The Case of the Crafty Christmas Crooks Read online

  "I'll take the top of the tree," he told us. "I'll jump on 'em from here."

  "Sounds good," Lil said. "Everyone attack if the burglars set one foot inside this house. That means all claws on 'full extension.' Scratch all you can and don't be afraid to bite."

  Right about then, I think my jaw practically dropped to the floor. Did she say bite? I'd never bitten anyone in my life. Holy Catnip! I only hoped I could do it.

  Now the thumping noise got louder and louder.

  Then we heard it. The sound that made my fur stand on end.

  "Bogey! Buckley!" A voice cried out. "Are you home? Let me in!"

  I rolled my eyes. "It's Hector."

  Lil groaned and stood up straight. "Hector. What in the world is he doing here?"

  Bogey sighed and started to climb down from the tree. "Better hide the Princess. I just saw her upstairs in the sunroom with Miss Mokie. She'll be fine as long as she stays there."

  "I'm on it," Lil said. She turned and zoomed up the stairs. I was amazed that such a round, stocky cat could run so fast.

  "Buckley? Bogey? Are you there?" Hector hollered from the other side of the front door. And when I say hollered, I do mean hollered.

  Hector is the Siamese who lives across the street and down a few doors. And if there's one thing that Siamese cats are famous for, it's the way they holler. And talk. And talk and talk and talk. In fact, Hector is known around the neighborhood for being a blabbermouth. A big blabbermouth. That's because he absolutely loves to find out any juicy gossip about anyone else. And whenever Hector gets any juicy gossip on anyone, well, he quickly passes that on to everyone.

  Unfortunately, we had something at our house that we didn't want him blabbing about. You might say we hadn't exactly been broadcasting that the Princess had come to live with us. After all, she was still kind of "in hiding" from her old abusive humans. We didn't want them to figure out where she was and come looking for her one day. When they got out of jail, that was.

  So why was Hector on our front porch now? Especially at this time of night and in this cold weather?

  "Hello, Hector," I said through the door. "What are you doing here?"

  Hector bumped against the door again. "What's going on in there, Buckley? I can hear voices. What are you guys talking about? I want to know."

  I shook my head and moaned. "It's none of your business, Hector."

  "Are you keeping secrets from me, Buckley?" Hector hollered even louder. "If you are, you might as well spill it. I always find out everything."

  Remember how I told you that Lil showed me a lot of respect? Well, Hector showed me the exact opposite. He didn't show me any respect at all.

  And it was starting to make me a little mad.

  "I haven't got anything to spill, Hector. And even if I did, I wouldn't spill it to you. Now, tell me why you're really here or I'm leaving. I've got things to do. Important things."

  Hector snickered. "Can you let me in, Buckley? I can't get in my house and it's cold out here."

  "Sorry," I told him. "But our house is all locked up. How come you're outside tonight anyway?"

  "I sneaked out of my house earlier," Hector said. "When they had the big robbery at the Nelsons' house. I absolutely had to see what was going on. So I popped out through the doggy door. I crossed the street and I ran all around the Nelsons' yard. But when I got back home, my family had already locked the doggy door. And they'd already gone to bed."

  Okay, when he told me all that, I had to say, I felt kind of sorry for the guy. After all, Bogey and I had been outside checking out the burglary, too. And if things hadn't gone our way, we could have been the ones locked out instead.

  Even so, we couldn't let Hector into our house, or he'd find out about the Princess. And we couldn't just leave him outside, either, since it was so cold.

  I looked to Bogey and shrugged. "What can we do?"

  Bogey motioned toward the office. "Not a problem, kid. We'll send a call from our Mom's computer to Hector's house. I'll type in a message and play it back with our speech converter. It'll tell them to let Hector in."

  My mouth fell open wide. "We can do that? Wow. I'll let Hector know."

  Bogey held up his paw. "Not so fast, kid. First let's see what Hector knows about the break-in. The guy was right there in the yard. Maybe he learned something."

  I nodded at my brother. "Oh, right. That sounds like a good idea. But how do we get him to tell us what he saw?"

  Bogey grinned. "It won't be hard, kid. All we have to do is get him started. Then he'll blab everything he knows. You know how he likes to talk."

  I wrinkled up my forehead. "I know. He always acts like he's so much better than me because he knows something that I don't."

  Bogey nodded. "Don't sweat it, kid. Use it to your advantage. Just let him play right into your paws."

  Now I grinned back. "Oh, okay. Sounds like a plan."

  Outside, Hector hollered some more. "Are you guys going to help me out, or what? What kind of neighbors are you?"

  "Bogey is just figuring it out," I meowed back to Hector. "Wow, that must have been something! Running around the Nelsons' yard! I wish Bogey and I could have been there."

  "Ha-ha!" Hector taunted me. "You had to stay home. You sure missed a lot!"

  "Really? Like what?" I asked in my most innocent voice.

  "Oh, all kinds of stuff," Hector told us. "There was wrapping paper all over the yard on the side of the house. Of course, that's where the burglars broke in. On the side of the house."

  "Really?" I encouraged him. "Which side? Our side, or the Mitchells' side?"

  "The Mitchells' side, of course," Hector said with a sneer in his voice. "If you had been there, you would have known that. It looks like the burglars took some of the stuff they stole out the same window they broke in to. But it also looks like they took some other stuff out the back door, too."

