‘Blimey, she hasn’t let up since we arrived!’ Thug commented.
Once Pam had recovered from the shock of seeing Jimmy emerge from the diplomatic bag, she had let rip with a festering blast of pent-up resentment, which was still continuing hours later.
‘CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA-CHAKA!’
‘SQUAWK! SQUAWK! SQUAWK! SQUAWK! SQUAWK!’
‘She’s not still on about that mirror, is she?’ Thug’s ears were blocked with soapsuds.
Slasher cocked his head to one side. ‘No. She’s back to why he didn’t visit her in prison.’
‘Oh.’ Thug cleaned his ears out with a claw. ‘That again!’
‘Nearly a year I was in there, Jim!’ screamed Pam. ‘And you never came to see me – not ONCE!’
‘I’ve already told you, you dozy parrot, I was BUSY!’ Jimmy shouted back. ‘B-I-Z-Z-Y. BUSY! But you wouldn’t know what that was, would you, you bird-brained cockatoo,’ he yelled, ‘cos you never get off your backside to do anything except order everyone else around!’
‘Bit like you, Boss!’ Thug joked.
Jimmy and Pam turned on him. ‘Shut up and get back to work!’ they chorused.
Just then the door opened. Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel strode in. Ribena trailed in his wake.
‘Get off the sofa!’ she screamed when she saw Jimmy and Pam fighting.
‘Who’s a hippopotamus?’ Pam replied rudely.
Ribena went red in the face. ‘Benjamin, what have you been teaching that revolting parrot?’
‘I didn’t teach it to say that!’ Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel protested. ‘It must have learnt it in Her Majesty’s Prison for Bad Birds. Come here, Pam.’ He withdrew a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and laid it on his shoulder. Then he scooped Pam up carefully and perched her on top of it.
Pam gave Ribena a triumphant look. She dipped her tail. Thhhthththtththththththth! A large parrot dropping landed on the floor beside Ribena’s left foot. Ribena shook her fist at Pam.
‘Temper, temper,’ said Pam.
‘I don’t know why you dislike her so much, Ribena,’ the Ambassador said to his wife. ‘I’m rather fond of her. I shall be sad when we have to release her into the wild.’
Pam nuzzled up to him and nibbled his ear. ‘Who’s a pretty boy, then?’ she said.
‘Stop sucking up to Benjamin,’ Ribena shouted at Pam. She vented her anger on Jimmy, shooing him up to the top of the curtains. ‘I don’t know what Mummy and Daddy were thinking, bringing magpies here in the diplomatic bag,’ she moaned. ‘As if a parrot isn’t bad enough.’
‘I bet the magpies were after Howard Toffly’s journal,’ Benjamin said. ‘Crafty little beggars got into the chest before your parents did. They want that lost treasure. You know how magpies are with shiny things.’
‘Well, they can’t have it,’ said Ribena. ‘Mummy and Daddy are Howard Toffly’s nearest living relatives. It belongs to them.’
Benjamin guffawed. ‘Nice try, Ribena,’ he said. ‘Slight problem: technically it belongs to the Nicaraguan government and the people of Central America, not your parents.’
‘Oh, Benjamin, you’re not going to go all clever on me, are you?’ Ribena said with a sigh. ‘Mummy and Daddy need this treasure. They’re hard up.’ Her face darkened. ‘I blame the Tuckers. And that rotten police cat, Atticus Claw.’
Benjamin clapped her hard on the back. ‘Don’t worry, Ribena, I’m on your side really. I’d love to be the one to find the lost treasure of the jaguar gods. It would be the greatest archaeological discovery ever made: absolutely brilliant for my career. Her Majesty might even make me into a lord!’
What Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel didn’t let on to Ribena was that he had been dreaming of little else for two days now, or that he’d been getting up early to practise his lordship acceptance speech in front of the bathroom mirror in four hundred languages (three hundred of which were extinct), or that he had no intention whatsoever of letting Lady Toffly get her hands on any of the treasure, which he would return to the Nicaraguan government in a blaze of publicity, or quite how much he was looking forward to rubbing Lady Toffly’s nose in it when he was a lord and she was still living in a caravan polishing spoons. He imagined the headlines:
DARING BRITISH HERO
DISCOVERS LOST TREASURE
ARISE LORD POSH SAYS QUEEN
TO NEW FAVOURITE PEER
LADY TOFFLY LICKS
SON-IN-LAW’S BOOTS
He was also planning a book:
MY LIFE AS A LORD
by Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel
‘You wouldn’t really give the treasure away, would you, Benjamin?’ Ribena asked suspiciously.
