The Case of the Monkey Burglar Page 6

  I glared down at him for a moment, shaking my head and wondering how one little mutt could be so worthless. “Okay, never mind. I’ve got to stick with the plan.”

  “I feel awful about this!”

  I stepped over his carcass and hopped up on the side of the house, until I could see through the window. I knew it! There he was, stretched out in the tub with water up to his chin and a peaceful grin on his face.

  Well, you know me. When Duty calls, I get pretty serious about things. I barked and I barked and I barked—big barks, manly barks, the kind of barks that can cause a rock to jump up and start dancing.

  Again, I peered through the window . . . and couldn’t believe my eyes. He was still asleep and hadn’t even moved! And at that very moment I heard a sound up at the machine shed. I cocked my ear and listened: a rattle, a clink. Someone was inside the machine shed!

  I cut my eyes from side to side. My mind was swirling. What should I do? Drover had gone into a swoon, and Slim was asleep in the bathtub. Should I stay at the house, claw the screen off the window, dive through the window glass, and make a desperate attempt to get Slim’s attention?

  Or should I march up to the machine shed and take care of the nasty business without any backup?

  Time was slipping away, and my heart was pounding like the beat of a heartbeat. I had to do something. I decided to take matters into my own hands. If I went down in battle, at least I would go out protecting my ranch. I would be honored and mourned. Sally May would cry when she got the news, and Miss Viola would throw herself across the casket and weep for days, crushed by the loss of her beloved Hank.

  When she learned that Slim had slept through the tragedy, she would refuse to go dancing with him, and maybe even refuse to speak to him again, and the cause of Justice would be served.

  I took a big gulp of air, perhaps one of my last, whirled around, and began my fateful march to the machine shed. But first I tripped over Drover. “Idiot! If you can’t help, at least get out of the way.”

  “Help!”

  “Our machine shed is being robbed.”

  “Hank, this leg’s killing me!”

  “I don’t care. While I’m gone, maybe you could bark a few times and try to get Slim out of the bathtub.”

  “I’ll try. Oh, the guilt!”

  I left him there and marched across the yard to the fence. My newly discovered reserves of courage lasted, oh, maybe five steps. At that point, I stopped and realized that . . . gulp . . . I was going into this action all alone and without backup. I would be going up against a professional monkey burglar, and I had no idea what kind of resistance he might offer.

  I mean, the guy had been trained to rob, so maybe he’d been trained to fight too: boxing, wrestling, karate, kajudo. Did he carry a billy club? A sword? I looked back toward the house. The light from the window spilled out into the yard, revealing that Drover was sitting up.

  “Uh . . . Drover, you’re looking better now. Listen, pal, I was wondering if you might . . .”

  BAM. He was stretched out again. “Oh, darn, there for a second the pain went away, but then it came back, and now it’s worse than ever! You’d better go on without me.”

  Great.

  Chapter Ten: The Moment of Truth Draws Near

  Have you ever noticed that Drover’s leg attacks seem to come at the very times when I could use his help the most? I’ve noticed it. There seems to be a pattern, and it’s caused me to wonder . . . oh well. The point is that I could scratch him off the list of possible backups.

  I leaped over the fence and began my fateful march up the hill to the machine shed. Again, I heard clinks and clanks, rattles and rumbles, coming from inside. This did very little to build up my reserves of courage. In fact . . .

  HUH?

  At that very moment, when my reserves of courage had just about hit bottom, I looked up and saw . . . yipes! A shadowy form was sprinting down the hill, coming directly at me! Holy smokes, the monkey had decided to attack me before I could attack him!

  The hair on my back stood straight up—I mean, we’re talking about a Mohawk haircut all the way from my ears to the base of my tail. I screeched to a stop and was about to haul the mail back to the house, when I noticed . . .

  Wait! It was only a cat. Pete. Ha ha. Did that give you a little scare? It did me.

  “Pssst. Pete, over here.” When kitty heard my voice, he slowed to a walk and crept toward me. He was glancing around with big eyes. “Hey, Pete, it’s really great to see you again, no kidding.”

