The Case of the Missing Cats (3 page)

‘Is that Mr Dilly?' asked Holly.

‘Yes, look your cat . . .'

‘Willow. Have you found her? Is she all right?'

‘Well, no . . .'

‘Is she hurt?'

‘No . . .'

‘So she's all right?'

‘Look, if you'll let me explain,' yelled Dirk down the receiver, fed up of being interrupted.

Holly fell silent and Dirk realised that he had made the phone call without the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He could hardly tell her what had really happened:
Look, kiddo, your cat has been stolen by a dragon and taken to a warehouse in East London
. No, that wouldn't do at all.

‘I . . . It's just that . . .' he started, ‘it's going to take longer than I thought to find your cat.'

‘Why?'

‘Because . . . Because it just is. Look, I'll call when I've got news, but don't expect that to be too soon.'

‘What's happened to her?' demanded Holly.

‘I don't know. I honestly don't know.'

Dirk slammed down the phone. He turned to face the window, swivelled the blinds so that he could see the evening sky and contemplated the case. The cats, the dragons. The dragons, the cats. What was the link? What was the connection? There had to be a
connection. Cats and dragons. Dragons and cats. After several hours of this sort of thinking and eight glasses of orange squash drunk neat, Dirk drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

He was halfway through a dream involving an army of flying cats carpet-bombing London with exploding fur balls when he was woken by a terrible banging.

‘Take cover!' He awoke with a start. ‘Who? What? Where?' he exclaimed.

‘Mr Dilly?' It was Mrs Klingerflim. ‘Mr Dilly,' she called, banging noisily on the door.

‘It's open,' replied Dirk, rubbing his eyes, and squinting in the early morning sunlight. He must have slept all night.

The door edged open and Mrs Klingerflim's owl-like face appeared around it. ‘Sorry to disturb you, but your niece is here.'

‘What?'

‘Come along, dear,' she said, pushing the door open.

‘No,' yelled Dirk. ‘She can't come in.'

‘What's that?' said the old lady.

Dirk leapt off the seat and dived under the desk,
squeezing his large body into the small space.

‘Thank you, Mrs Klingerflim,' replied a girl's voice. ‘What a polite girl,' said Mrs Klingerflim. ‘What did you say your name was?'

‘Holly,' said the girl.

Through a hole in the desk Dirk saw a pair of green trainers and green socks enter the room. ‘Uncle Dirk? Where are you?' called the girl.

Dirk said nothing, frozen.

‘Well,' said Mrs Klingerflim. ‘I'll leave you two to catch up. Don't forget your rent is due next week, Mr Dilly.' The door closed.

Dirk thought fast. What were his options? There was no way to escape without being seen. People tend to notice when a four-metre-long (from tail to nose) red-backed, green-bellied, urban-based Mountain Dragon crawls out from under a desk and leaves the room. He would have to stay hidden and bluff his way out of this.

‘What a dump,' said Holly. ‘What are you doing under the desk?'

‘I dropped my pen,' said Dirk.

‘Has there been a fire?'

‘Yes, just a little one. I dropped a cigarette.'

‘You shouldn't smoke. It's very bad for you.'

‘I know, I'm trying to give up,' he replied frostily.

‘Dad's big-haired wife smokes sometimes,' said the girl. ‘She doesn't think anyone knows but I've checked in her handbag and she's always got a packet. I always take them out and throw them away, but she never says anything because that would be like admitting it and it would involve talking to me. Dad doesn't notice that she smells of smoke, but then he doesn't really notice anything at all. They think I'm at school today.'

‘Shouldn't you be at school?' snapped Dirk.

‘This is far more important. I want to know what's happened to my cat, Willow.'

‘How did you find me? My address isn't in the phone book.' Dirk felt pins and needles crawl through his tail from being so cramped in the small space.

‘You'd be amazed how much information you can get from the Internet. Have you found your pen yet?'

‘There seem to be quite a lot down here. I may be some time. You might as well go away and I'll call you later.'

‘Are you sure you're not hiding?'

‘Of course not. Why do you say that?'

‘I've just never known anyone to spend so much
time under a desk. It's a bit odd.'

‘What do you want?' Dirk asked.

‘I want to know what's happened to my cat?'

‘It's difficult to explain. Look, kiddo, you have to leave.'

‘I'll leave when you come out from under that desk.'

‘I can't.'

‘Why?'

‘I just can't.'

‘Then I'm not leaving.'

‘Look, you're trespassing. You lied about who you were and illicitly gained access to my office. Get out!' demanded Dirk.

‘You call this tip an office?'

Dirk was seriously annoyed. It was one thing to come barging in, uninvited. It was another to impersonate a family member. But he wasn't going to stand for – or in this case, hide under a desk for – a complete stranger calling his office a tip. Sure, it needed a bit of a tidy up. And perhaps he hadn't taken out the rubbish for a couple of days, or possibly weeks. But this was his home.

Angrily Dirk said, ‘I'll call your parents and tell them you're not at school.'

‘Go on, then,' challenged Holly. ‘The phone's on the desk.'

Dirk growled quietly to himself. ‘If you don't go away I won't tell you what happened to your cat,' he said.

After a moment's silence Holly sighed and said, ‘All right, I'll go. But I want to know what's going on. Call me.'

‘It's a deal,' said Dirk and he watched the green shoes disappear out of sight and heard the door close. She had gone. Breathing a sigh of relief he edged his way backwards and climbed up from under the desk. He stretched himself out and cricked his back. ‘Oh, that's better,' he muttered to himself, rubbing his numb tail.

‘You're a dragon,' said a small, surprised voice.

Dirk looked down and saw a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl standing by the door, staring up at him.

‘Rats,' he said, ‘Big baskets of fat rats called Albert!'

