Catnapped! Read online

  “I’ll tell you exactly what,” he snarled. “Because I’ve just received word from Vainclaw. We have a new assignment.”

  “No more cats?” Flotsam asked hopefully.

  “Yeah, spill the beans. What’s the job?” asked Jegsy.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” said Leon.

  “Oh yeah?” said his brother. “Why didn’t he tell the rest of us?”

  “Because Vainclaw trusts me,” Leon said pointedly.

  “Bully for you,” Mali sulked.

  “Forget your usual routes around the city. Today, you’re all to follow me.”

  “Where are we going?” asked Flotsam.

  “It’s time for stage two,” replied Leon.

  “I don’t believe you,” said Mali. “The big V-man ain’t told you nothing.”

  “Yes, he has,” said Leon impatiently.

  “Has not.”

  “Has so.”

  “Cut it out,” said Flotsam. “I think we should just … ah … ah … ah…”

  The other three dragons cowered in anticipation.

  “Ah … ah…” After a moment’s pause, Flotsam sniffed and said, “Actually, I think I’m alright.”

  He wiped his nose and the other dragons raised their heads, looking relieved.

  “CHOOOOOOO!” he screamed, fire bursting from his mouth.

  “I could give you something for that,” said Jegsy, diving once again into the crate. “Take one of these every hour until the sneezing stops,” he said, passing Flotsam a selection of tennis balls.

  “Thanks,” said the Sea Dragon, putting one into his mouth and biting down. “It’s a bit chewy,” he said.

  “Maybe it should be dissolved in water first,” replied Jegsy.

  “Can you stop messing around?” barked Leon. “Come on, everyone follow me.”

  Dirk kept very still.

  The large yellow-backed Scavenger flew up to the skylight.

  Dirk held his breath.

  The dragon slid the window open, slipped through the hole and disappeared on to the roof. The other three dragons followed. As the last one slid the skylight shut, Dirk heard Leon say, “Remember, no robbing, no arguing and no sneezing.”

  Once he was sure that they had gone Dirk flew to the skylight, his skin returning to its true colour. He could see the four dragons leaping from roof to roof in the distance, the large Scavenger leading the way. He was about to give chase when he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a light-blue, round-topped car, parked by the side of the warehouse. Inside the car, Dirk could see Mrs Klingerflim sitting, smiling vaguely and tapping her hands on the steering wheel. Holly, he thought. Why isn’t Holly with her?

  Checking no one was around, he jumped down to the street below and approached the car, where Mrs Klingerflim was listening to some old crackly music on the radio. It sounded like an awful noise to Dirk but she seemed to be enjoying it.

  “Mrs Klingerflim,” he said.

  “Is that you, Mr Dilly?” she said, turning to look at him. “You made me jump. What are you doing here?”

  “Where’s Holly?”

  “I don’t know, dear,” replied the old lady. “She said she would only be a minute.”

  “Rats!” Dirk looked around. The once-white van was gone. He flew back to the roof but still couldn’t see any sign of it. He needed height and he needed it now. Three roofs away was a large industrial chimney. Dirk ran across the warehouse roof and dived to the next. He landed into a forward roll and then sprang up, spread his wings and flew to the top of the chimney. Carefully balancing on the rim he looked down at the surrounding streets. There was still no sign of the van. But then he saw another car he recognized. It was the grey Mercedes with the white stripe that had been parked outside his flat, the one driven by the man in the wide-brimmed hat. It was driving full pelt away, jumping every red light it went through, heading eastwards.

  Dirk spread his wings and leaped from the chimney, following the car as the sun set behind him.

  The car took the same route out of the city that the two crooks had taken in the van. It parked in front of the church, across the road from the shady path that led to the riverside. Dirk landed on the church roof. The man in the wide-brimmed hat got out and hurried across the road. He walked briskly down the path, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, his head bowed. He was alone.

  Cursing himself for not having his disguise with him, Dirk swooped down to the car. There was no sign of Holly in the front seat or the back. Ears pricked up, listening for anyone approaching, Dirk moved to the boot of the car. He lowered his head and said, “Holly, are you in there?”

