The Case Of The Vanishing Biscuits

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 sat on top of the old carrot box opposite the bakery.

Shadow and Marmalade waited below.

“Agents, we have a situation.”

Shadow looked interested.

Marmalade looked hopeful.

“Biscuits,” said Mister M.

Marmalade immediately looked much more interested.

“For the last three nights, bowls of biscuits left out for us, the street cats, have been disappearing.”

“Perhaps the cats ate them,” said Shadow.

“That was my first thought,” said Mister M. “But there are reports from all over town. Too many biscuits are disappearing, and too quickly.”

Marmalade frowned.

“How many biscuits?”

“A considerable number.”

“Do we know what sort?”

Mister M stared at him.

“For investigative purposes,” Marmalade added quickly.

Mister M produced a small map.

“People leave food at the bakery, beside the old fountain, near the market, behind the hotel and in several side streets. By morning, almost everything has gone.”

Shadow studied the map.

“I’ll check the hotel.”

“Good,” said Mister M. “And make sure you’re not spotted.”

Shadow slipped across the road heading for the hotel.

A woman leaving the bakery stopped.

“Oh, look at that lovely black cat.”

Shadow froze for a moment, then continued walking as though nothing had happened.

Marmalade watched him go.

“That went well.”

That evening, Shadow hid behind a flowerpot near one of the feeding bowls.

Marmalade watched another bowl beside the market.

Nothing happened.

Then nothing continued to happen.

Marmalade looked at the biscuits.

He sniffed one.

Then another.

By midnight, both agents were back at headquarters.

“I’m pretty certain I wasn’t spotted,” said Shadow.

Mister M said nothing.

“And the biscuits?” he asked.

“Still disappearing,” said Shadow. “But I didn’t see who took them.”

“Same at the market,” said Marmalade.

Mister M looked at him.

“There seemed to be slightly fewer when I left,” Marmalade admitted. “Some evidence required testing.”

Mister M studied the map again.

Five locations.

Then seven.

Then another report arrived from the far side of town.

“This is too widespread,” he said. “We cannot watch every feeding point ourselves.”

Shadow looked up.

“What do we do?”

Mister M was silent for a moment.

Then he climbed to the very top of the carrot box.

“We need more paws on the ground.”

Marmalade swallowed.

“You don’t mean…”

“I do.”

Mister M looked from one agent to the other.

“I’m calling in the F.B.I.”

Marmalade’s eyes widened.

“The Feline Biscuit Inspectorate,” he whispered.

The following morning, Shadow and Marmalade were waiting at headquarters when two black-and-white cats appeared from around the corner.

They were almost identical.

Both wore dark glasses.

One was slightly larger, with a broad, square head.

The other had a narrower face and a more pointed muzzle.

Mister M stood on top of the carrot box.

“Agents, meet Agent Mewdler and Agent Skatty of the Feline Biscuit Inspectorate.”

Marmalade stared at them.

“The F.B.I.”

Agent Mewdler gave a small nod.

Agent Skatty gave a small nod.

“We understand you have a biscuit problem,” said Mewdler.

“A serious biscuit problem,” added Skatty.

Marmalade nodded gravely.

“At last,” he said, “someone who understands.”

Mister M unfolded the map.

“The disappearances are happening all over town. We need to watch as many feeding points as possible.”

He pointed with one paw.

“Shadow, you take the hotel again.”

Shadow nodded.

“Make sure you’re not spotted.”

“I wasn’t spotted last time.”

Marmalade coughed.

Mister M continued.

“Marmalade, the market.”

Marmalade looked pleased.

“Agent Mewdler, the fountain. Agent Skatty, the bakery.”

The four agents set off.

That evening, the townspeople placed bowls of biscuits in their usual positions.

Shadow settled behind the flowerpot at the hotel.

Marmalade crouched beside a stack of empty crates at the market.

Mewdler disappeared beneath a bench near the fountain.

Skatty took up position beneath a table outside the bakery.

Then they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

At the market, Marmalade stared at the bowl.

He leaned forward.

Then stopped himself.

“Evidence,” he whispered.

A sudden flutter of wings made him look up.

A bird landed beside the bowl.

It pecked at a biscuit, picked it up and flew away.

Marmalade blinked.

Another bird landed.

Then another.

Across town, Shadow heard wings above the hotel courtyard.