At least she's not screaming
, thought Dirk. Instead of screaming, Holly was standing frozen to the spot, eyes as wide as golf balls, mouth as wide as a football, looking as though she had just seen the exact last thing she expected to see at that exact moment in time. Her brown hair hung in a neat bob. Dressed in a red T-shirt, orange jeans and green socks and trainers, she put Dirk in mind of a set of traffic lights.

‘What are you staring at?' he demanded.

‘I mean, I just thought it was a cool name, the Dragon Detective Agency. I thought maybe you'd be Welsh or something. You know, they have a dragon on their flag, but I noticed you didn't have a Welsh
accent, but I thought maybe . . . I just thought it was a cool name. I never thought you actually were a dragon,' said Holly.

‘No kidding. That's kind of the idea, kiddo. Why aren't you screaming?'

‘I considered it for a moment but decided that it wouldn't help,' she replied simply.

‘I think if I were in your position a scream wouldn't be out of place. Maybe a yelp. Even a whimper.'

Holly ignored this and said, ‘It's just brilliant. A dragon. Can you fly?'

‘Of course I can fly. What do you think these are for?' he snarled, flapping his wings, ‘Air conditioning?'

‘And breathe fire?'

Dirk picked up the top page of a newspaper from his desk and, showing off, rolled it up, pursed his lips and exhaled. A tiny line of fire darted out and set it alight.

‘Wow!' exclaimed Holly. ‘Cool.'

In an instance the paper burnt down to his paw. ‘Ow!' yelled Dirk, placing his finger in his mouth. The lit piece of paper floated down to the desk, where it landed on the rest of the newspaper, setting
the whole thing alight.

‘Rats,' he said, trying to put out the fire with his paw. ‘Ow!' he said, whipping it away again. The fire meanwhile was growing and blackening the desk. ‘I'll blow it out,' said Dirk and he drew a deep breath and blew.

‘No!' shouted Holly, but it was too late. Another line of fire came from his mouth, just making matters worse.

Dirk growled in frustration. ‘Stand back,' he said. He shut his eyes and threw himself over the fire. With a crash the desk collapsed beneath his weight. The fire, however, was finally out.

‘Super rats from Mars,' said Dirk, looking up to see Holly clutching her sides, bent over, laughing.

‘You're funny,' she said.

‘Oh, I'm glad I amuse you, kiddo,' said Dirk coldly. ‘That's really what I was aiming for. Just think of me as part uncle, part dragon, part clown. Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do.'

‘To find Willow?'

‘Your cat isn't my only case,' lied Dirk.

‘But what about Willow?'

‘Listen. In the grand scheme of things one missing cat doesn't add up to a hill of beans. It's not exactly
the crown jewels, is it?'

‘She's more important to me.'

‘My heart is bleeding.'

‘But you must know something otherwise you wouldn't have phoned to say it was going to take longer than you thought.'

‘You don't let up, do you?'

‘Anyway, what's a dragon doing working as a detective?'

‘I'm so sorry you don't approve of my career choice. I suppose you think I should have got a nice job in a bank.'

‘Don't be silly.'

‘Don't call me silly.' If there was one thing Dirk hated more than being laughed at, it was being called silly. This girl was really annoying him. ‘You have to go now. You shouldn't have seen me, but I'll let you get away with it because you're only a kid. Who's going to believe you?'

‘No way. I'm helping you find Willow.'

‘What do you know about being a detective?'

‘I found you, didn't I?'

This was true. Dirk didn't exactly make it easy for clients to find where he was located. ‘You're only eleven. You're too young.'

‘Just because I'm young, I'm still smart.'

‘And modest.'

‘Why? How old are you?' she replied.

‘One thousand, two hundred and sixty-seven next July.'

‘Wow, that's really old.'

‘Watch it. That's quite young for a dragon and I think I'm in pretty good shape for my age, actually. I like to keep myself trim,' said Dirk, holding his stomach in.

‘I could be your sidekick like Dr Watson and Sherlock Holmes.'

‘I live alone and I work alone.' Dirk sat behind his broken desk. ‘That's the way it's always been and that's the way I like it.'

‘Don't you have any friends?' said Holly, pulling up a chair and sitting down opposite him.

‘Dragons aren't that big on friends.'

‘What about your family?'

‘Let's not get too personal now.'

‘Well, I think it sounds very lonely.'

‘What about you?' said Dirk, turning on Holly. ‘Your dad didn't seem to have even heard of you.'

‘He's very busy,' she replied defensively. ‘He's a junior minister now.'

‘And you've got lots of friends, have you?'

‘I've got Willow,' she replied. ‘She's my best friend.'

Dirk snorted. ‘She's a cat,' he said dismissively.

‘She's still my friend. I like animals. They're more reliable than people.'

‘Don't children normally have friends at school?'

‘I change schools a lot, so I never make any new friends and if I do I just leave again and then they're lost, so I don't bother any more.'

‘That sounds very lonely,' Dirk said pointedly, but instantly regretted it as Holly's brown eyes welled up with tears. If there was one thing he really couldn't deal with it was a blubbing human. ‘Come on,' he said awkwardly. ‘It's all right. Don't cry.'

‘Will you let me help you find Willow?' Holly's voice wavered.

‘I can't . . .'

Holly's head fell into her hands, her shoulders began to shake and the loud piercing wail started. It was a horrible sound.

‘Anything the matter?' called Mrs Klingerflim's voice from the hallway.

‘No nothing, Mrs K,' replied Dirk. ‘Look, shut up. All right. Stop. You can come along,' he said without thinking.

‘On . . . the . . . investigation?' Holly managed to utter in between sobs.

‘All right, but only today.'

‘What . . . are . . . you doing today?' she said tearfully.