  Nothing.

  He opened his mouth and clamped his teeth into the top of the boot, being careful not to bite straight through the metal. The last thing he wanted was to skewer the girl on one of his teeth. Satisfied with his grip he raised his head slowly. It made an awful sound, of teeth against steel. There goes my enamel, thought Dirk. He lifted the boot wide open, braced himself and looked down. She wasn’t there.

  “Rancid rats called Rodney,” Dirk swore. He jumped back to the safety of the church roof just as a solitary furniture removal van rumbled past. It was late and, with only a few yellow street lamps to combat the darkness, Dirk could barely make out the man in the wide-brimmed hat. In a matter of seconds he would disappear from sight altogether, into the shadows.

  The road was clear. Dirk spread his wings, stood on tiptoe on the edge of the church, his front paws stretched out like an Olympic diver, made a tiny jump and glided across the road, down the path, gathering speed as he flew.

  Dirk cut silently through the air towards the man.

  He knew he had one chance to get this right.

  Centimetres away from the man’s back, Dirk swung his feet down, clamped the man’s shoulder with his right forearm and thrust his index claw into the small of his back, as though it were a weapon.

  The man froze, then raised his arms. “I’m not armed,” he said.

  “Don’t turn around,” Dirk whispered in his ear. “Just start talking.”

  “What do you want to talk about?” replied the man casually.

  “Your favourite brand of baked beans,” said Dirk. “What do you think?”

  “I prefer spaghetti hoops and you’re going to have to be more specific,” he retorted.

  He was talking coolly. Dirk could tell that this wasn’t the first time that the man had been in this situation. It was, however, probably the first time that it was a red-backed, green-bellied, urban-based Mountain Dragon standing behind him.

  “OK. Let’s start with your name,” said Dirk.

  “Blake,” said the man. “Ladbroke Blake.”

  “Ladbroke Blake,” he said. “The sort of name you might find on a gravestone.”

  “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

  “Just answer my questions, buddy. It’s been a long day.”

  “Give me a question I can answer then, buddy,” replied Ladbroke.

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Except that I’m the one with the weapon.” Dirk pushed his claw further into the man’s back.

  “All right, take it easy. I haven’t touched her. I was just hired to follow her. OK?”

  “Who hired you?” asked Dirk.

  “There is such a thing as client confidentiality,” said Ladbroke.

  “Honour among thieves, eh?” smirked the dragon.

  “I’m not a thief. I’m a private detective. My card is in my top pocket.”

  “You and me both,” said Dirk. “Now, carefully, without making any sudden movements and using your left hand, pull it out and show it to me.”

  Ladbroke pulled out a business card and held it up.

  “Alfonzo Firenze,” Dirk read aloud. “Director, producer, writer and genius.”

  “Oh, sorry,” said Ladbroke. “Wrong card. Try this one.”

  He pulled out another. It rea
d:

  “Now tell me who hired you or I’ll be asking you to investigate the bottom of the Thames.”

  “That’s another threat, isn’t it?”

  “Who?” demanded Dirk, tightening his grip on the man’s shoulder.

  “The Right Honourable Angela Bigsby MP, Holly’s mother.”

  “Stepmother,” replied Dirk.

  “Well, it’s a good job she did hire me. She’s concerned that her daughter—”

  “Stepdaughter,” interrupted Dirk.

  “She’s worried about her,” said Ladbroke. “And she’s right to be worried. This isn’t your average truant case. It seems that young Holly has got herself wound up in some serious trouble.”

  “What do you know?” asked Dirk anxiously.

  “I know that she’s been hanging around with some crazy, blind old lady who drives like a lunatic. I know that the old lady gave her a lift to a warehouse in East London this evening, where Holly was forced into the back of a dirty van – number plate K884 UTA – by two low-life thugs and that they drove her here and that right now she’s about fifty metres in that direction.” Ladbroke pointed behind him. Dirk could tell he wasn’y lying. “Now will you let me go?”