‘Good heavens, no!’ Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel lied. ‘We’d just give a little bit to the Nicaraguan government, so they wouldn’t suspect anything.’
Ribena seemed satisfied. ‘The question is, Benjamin, how are we going to get hold of this journal of Great-Uncle Howard’s. It seems as though that police cat has got everything covered. Mummy says he’s a real pain in the derrière; so is his boss, Inspector Cheddar, and the whole of his cheesy family. Whatever you do, Benjamin, you’ve got to keep them out of it. We don’t want them interfering.’
‘Don’t worry, Ribena,’ Benjamin said. ‘They won’t. I’ll make sure of it. Look at this.’ Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel opened the top right-hand drawer of the desk, withdrew a plain manilla folder and stamped it TOP SECRET.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s a dossier of everyone apart from us who knows about the lost treasure of the jaguar gods,’ Benjamin replied. ‘Take a look.’
Ribena glanced down it.
Ribena’s face lit up. ‘Professor Verry-Clever was your old teacher at university?’
‘Yes, Ribena,’ Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel said smugly. ‘He taught me everything I know about Ancient History. And I’m the first person he’s going to think of when he decides to mount an expedition to find the lost treasure of the jaguar gods. Who better than Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel, the British Ambassador to Nicaragua, to lead it, especially if he was once your top student?’
‘Clever you!’ Ribena gushed. A thought struck her. ‘I say, Benjamin, you couldn’t arrange it so that the Tuckers came, could you? I mean, that way if they met with a nasty accident in the jungle no one would know and Mummy and Daddy could get their house back.’
‘Very well, Ribena, I will try.’ If it gave his wife pleasure to arrange a nasty accident in the jungle for the Tuckers, thought Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel, then so be it. (Even though the Tofflys still wouldn’t get their house back as they wouldn’t actually have got any treasure!) He folded his arms across his chest and sat back and waited for the phone to ring.
BRRRING BRRRING! BRRRING BRRRING!
BRRRING BRRRING! BRRRING BRRRING!
He picked up the receiver.
‘Hello,’ said a voice. ‘This is Professor Verry-Clever. Is that you, Benjamin?’
Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel raised a knowing eyebrow. ‘Professor Verry-Clever?’ he said. ‘Yes, this is Benjamin. What a lovely surprise. How can I help?’
‘Something important has come up,’ Professor Verry-Clever said. ‘I need your help. I want you to lead an expedition to the jungle …’
Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel listened politely for a few minutes, as if it were all news to him. ‘Of course I will, Professor,’ he said. ‘On one condition.’ He winked at Ribena. ‘I get to choose who comes.’
A few days later Atticus stood on the quayside at Littleton-on-Sea with the Cheddars and Thomas: they had come to say goodbye to Mr and Mrs Tucker and Bones.
‘I still don’t understand why we’re not going on the expedition,’ Michael said crossly.
Atticus didn’t really get it, either. All he knew was what he’d been told that morning at breakfast: the Tuckers were sailing to Nicaragua in Mr Tucker’s boat, The Jolly Jellyfish, to find the lost treasure of the jaguar gods and they weren’t. It wasn’t fair!
‘I’m sorry, darling, but
that’s how it is,’ Mrs Cheddar said.
‘Professor Verry-Clever said we could,’ Callie argued.
Yeah! thought Atticus. He was feeling crosser and crosser. He was the one who’d found Howard Toffly’s stuff in the first place. If it weren’t for him there wouldn’t even be an expedition.
‘At least it will give us a chance to get to the bottom of the potting-shed crime,’ Inspector Cheddar said.
Atticus’s ears drooped. He’d already got to the bottom of the potting-shed crime: and he wanted to go with Mr and Mrs Tucker and Bones! So did Thomas. The kitten looked as fed up as Atticus felt. He started meowing piteously. Atticus joined in. Perhaps if they both made a fuss someone would listen to them!
‘See!’ said Callie. ‘Atticus and Thomas want to go too.’
Atticus rubbed his body around her socks. At least the children understood him.
‘Look, I know it’s disappointing,’ Mrs Cheddar sighed, ‘but Professor Verry-Clever said his hands were tied.’
Professor Verry-Clever?