  “Hankie, you might want to know that someone’s in the machine shed.”

  “Right. I knew that, Pete, and I was on my way to . . . uh . . . check it out. Listen, pal, I’ve been thinking. It bothers me that you and I never . . . well, do anything together.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Right. Sometimes it seems that all we ever do is fight and argue. And, Pete, that’s not good. I mean, we live on the same ranch, share the same air and sunshine . . .”

  His big yellow eyes seemed to glow in the light of the moon. “What’s the point, Hankie?”

  “The point? Ha ha. Pete, I don’t have any point. Okay, maybe a small point.” I laid a paw on his shoulder. “Pete, how would you like to go to work for the Security Division? We’ve never hired a cat before, but I’ve been watching you and . . . Pete, I’m impressed. Honest.”

  “Let me guess, Hankie. You want me to go with you to the machine shed?”

  I gave him an astonished look. “I hadn’t thought of that, Pete, but you know, it’s a pretty good idea. No, it’s a great idea. I mean, we could put you right to work, get you on the payroll and everything. And I think you’d enjoy the challenge, I really do.”

  “What does it pay?”

  “Pay? Ha ha. Well, Pete, a lot of our compensation comes from the satisfaction of doing a good job, know what I mean?”

  He pulled away from me. “That’s what I thought, Hankie. I think I’ll pass.”

  “What? Wait a second, don’t leave.” My mind was racing. “Okay, Pete, let’s cut the chatter and go straight to the bottom line. I’ve never asked a favor of you, but tonight, Pete, I need your help.”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “So I guess I’m putting our friendship on the line. What do you say?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have to give me an answer right this minute.”

  He walked away. “No.”

  I followed him. “I’m sure you’ll want to think it over.”

  “No.”

  “There’s no big rush.”

  “No.”

  I dived in front of him and glared into his cunning little eyes. “What do you mean, no?”

  He heaved a sigh. “Hankie, I don’t know who that is in the machine shed, but he doesn’t belong on this ranch.”

  “I’m aware of that, kitty, and that’s why I need your help. Would you want me to go in there all alone? Without a backup or even a companion to give me moral support?”

  He tapped his paw on the ground for a moment. “Yes, I think that would be all right.”

  “What!”

  He sprinted off into the darkness. “Good luck, Hankie.”

  “Come back here, you little weasel! Pete!”

  He was gone, and I was alone again.

  Now you know why we never hire cats. When the chips are down, the cats are gone.

  They’re lazy, arrogant, selfish, cunning, and deceitful. Friendship means nothing to a cat. They’ll love you and leave you, only they never loved you in the first place. A cat loves himself first, foremost, and forever, and the rest of the world can go to blazes.

  I was right back where I’d started, only I’d made a fool of myself by offering the scheming little fraud a great career opportunity. I should have known better, and I was tickled pink that he’d
turned me down.

  No, I wasn’t. I was scared silly, if you must know the truth, so scared that my legs felt like stalks of wilted celery. Could I go on with my lonely mission? Did I have the strength and courage to bust into the machine shed and engage a gangster monkey in hand-to-hand combat?

  I looked up at the dark sky and took several deep breaths of air. Only the distant stars understood the loneliness of being at the top, because they were at the top of everything. But there was one difference between me and the stars. All they had to do was twinkle. I had to PERFORM. No amount of twinkling would get me off the hook if that little monkey hauled off all the ranch’s tools.

  Slim could sleep in the bathtub. Drover could go on the sick list. Pete could be his usual slacker self. Me? I was Head of Ranch Security.

  There was nothing left to say, nothing more to discuss. I turned my nose toward the west and began my lonely trudge up the hill. When I reached the gravel drive, I marched with long determined strides to the big sliding double doors. I was very tempted to stop and think about what I was getting myself into, but I knew that if I ever stopped, I might never summon the courage to finish the job.

