This is the day we’ve all been waiting for. This is the day we lay the memory of Beaky, Goon and Penguin to rest.’
The magpies all placed one wing across their breasts and muttered a little prayer.
‘THIS IS THE DAY WE MAGPIES PROVE WE ARE CLEVERER THAN HUMANS!!’
The magpies swaggered about, showing off their loot.
‘You might be cleverer than most humans, Jimmy,’ Atticus growled, ‘but you’re not cleverer than Michael and Callie and their mum. You’re not cleverer than Mr and Mrs Tucker. And you’re certainly not cleverer than me.’ He jumped down off the stage and wriggled on his belly towards the wall.
Mrs Tucker had finally managed to pull Mr Tucker’s wooden leg out of the drain. The children were ready for action.
They watched as Mr Tucker emptied the contents of his trouser pockets into a large plastic bucket. The worms wriggled and squirmed, trying to get out.
Mr Tucker chuckled. ‘Magpies go mad for worms, you maarrrk my woorrrds.’
Next he retrieved the long length of rope. He tied the two ends together in a special fisherman’s knot and threw the loop over a sturdy branch of a big oak tree. Testing the knot first, he tied one end of the rope securely to the handle of the bucket.
The children watched, fascinated.
‘That should do it!’ he said, jumping into the bucket. ‘Edna, you and the kids pull on this end. READY, STEADY, HEAVE!!’
Michael and Callie pulled on the rope. Mrs Tucker pulled behind them. It was like a tug of war only at the other end of the rope wasn’t another team but Mr Tucker sitting in a bucket of worms.
‘Put your backs into it!’ Mr Tucker shouted.
The bucket took off.
Mr Tucker sailed into the air. When he got near enough, he hopped out on to the branch of the tree and untied the bucket from the other end of the rope.
‘Be careful, Herman!’ Mrs Tucker called.
‘Stop fussing, Edna. I’ve been in worse scrapes than this,’ Mr Tucker grumbled. He slithered along the branch with the bucket until he was over the rose garden.
‘Here goes,’ he said. He stuck his hand into the bucket and began to scatter the worms.
The Chief Inspector of Bigsworth was having the worst day of his life. First he’d had to talk to the Tofflys. Then he’d been caught in a crowd of greedy antique hunters. After that he’d been besieged by a gang of ruffian magpies trying to steal his watch. Finally he’d been kicked in the bum by Inspector Cheddar. Nothing could make this evil day any fouler than it already was.
He struggled to feet.
SPLAT!
PHUT! PHUT!
SPLAT!
Something squishy landed on his bald head. He put his hand up to wipe his face and picked off something brown and squashy. The Chief Inspector sighed. ‘Now it’s raining worms,’ he muttered.
Wait a minute. What had he just said?! He stared at the creature in his hand. RAINING WORMS!! The Chief Inspector gazed upwards. SPLODGE! A slug bounced off his cheek.
SPLAT!
PHUT! PHUT!
SPLAT!
Everyone in the crowd, including the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth, covered their faces and began to scream.
‘Bull’s eye!’ Mr Tucker wriggled along the branch, re-tied the knot and jumped back in the bucket. ‘Give me some slack!’
Carefully, the children and Mrs Tucker let out the rope and began to lower him down.
Soon Mr Tucker landed back at the gate.
‘Good work, crew!’ He stroked his beard-jumper. ‘Now let’s catch those creeps!’ He hauled a fishing net out from the shrubbery. ‘Yooze take this end.’ Callie and Michael took a corner each. The net was heavy and bulky but Mr Tucker had folded it carefully so that they could spread it over the magpies easily. ‘We’ll take the other.’
‘Look,’ Michael hissed. ‘There’s Atticus. He’s going after the ringleader.’
They watched as Atticus placed a front paw at the bottom of the wall and began to heave himself up the trellis.
‘Come on,’ Mrs Tucker whispered. ‘We need to hurry. Before those pesky birds realise what’s happening.’
‘THREE CHEERS FOR THE MAGPIES!’
Jimmy Magpie was still in full cry when the worms landed in the rose garden. At first he didn’t notice anything was wrong. He strutted up and down the wall with the tiara over his wing. ‘HIP HIP …’
To his surprise none of his magpie audience said HOORAY. They were chattering rudely about something else.
‘I said HIP HIP …’
The magpies paid no attention.
SPLAT!
PHUT! PHUT!
SPLAT!
Jimmy looked up. He saw a strange-looking human with a long beard and a short jumper (or the other way round) sitting in a tree scattering handfuls of worms over his magpie army. What was he doing?
HOP!
PECK! PECK!
HOP!
Suddenly Jimmy realised what was happening.
‘NO!’ he screeched.
SPLAT!
PHUT! PHUT!
SPLAT!
‘Stop it!’ he yelled.
HOP!
PECK! PECK!
HOP!
‘Can’t you see it’s a trick!’ he squawked.
/> The magpies ignored him. One by one they dropped the stolen trinkets and turned their attention to the worms.
‘NOOOOOOOOO!!!!’ Jimmy shrieked. ‘You need to leave. Now! Scarper! Shoo! The humans are up to something!’
Some of the birds looked up in alarm and flew away.
‘Chaka-chaka-chaka-chaka!’ The rest of the magpies didn’t pay any attention. They were too busy fighting over the worms.
Suddenly the same strange-looking human who had been sitting in the tree a few minutes earlier hobbled through a gate into the rose garden. Jimmy watched in disbelief. He was with the woman in the purple dress who called herself Countess Salmonella Von Troutperch. They were closely followed by two children.
Jimmy blinked. ‘The Cheddar kids!’ he hissed. ‘I might have known.’
‘GET OUT OF THE WAY!’ the countess yelled at the crowd.
Jimmy put his head on one side, puzzled. The countess didn’t sound very posh now. And where was that white cat of hers?
Everyone, including the Chief Inspector of Bigsworth, crawled to the sides of the rose garden and collapsed in the flowerbeds. Some managed to struggle out of the entrance. The only creatures still on the grass were the magpies, jostling over the feast of worms.
Michael and Mrs Tucker ran to the other side of the lawn, stretching the net tight. Callie and Mr Tucker stood by the gate.
‘Ready?’ Mrs Tucker yelled.
‘Ready!’
Holding the corners of the net tightly in their hands, Callie and Michael ran down each side of the lawn. The net flopped open behind them over the squabbling birds.
‘Hold steady!’ Mr Tucker warned, gripping his corner of the net in his hairy fists.
‘I am, you old roach!’ Mrs Tucker gripped hers.
Jimmy Magpie watched in horror.
‘NOOOOOOOOOO!!’ he screeched.
‘OKAY! DROP IT!’ Mr Tucker shouted.
FLUMP! The net landed on top of the remaining magpies.
SQUAWK! The magpies struggled and flapped. Their wings got tangled in the net. It was impossible to escape. They were trapped
‘Bravo!’ Inspector Cheddar yelled, racing round the net and hugging the kids.
Atticus Claw Breaks the Law Page 11