Two birds dropped beside the feeding bowl, grabbed biscuits and disappeared over the rooftops.

At the fountain, Agent Mewdler watched three more birds arrive.

At the bakery, Agent Skatty saw an entire little group descend together.

By midnight, the agents were back at headquarters.
Mister M looked around.
“Reports?”
Shadow spoke first.
“Birds.”
Marmalade nodded.
“Birds.”
Mewdler removed his dark glasses.
“Birds.”
Skatty removed her dark glasses.
“Lots of birds.”
Mister M looked at the map.
“So that explains where the biscuits are going.”
“Not quite,” said Mewdler.
Mister M looked up.
“What do you mean?”
“At the fountain I saw three different kinds of bird.”
“So did I,” said Skatty.
Shadow nodded.
“And none of them stayed for long.”
Mister M looked thoughtful.
Marmalade looked at the others.
“So why are all these birds suddenly stealing our biscuits?”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Agent Mewdler put his dark glasses back on.
Then Agent Skatty put her dark glasses back on.
“There’s only one way to find out,” said Agent Mewdler.”
Mister M nodded.
“Tomorrow night, we interrogate one.”

The following evening, the agents returned to the market area.

This time, they were ready.

At the market, Marmalade crouched beside the feeding bowl.

Agent Mewdler waited behind a crate.

Agent Skatty sat just out of sight.

Shadow watched from the other side of the square.

For a while, nothing happened.

Then came the sound of wings.

A small bird dropped beside the bowl.

It picked up a biscuit.

“Now,” said Agent Mewdler.

The four cats stepped out.

The bird froze.

Agent Mewdler walked forward.

“We would like to ask you a few questions.”

The bird looked at the four cats surrounding it.

“Do I have a choice?”

Agent Skatty adjusted her dark glasses.

“Not really.”

Marmalade looked impressed.

Agent Mewdler sat down.

“Biscuits have been disappearing from feeding bowls all over town.”

The bird nodded.

“Yes.”

“You know something about that?”

“Yes.”

Agent Mewdler leaned slightly closer.

“Go on.”

The bird put the biscuit down.

“We’re travelling.”

“Travelling where?” asked Shadow.

“South.”

The bird looked towards the darkening sky.

“There are thousands of us passing through. Some stay for a few hours. Some stay overnight. Then we move on.”

Agent Skatty looked at Mewdler.

“Migration.”

The bird nodded.

“It’s a long journey. We stop wherever we can find food.”

Marmalade looked at the biscuit.

“So you’re not planning to stay?”

“Oh no,” said the bird. “Tomorrow we’ll be miles away.”

“And the other birds?” asked Mister M, who had arrived quietly behind them.

“Same thing. Different flocks. Different routes. We’re all just passing through.”

Mister M looked thoughtful.

“How long will this continue?”

“A few more days, perhaps.”

The bird picked up its biscuit again.

“Then you’ll hardly see us.”

There was a long silence.

Agent Mewdler looked at Agent Skatty.

Agent Skatty looked at Mister M.

Mister M looked at the bird.

“So there is no biscuit thief.”

The bird shook its head.

“Just hungry travellers.”

Marmalade nodded slowly.

“I understand.”

Everyone looked at him.

“What?”

The next morning, Mister M called the agents together at headquarters.

“The case is solved,” he said.

“So what do we do?”

“Nothing,” said Mister M.

Marmalade blinked.

“Nothing?”

“The birds need food for their journey. They are not staying. In a few days, they will have moved on and the biscuits will stop disappearing.”

Agent Mewdler nodded.

“A temporary situation.”

Agent Skatty nodded.

“No further action required.”

Mister M looked at the two F.B.I. agents.

“Thank you for your assistance.”

Agent Mewdler gave a small nod.

Agent Skatty gave a small nod.

Then the two black-and-white cats turned and walked away together.

Marmalade watched them disappear around the corner.

“Very professional.”

Shadow nodded.

“Very.”

Marmalade looked towards the bakery.

“So, now that the case is closed…”

Mister M narrowed his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Would there happen to be any evidence left over?”

Mister M sighed.

Across the town, another flock of birds rose into the sky and continued south.

And, just as the bird had promised, within a few days the feeding bowls once again held enough biscuits for the street cats.

Mister M, sitting on his box, looked at his agents.

“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.