‘But he said we could go!’ Callie stamped her foot.
‘I know, but he’s not going on the expedition, either.’
‘Who is, then?’
‘The British Ambassador to Nicaragua – Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel: he’s a former student of Professor Verry-Clever. Apparently the whole thing is very sensitive. Everything needs to be agreed with the Nicaraguan government. And they don’t want too many people involved.’
‘How come the Tuckers are going, then?’ sulked Callie.
‘Because Mrs Tucker is ex-MI6, that’s why,’ Inspector Cheddar said. ‘She’s got clearance.’
‘Why don’t we have clearance?’
There was an awkward silence.
‘Unfortunately the Nicaraguan government got hold of Atticus’s record,’ Mrs Cheddar said quietly. ‘They know he’s a former cat burglar. They think that makes us a security risk.’
Atticus felt awful. He hadn’t thought of that. Was that the reason why none of them were allowed to go: because he had a criminal record?
‘But that was ages ago!’ Callie said.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Inspector Cheddar replied sternly. ‘Things like that stay on your file: it’s one of the reasons why you shouldn’t do them in the first place.’
Atticus hung his head. There was no need to go on about it! He followed the others along the jetty to where The Jolly Jellyfish was moored. Bones was busy preparing everything for the voyage. She gave Atticus a wave. Atticus waved back. Bones liked to have everything shipshape. He didn’t want to disturb her concentration. She and the Tuckers had a long journey ahead of them.
Mr and Mrs Tucker were in the cabin, checking off supplies. Mrs Tucker had another tank top on today which said “Edna Rocks”.
‘There you aaare, Atticus!’ Mr Tucker scooped him up. ‘And Thomas!’ He scooped the kitten up too. Come and have a look at me list to see if I’s forgotten anything.’
Atticus read it carefully.
‘What’s the giant parachute for?’ asked Callie.
‘That’s to attach to the The Jolly Jellyfish so we can parachute over the waterfall without getting smashed to smithereens like The Pink Dolphin did.’
What about the fart spray?’ asked Michael.
‘That’s to put in me pants to get rid of the poisoned frogs.’
‘Eeerrrgggh!’ said Callie.
Eeerrrrggggh! was about right, thought Atticus. He didn’t think there would be many frogs brave enough to jump into Mr Tucker’s pants anyway.
‘How about I sing a quick sea shanty to get us in the mood for the voyage?’ Mr Tucker said, putting down the cats.
‘We’re not going on the voyage,’ Michael said gloomily.
‘All the moorrrre reason for a shanty, then!’ Mr Tucker insisted. ‘It’ll lift your spirits.’
He began tapping his wooden leg on the floor.
Atticus felt his tail twitching to the beat. Mr Tucker’s voice rang round The Jolly Jellyfish.
‘I’s got me alarm and I’s got me basher,
I’s got me worms and I’s got me smasher,
Don’t youze go messing with Herman Tucker,
Or you’ll get it in the neck, you beastly bloodsucker!’
‘What happens if you meet the jaguar gods?’ asked Callie.
‘There’s no such thing as the jaguar gods,’ Inspector Cheddar said.
Atticus sighed. He wished Inspector Cheddar would stop saying things like that. It almost certainly meant that there was such a thing as the jaguar gods if he said there wasn’t!
‘What about the jaguars that Howard Toffly saw, then?’ Callie argued back.
‘Yeah, Dad, he said they were protecting their territory.’ Michael stuck up for his sister.
‘And their treasure.’ Callie stuck up for her brother.
‘That was over a hundred years ago,’ said the Inspector. ‘They’ll be well dead by now.’
Atticus just hoped the Tuckers would be all right without him. Even if the jaguars weren’t gods and the ones that Howard Toffly had seen were dead, there might still be lots of others in the jungle.
‘Professor Verry-Clever says the jaguars will be wary of humans,’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘He says the Ambassador will take care of them if they do attack.’
‘How?’ asked Michael.
‘I don’t know. I suppose he’ll bring a tranquillizer gun. Apparently he’s a very good shot.’
Atticus’s eyes narrowed. He instinctively didn’t like people who were very good shots. It usually meant they’d been practising on animals. He hissed.
‘Don’t youze worry, Atticus,’ Mr Tucker said soothingly. ‘I reckons it’s mainly the deadly river creatures we needs to look out for, not the jaguaarrrrrs. I reckons they’ll leave us well alone.’