  I didn’t slow down or miss a step. I took aim for the gap between the . . . HUH? There he stood: a midget with big ears and a wide mouth . . . carrying an armload of tools. But here’s the part that almost blew me away. You thought I’d find Bub, dressed up in his cowboy costume? Me too. That’s exactly what I’d expected, but that’s not what I saw.

  I saw . . . A GIRL.

  No kidding. A monkey girl! She was wearing a short pink dress, a white blouse with fringe on the sleeves, and she had long red hair. She wore lipstick on her mouth and circles of red paint on her cheeks. What do you call that stuff? Rouge. Yes, she had circles of rouge on her cheeks.

  For a moment of heartbeats, we stared into each other’s eyes. She seemed as shocked to see me as I was to see her. Very shocked.

  Well, what’s a guy supposed to do when he catches a girl monkey stealing tools out of his barn? If this had been Bub in his cowboy outfit, I would have thrashed him on the spot—no questions, no prisoners, no deals, no mercy. But a girl?

  It took me a moment to find my voice. “Okay, sweetheart, I’m with the Security Division. Drop the tools.”

  The tools crashed to the ground. I marched a circle around her, studying every clue and detail. She didn’t move and seemed terrified. This was good. Maybe I could make the arrest without any great bloodshed.

  “What’s your name?”

  In a tiny squeak of a voice, she said, “Lucy.”

  “I see. Well, Lucy, I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re in serious trouble.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ve been caught in the act of stealing tools from my ranch.”

  “I know.”

  I stopped in front of her. “You look pretty scared.”

  “I am.”

  “So . . . does this mean you’ve never done this sort of thing before?”

  “No sir, never.”

  I paced around her again. “Just as I thought. I’m beginning to see a pattern here. Willie’s the boss of your gang, and he works two monkeys. Bub works the day shift, am I right?” She nodded. “You’re the new kid, and the boss is starting you out on the night shift, right?”

  In a quivering voice, she said, “Yes sir.”

  “It’s all very clever. You and Bub do the stealing and Willie sells the loot. Where does he sell the stuff, at auctions?”

  “Yes sir, and pawnshops in Oklahoma.”

  “Just as I figured. Does he cut you in on the dough?”

  “Well, sir”—her sad little eyes drifted to the ground—“he gives us two bananas a day.”

  “Two bananas. Gee, what a hero.”

  “And a box of Yum-Yums.”

  “What are Yum-Yums?”

  “Candy. You want one?”

  “No, thanks. I never eat candy on the job.” I paced another circle around her, then stopped and looked her in the eyes. “Lucy, how did a nice girl like you get mixed up with a bum like Willie? I mean, for crying out loud, the guy’s a crook!”

  “I know. I just . . .” She covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. I waited for her to get control of herself, but she kept crying. This was making me uneasy, so I laid a paw on her shoulder and told her to sit down.

  “There, there, don’t cry. You’re in big trouble, but it’s not the end of the world.”

  She sat down on the cement pad in front of the barn doors, and gazed up at me with tear-shimmering eyes. “You seem very kind, sir.”

  “Actually, I’m not kind at all, Lucy. I’m pretty hard-boiled and rarely show any emotion in my work, but . . . well, there’s something about your situation that touches me.”

  “You are kind, and I only wish . . .” She turned away.

  “You wish what? Tell me.”

  “I only wish . . . that you’d accept a small gift of friendship. A Yum-Yum.”

  “Lucy, we’re not supposed to accept gifts from strangers. It’s one of our rules.”

  A look of hurt filled her eyes and her lip began to quiver. “Oh, sir, I’m not a stranger! I’ve known me all my life.”

  “Well, sure, but I mean . . .”

  She clasped her hands in front of her. “I know I’ve been a bad girl, but if you think I’m strange”—she started crying again—“it just breaks my heart!”

  I moved a few inches away to avoid the splash of her tears. “Okay, Lucy, if it will make you feel better, I’ll accept your gift.”

  Chapter Eleven: Lucy’s Heartrending Story

  She stopped crying and reached into a pocket on the front of her dress. She pulled out a little box of candy. “Here, take them all.”

  “No, just one. Since you’ve got fingers, you dig it out of the box.”