  “No problem,” said Dirk. He released the detective from his grip but, before he could turn around, whacked him over his head. Ladbroke Blake fell to the ground in a slump. Dirk checked his pulse. He was fine, just unconscious. He dragged the body under a hedge and continued carefully down the path Ladbroke had pointed out, wondering what sort of person hires a private detective because her stepdaughter is bunking off school.

  His thoughts were interrupted by approaching voices. Dirk dived behind a tree.

  “Hey, Arthur, what was that?” said the first voice.

  “Don’t be so paranoid, Reg. It was probably just a fox,” said the second.

  “This job just gets worse and worse. First cats, then little girls. Now, foxes! It’s not right. It’s not normal.”

  “Imagine, Reg, that you are in a room. Can you imagine that?”

  “What sort of room?” asked Reg.

  The two crooks passed where Dirk was hiding.

  “A very boring room, Reg, one with just a chair in it and a picture of some flowers in a vase. Imagine you are in a boring room like that and then you leave.”

  “Because it’s so boring?”

  “Yes, Reg. The question is, once you have left, how do you know the room still exists?”

  “Because I’ve just been there.”

  The voices grew fainter as the men got further away.

  “But you are no longer there. You have left. How do you know it still exists?

  “I don’t think I follow you,” said Reg.

  “Forget the girl. She no longer exists. Think about the money,” replied Arthur.

  With the two men gone, Dirk continued down the path, which opened on to the clearing by the river where he saw the once-white van parked. He took three steps towards it, then stopped. His ears pricked up. He could hear the whirring of approaching dragon wings. He dived for cover just as the four Kinghorn dragons landed by the side of the van.

  Heads lowered, they prowled silently towards the vehicle, glancing from side to side as they moved. The Mountain Dragon and the Sea Dragon stopped on either side of the van. The small Scavenger hopped on top. The large one, Leon, walked to the back, raised himself up on his hind legs, grabbed the handles and pulled the door open. The sound of a young girl screaming filled the air.

  Holly, thought Dirk.

  “All right, calm down,” he heard the large Scavenger say, jumping into the van. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The Sea and the Mountain Dragons sniggered, rounded the van and, using their tails, slammed the doors shut.

  The screaming stopped. Dirk watched the three dragons guarding the van. He had to help Holly but even he couldn’t take on all three of them. Not all at once, anyway. As quietly as possible he backed away into the undergrowth, then headed down the path.

  In the back of the van, the dragon’s large, ugly face loomed close to Holly’s. A droplet of spittle fell from one of his long, sharp teeth on to her jeans. He sniffed Holly’s hair and brought his enormous yellow eyes to peer at her face. Dirk had been right – his breath stank. Holly tried to move her head away as much as she could but the two crooks had tied the ropes too tightly. The dragon inspected her closely.

  “Scared, are you?” he asked.

  “I’m not scared of you,” she replied defiantly.

  “We’ll see how brave you are in a minute.”

  “Carry on, if it makes you feel big to pick on kids and defenceless cats.”

  “What do you know about the cats?” snapped the dragon.

  “I know you’ve been stealing them. I know about the Kinghorns. And I know about Vainclaw Grandin.”

  For a moment, Holly thought she saw fear in the dragon’s yellow eyes but then he pushed his face up to hers. He had skin as rough as sandpaper. His breath smelled like he had been gargling bin juice.

  “Where did you hear that name?” he demanded.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked.

  “This is war. How do you know about…” the dragon lowered his voice to a whisper, “Vainclaw?”

  “But we’re not at war. Anyway, what does it matter what I know? You’re going to kill me anyway, aren’t you?”

  “True. And not just you. Soon your whole pathetic race will be extinct.”

  “But why?” she asked.

  “Because we hate you, all of you. Humans have always been terrified of the big, scaly creature lurking beneath the surface, waiting to rear its ugly head and feast on the fair maiden, always relying on the knight in shining armour to turn up at the last minute to kill the creature, save the maiden and take all the glory. Well, have you ever thought about this? Maybe the maiden never needed saving. Maybe the creature doesn’t need killing. Maybe it’s the knight that’s the problem.”

