The Case of Marmalade and the Glass House

Nobody in the village suspected that the old lean-to opposite the bakery was headquarters for one of the most secret organisations in the world.

To most people, it looked like a few bits of wood, a tired roof, and an old carrot box.

But some of the letters on the box had faded, leaving only:

CA T

And that, according to Mister M, could only mean one thing.

C.A.T.

Cat Action Team.

Mister M was sitting on top of the old carrot box.

Shadow and Marmalade were sitting below him.

Marmalade was washing one paw and thinking about breakfast.

Mister M looked down at them both.

“Agents,” he said, “we have a situation.”

Shadow sat up straight.

Marmalade stopped washing his paw.

“A van has been observed,” said Mister M. “It has been stopping outside houses. Boxes have been taken from the van and carried inside.”

Shadow narrowed his eyes.

Marmalade looked interested.

“Boxes?” he said.

“Several boxes,” said Mister M.

Marmalade sat up a little straighter.

“That sounds suspicious,” he said.

“It is suspicious,” said Mister M. “Shadow, you will follow the van. Observe where it goes. Report back with all important details.”

"Make sure you are not seen."

Shadow gave a serious nod.

“I shall not be seen,” he said.

Mister M said nothing.

Shadow slipped out of headquarters and began his surveillance.

The van was easy to find. It was parked outside a house with its back doors open.

A man took a box from the van and carried it to the front door.

Shadow watched from behind a flowerpot.

A woman looked out of an upstairs window.

“Why is that black cat watching that van?” she said.

Shadow remained very still.

The van moved on.

Shadow followed.

At the next house, the driver carried another box inside.

Shadow watched from behind a low wall.

A man watering his plants looked down the path.

“Why is that black cat following that van?” he said.

Shadow flattened himself against the wall.

The van moved on again.

Shadow followed.

At the third house, the driver took out another box.

Shadow watched from beneath a parked car.

A small child pointed.

“Why is that black cat following that van?” said the child.

Shadow stayed perfectly still until the van drove away.

Then he returned to headquarters.

“The van was observed,” he reported. “It stopped at three houses. Boxes were taken inside.”

Mister M looked serious.

“And were you spotted?”

Shadow lifted his chin.

“I’m pretty certain I wasn’t spotted.”

Mister M considered this.

“This is no longer simple surveillance,” he said. “We need evidence.”

Marmalade’s ears pricked up.

“Evidence?” he said.

“Yes,” said Mister M. “The next box must be inspected.”

Marmalade stood up at once.

“I volunteer,” he said.

“I thought you might,” said Mister M.

The van was soon found again. This time Shadow and Marmalade followed it together.

Shadow stayed close to the walls.

Marmalade stayed close to Shadow.

The van stopped outside a quiet house with a glass conservatory at the side.

The owners were out for the day. They were expecting a parcel, and they had left a note for the driver.

The driver read the note.

Then he opened the conservatory door and carried the parcel inside.

Marmalade watched carefully.

The driver put the parcel behind the fridge, exactly where he had been told to leave it.

Marmalade saw his chance.

He slipped quietly through the open door and took up a position behind a wicker chair.

The driver did not see him.

The driver came out.

He closed the conservatory door.

The van drove away.

Marmalade waited.

Then he stepped out from behind the chair and walked over to the parcel.

Shadow stared through the glass.

Marmalade sniffed the box.

He looked at the door.

He looked at the windows.

Then he looked back at Shadow.

Shadow looked at Marmalade.

Marmalade placed one paw on the glass.

Shadow understood immediately.

Marmalade was inside.

The parcel was inside.

The door was closed.

This was serious.

Not as serious as being swallowed by a thing with teeth.

But still serious.

Shadow turned and headed back to headquarters.

He kept close to the walls.

He crossed behind flowerpots.

He paused beside a gatepost until the pavement was clear.

“There’s that black cat again,” said someone from a garden.

Shadow continued.

He was fairly certain he had not been spotted.

At headquarters, Mister M was still on top of the box.

“Marmalade has entered the glass house,” said Shadow.

Mister M looked down sharply.

“The glass house?”

“The driver placed the box inside,” said Shadow. “Marmalade entered to inspect it. The door closed behind him.”

“Trapped?” said Mister M.

“Temporarily contained,” said Shadow. “He appears to be inspecting evidence.”

Mister M jumped down from the box.

“Take me to him.”

Shadow led the way back through the village.

This time Mister M came with him.

They reached the house and crept round to the glass house.

Marmalade was still inside.

He was sitting beside the parcel.

He did not look frightened.

He looked busy.

Mister M inspected the door.

Shadow inspected the lower windows.

Marmalade inspected the parcel.

Mister M pushed the door with one paw.

It did not open.

Shadow tapped the glass.

Marmalade looked up.

“Try the handle,” said Mister M.

Marmalade looked at the handle.

He reached up with one paw.

Nothing happened.

He reached up with both paws.

Nothing happened.

He sat down again.

Mister M walked around the glass house twice.

Shadow checked behind a plant pot.

Marmalade sniffed the parcel again.

After a while, Shadow looked through the glass.

The afternoon passed.

Mister M and Shadow stayed outside.

They did not sit too close to the house. They were street cats, and street cats were careful.

But they did not leave.

Marmalade was still inside.

At last, the owners came home.

They walked up the path and stopped.

There were two cats outside the conservatory.

One was a silver tabby, sitting very upright.

The other was a black cat, trying to look invisible beside a plant pot.

“Why are those two cats sitting there?” said the woman.

Mister M and Shadow both stepped back.

Not too far.

Just far enough.

The man looked at them.

Then he looked where they were looking.

“Oh,” he said. “There’s a ginger cat in the conservatory.”

The woman hurried over and saw Marmalade.

She opened the conservatory door carefully.

Then she stepped back.

Marmalade came out with great dignity.

He paused beside Mister M and Shadow.

Then he sat down and washed one paw.

The woman smiled.

“Poor thing,” she said. “He must have slipped in when the parcel was delivered.”

The man went inside and came back with a small dish of food.

He put it down outside.

Then he and the woman moved away.

They were kind people.

They were also sensible people.

They knew that street cats could be unpredictable.

They did not know it, but these particular street cats were also secret agents.

Marmalade approached the food first.

He sniffed it carefully.

“Evidence,” he said.

Mister M and Shadow joined him.

The evidence was shared.

When the dish was empty, the three agents returned to headquarters.

Mister M climbed back onto the old carrot box.

Shadow sat below him.

Marmalade sat beside Shadow and looked very satisfied.

“The parcel contained no food,” said Marmalade.

“Then why did you stay with it?” asked Shadow.

“I couldn’t get out,” said Marmalade.

Shadow looked at him.

“You hid behind a chair,” he said.

“I took up a concealed observation position,” said Marmalade. “There is a difference.”

Mister M gave a solemn nod.

“The case is closed,” he said.

To anyone passing by, they looked like three ordinary street cats.

Which, of course, was exactly what they wanted people to think.

Case file closed. please leave any relevant comments and likes in the Guestbook here. Thanks