  She opened the top of the box with her little monkey hands and offered me a roundish piece of chocolate candy. She laid it down on the cement, and I gave it a thorough sniffing.

  I mean, Lucy seemed like a nice kid, but I didn’t want to take any chances. When you’re dealing with the crinimal element, you never know. Don’t forget what Deputy Kile had said about the sleeping pills.

  It passed my Snifferation Test. This was chocolate candy, not some kind of goofball medicine. I swept it into my mouth and chewed it. My ears shot up. “Hey, this is the good kind, with mushamino cherries in the center. Wow, I love ’em!”

  A grin spread across her mouth, and . . . you know, it just got wider and wider. Nobody ever said that monkeys have pretty mouths. They don’t, not even the girls. “Would you like another?”

  “No, thanks. One’s plenty. Go on with your story. How in thunderation did you get mixed up with a gang of robbers?”

  Her smile faded and she looked away. “I was a rebellious child.”

  “I thought so. We hear this a lot.”

  “I never listened to my mother. We fought all the time, and I ran away from home and . . . joined the circus.”

  “Lucy, Lucy! I’ve never met your mother, but you should have listened to her. Mothers always know best. A circus is no place for a gerp. A girl, that is.”

  “I know that now, but I was stubborn and headstrong. You want another Yum-Yum?”

  “No, thanks.” My tongue swept across my lips. “Sure, what the heck, one more.”

  She brought a piece of candy out of the box. “Let me show you a trick we did in the circus.” She pitched it up in the air. “Snap it.”

  I watched as the candy arced gracefully into the air. Then, when it had reached its peak and started to come down, I opened my mouth, shifted my head slightly, and snapped it right out of the air. “Hey, did you see that? Maybe I should have gotten a job in the circus, huh?”

  “That was good, sir. You seem to be very talented.”
>
  I couldn’t help chuckling. “Well, I’m not one to brag, Lucifer, but . . .”

  “Lucy.”

  “Lucy. Sorry. I’m not one to bag, but yes, I’m fairly tounted. Anyway, go on with your story. You joined the curpus. Circus.” I stared at her face and noticed something odd. “Luby, do you have three eyes?”

  “Why, no sir, only two.”

  “Huh. That’s fumble . . . uh, funny. There for a second, I thought I saw tree eyes.”

  She giggled. “Oh, sir, you’re teasing me.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes sir, because trees don’t have eyes.”

  “Oh. Ha ha. You’re right, but I said three eyes, not . . . does it seem cold out here?”

  “No sir, maybe a little warm.”

  “That’s what I meant. I’m burping up.”

  “You’re sick?”

  “No, I said I’m burning up. Hot. Maybe I nerd some air.” I stood up and paced a few . . . now, that was really odd. My back legs just quit on me, and all at once I was . . . well, pulling myself along with my hiney dragging the ground.

  She noticed this and squeaked a laugh. “Oh, sir, you do the funniest things! It’s hard to believe that you’re a mean old guard dog.”

  “Ha ha. Yes, well, anything to impress the ladies, I always say, but actually . . . Loopy, all at wump things seem to be spinning around. Are you noticing anything lipe that?”

  She gazed up at the sky. “Well, sir, they say the earth is spinning around all the time. We just don’t notice it.”

  “Yeah, well, sullenly I notice it.” I dragged myself over to her. “Lizzie, I muss ask you a merry important quejon . . . question.”

  She sat up and gave me her full attention. “Yes, sir?”

  I leaned toward her . . . actually, I fell into her lap. “Oops, sorry.” I gathered myself up, swaying back and forth. “Lukie, tell me the troof, the honest troof. I mutts know. Bottom line: Are you a good lil mucky or a bad lil mucky?”

  She gave me an odd smile. “The truth? You want the truth?” I happened to be looking directly at her when she . . . HUH? Peeled off the red wig and pitched it on the ground, and wiped the lipstick on the back of her hand. And when she spoke, her voice had changed. “Check it out. I’m Bub, same guy. Hee hee. Did I fool you?”