  Outside the van the Sea Dragon, Flotsam, was getting jittery. “What was that noise?” he said, glancing fearfully at the trees.

  “What noise?” asked Jegsy. “I didn’t hear no noise.”

  “Over there. I heard something.”

  “What are you two talking about?” spat Mali, circling on top of the van.

  “Flotsam’s hearing noises,” said Jegsy.

  “Go and check it out then,” said Mali.

  “On my own? What if it’s a … a human?” stammered Flotsam, looking scared.

  “Flotsam, you idiot! You’re a dragon,” said Mali. “You have razor-sharp talons, teeth that could snap a man in half, an armour-plated back and you can breathe fire. What are you scared of?”

  “But it’s still breaching the forbidden divide,” Flotsam shuddered. “We’re not supposed to be seen.”

  “You fool,” spat Mali. “What’s it matter if anyone sees you at this stage?”

  “That’s true,” said Jegsy. “It don’t matter.”

  “Still, can’t one of you come with me?” pleaded Flotsam.

  “I’ll come,” sighed Jegsy.

  “Go on then, hurry up,” said Mali. “Remember the plan.”

  The two dragons walked into the overgrown wooded area cautiously. With each step it got darker and they grew closer together, until they were walking shoulder to shoulder.

  “Someone’s there,” whispered Flotsam.

  Jegsy looked. Sure enough he could make out what appeared to be a man, wearing a long raincoat and a wide-brimmed hat.

  “Come on,” said Jegsy.

  “What if he’s armed?” asked Flotsam.

  “I’ll go round the back,” said Jegsy. “We’ll do the old surround-and-pounce plan.”

  “What’s the old surround-and-pounce plan?” asked Flotsam.

  “Well, we surround him, then we pounce on him.”

  “Oh yeah,” said Flotsam.

  Jegsy disappeared into the darkness, leaving him to creep slowly towards the unmoving shadowy
figure, stepping as lightly as possible. Once he was near enough he crouched down. Meanwhile, Jegsy moved into position on the other side of the man. Then, in one sudden movement, they both leaped forwards, landing on top of him. But instead of feeling a solid body crumbling beneath them, they heard a stick snap and both fell heavily to the ground. They looked at each other in confusion.

  “There’s no one here,” said Jegsy.

  “Why would someone leave their clothes here?” replied Flotsam.

  “Dunno.” Jegsy shrugged. “Neat hat, though,” he said, picking up the wide-brimmed hat, examining it then placing it on his head. “Hey, I think it suits me. What do you think, Flotsam? Flotsam?” Jegsy turned to look at the other dragon.

  Flotsam was lying flat out on the ground.

  That’s why the clothes were there, thought Jegsy. It was a trap. His suspicion was confirmed when he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and he was knocked out.

  Clinging to the thick trunk of the oak above the two unconscious dragons, Dirk Dilly swung his trusty tail back up and smiled. Then he dropped to the ground and headed towards the riverfront.

  “Two down,” he muttered.

  For a moment Holly thought the dragon was going to bite her. She closed her eyes in anticipation but his teeth fell just short, cutting through the ropes that were holding her down.

  “Move,” said the Scavenger, backing out and knocking the doors wide open. Holly followed him. “And no funny business. Unless you want to be toast.”

  Stepping outside, Holly could see the other yellow-backed dragon on the roof. It stared at her intently.

  “Where are the others?” Leon asked Mali.

  “They went to check out a noise that Flotsam heard.”

  “Idiots. Come on, let’s get the girl in place.”

  Mali jumped down and nudged Holly towards the river. “Move,” he said.

  Her heart beating fast, she walked towards the riverfront, where the wooden raft was once again drawn in. “Get on,” said the smaller dragon.

  “What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

  “I’m not going to do anything to you. Now get on,” said the dragon, shoving her with his nose so that she slipped down the bank and on to the raft, which wobbled unstably. She dropped to her knees and clung to the base to avoid falling in, but water lapped over the top, soaking her jeans and making her hands bitterly cold.