Atticus wished he were going. If only the Ambassador hadn’t found out about his cat burgling!
‘Isn’t it going to take an awfully long time to get to Nicaragua?’ Michael said.
‘Nope,’ Mr Tucker said. He pointed to some red canisters stored at the rear of the boat. ‘I’s got a fresh supply of shaaark faaarrt. We’ll be there in no time.’
Shark fart was Mr Tucker’s favourite fuel. It made The Jolly Jellyfish go like a rocket.
‘What about medicine?’ asked Mrs Cheddar.
‘Bones packed the first-aid kit,’ Mrs Tucker told her. ‘We’ve got most things. And Nellie gave me some of her Old Hag’s Cure-All Ointment in case Herman gets his other leg bitten off by a crocodile.’
Inspector Cheddar snorted. ‘Fat lot of good that will do!’ he said.
Mrs Tucker ignored him. ‘She made us these as well.’ She pulled two big brown onesies out of a bag. ‘They’re woolly monkey suits apparently.’
‘What do you need those for?’ asked Callie.
‘I have absolutely no idea!’ Mrs Tucker said. ‘Nellie said she thought they might come in handy.’ She stuffed them back into the bag.
Atticus frowned. Woolly monkey suits? What was Nellie up to this time?
‘Right! We’d better be going!’ Mrs Tucker gave Callie and Michael a hug. ‘We’ll send you a postcard via the Embassy so it gets here quickly.’ She turned to her husband. ‘Have you got Howard Toffly’s book and all the bits of paper, Herman? I told you to put them in a safe place.’
‘Aye, they’s in me sock drawer.’
‘That doesn’t sound very safe,’ Callie objected.
‘You obviously haven’t smelt Herman’s socks,’ Mrs Tucker said with a shudder. ‘Bye, Atticus!’
Atticus gave a dejected purr. It just didn’t feel right saying goodbye. He wanted everyone to go on the adventure.
Mrs Cheddar led the way back to the quay.
‘Bye!’ Everyone waved.
Mr Tucker started the engine. ZIP! The Jolly Jellyfish shot off. Very soon it was out of sight.
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Callie as they walked back to the car. ‘Where’s Thomas?’
‘He
was here a minute ago,’ said Michael. ‘At least, I saw him when we were on the boat.’
Mrs Cheddar put her hand to her mouth. ‘He must have stowed away!’
‘I expect that was your idea.’ Inspector Cheddar rounded on Atticus. ‘You’re supposed to be setting a good example, not teaching kittens to be stowaways!’ Atticus’s ears drooped. It wasn’t his idea but he wished it had been. Why hadn’t he thought of stowing away? Now Thomas was going to have all the fun. He felt a pang of regret. Stowing away was the sort of thing he would have done when he was a cat burglar. He wouldn’t have thought twice about it then. An awful thought struck him. Maybe being a police cat had made him, well – boring.
POSTCARDS FROM THE TUCKERS
(SENT VIA THE DIPLOMATIC BAG)
Dear Callie, Michael and Atticus,
We have arrived safely in Nicaragua. Benjamin Posh-Scoundrel, the Ambassador, came to meet us at the port. He is a very big man with a very loud voice and his wife (Ribena) looks like a cross between a hippopotamus and a walrus – sorry, make that a warthog. They invited us to lunch at the Embassy to plan the expedition, which was lovely (although the place did stink of bird poo for some reason). The Ambassador offered to keep Howard Toffly’s journal and the map and so on in a safe place for us until we got to the jungle, but we said no in case the beastly Tofflys found out and tried to steal it again. Ribena had some sort of fit at that point and had to leave the table. Apparently she suffers from the heat, so she often has to lie down, although she is coming on the expedition, which seems a bit silly as it will be very hot in the jungle.
Lots of love,
Mrs Tucker
PS Guess who we found hiding in my tank tops? Yes, Thomas – the naughty rascal! Tell Nellie not to worry – he’s fine. He’s learning the ropes from Bones. Mr Tucker says he’ll make a great ship’s cat.
Dear Callie, Michael and Atticus,
We have been travelling upriver for the last two days and have finally reached the place where Howard Toffly began his journey on The Pink Dolphin. The jungle is incredibly thick. The only way to get through it is by boat. Howard Toffly was right: it is like travelling back in time a thousand years to when the ancient Maya came.
Atticus Claw Hears a Roar Page 6