  "That's interesting. What else did you find out?" I asked him.

  Now his voice got kind of singsong-y. "Ha-ha! I was there and you weren't! I heard the humans talking and they said that Mrs. Mitchell is the one who called the police. And I heard her tell the police that she saw the break-in from her window. So she called them. But she was really shook up and she could barely even speak."

  "Wow," I said. "I'll bet she was upset."

  I hated the idea of Gracie or my Mom being as upset as Mrs. Mitchell was. Just the thought of it made me even more determined to solve this case.

  So I took a deep breath and tried to think of more questions to ask Hector to keep him talking. "What about Mr. Mitchell? And Mr. Nelson? Did they say anything?"

  I could tell that Hector had puffed out his chest. "Mr. Nelson was really angry. He kept wondering who could have done something so mean. And Mr. Mitchell just stood to the side with his arms folded. He looked really tired."

  "I'll bet Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell didn't sleep very well last night," I went on. "Especially after their house was broken into. So . . . is there anything else you can tell me?"

  "Isn't that plenty?" he snarled. "I know a lot more than you guys do."

  I winked at Bogey, who was working in our Mom's office just off the hallway. "You sure do, Hector."

  Bogey grinned as he typed on the computer. "Sounds like he's told us all he knows, kid. Tell him to run on home while I get the call set up."

  And I did just that. Seconds later, Hector was trotting across the street, without even telling us thank you. Bogey gave me a "paws up" to let me know the call had gone through. I ran to the dining room and pulled the curtains back, just in time to see the porch light at Hector's house go on. Then I saw the door open and Hector ran inside.

  Bogey came up beside me and handed me a cat treat from his secret stash. He had a big grin on his face.

  He glanced out the dining room window. "That worked out well, kid."

  I felt my ears stand straight up. "It did?"

  Bogey nodded and handed me another treat. "Yup, kid. Hector told us a lot."


  I stared at Bogey with wide eyes. "He did?"

  Bogey peered into the bag of treats that seemed to be running low. "Yup, kid. We found out there's probably more than one burglar. Two, at least. I'm betting one took stuff through the window and the other took stuff through the back door."

  I swallowed the salmon-flavored treat and thought about it. "Oh, right," I said after I'd connected all the dots. "That makes sense."

  Bogey reached way down into the bag and pulled out another treat. "Plus, kid, it looks like they stole the Christmas presents again."

  "How can you tell?" I asked him.

  "Easy, kid," he said. "There was wrapping paper all over the lawn. People wrap up their presents in special Christmas paper. And that paper must have torn off when the burglars took the presents through the window."

  Holy Catnip! There were more Christmas presents stolen? Now the Nelsons were going to feel as bad as the Mitchells did. Whoever these burglars were, they had to be stopped! And soon!

  Bogey licked the crumbs off his paws. "There's something I still can't figure out, kid. How did the burglars know the Nelsons and the Mitchells had already bought their Christmas presents? Lots of people haven't bought their presents yet."

  "Hmmmm . . ." I murmured. I tried to put my paw to my forehead, to help me think better. But I only ended up bonking myself in my whiskers.

  Still, I stared out the window and tried to come up with an answer to that question. Bogey must have been doing the same thing, since we both sat silently munching on our cat treats for a few moments.

  And then it hit me! The receipt I found at the Mitchells' house!

  Suddenly I was so excited I could hardly stand it. I started bouncing up and down. For once, I had figured out the answer before Bogey even did. Maybe I really was getting the hang of this whole cat detective business.

  I waved my paw in the air. "I know! I know!"

  Bogey grinned at me. "What is it, kid?"

  "The answer! I think I know what it is! I think I know how the burglar knew both the Nelsons and the Mitchells had gone shopping for Christmas presents."

  Right at that moment, I saw a strange look come over Bogey's face. He looked just like our Mom and Dad did when Gracie came home with A's on her report card. Bogey looked like he was . . . well . . . proud.

  He thunked his paw to his chest, right above his heart. "Way to go, kid! I knew you'd make a great cat detective one day. Now tell me what you've got figured out."

  For some reason, I couldn't stop dancing around the room. "Remember the receipt I found at the Mitchells' house? The one from Nunzio's Novelties and Knick-Knacks Shop?"

  Bogey nodded. "Yup, kid. I remember."

  I stopped dancing for just a few seconds. "What if the Mitchells shopped at Nunzio's store, too? What if they both bought their Christmas presents at his store?"

  Bogey munched thoughtfully on a cat treat. "It could add up, kid," he finally said. "Nunzio could steal back the stuff that he sold to people. Then he could put that stuff back on his store shelves. It would just look like merchandise for sale. Nobody would know the difference."

  "Uh-huh. Right," I agreed.

  Though to tell you the truth, I really hadn't thought about the part where he put the stuff back on his store shelves. It was a good thing I still had an experienced cat detective like Bogey to work with.

  Bogey stretched and glanced upstairs. "Well, one thing's for sure, kid. We've got to check out Nunzio's store. Just as soon as we can. But first we'll have to convince our Mom to take us to work with her. Then we'll sneak on over to Nunzio's."

  I'm sure my eyes went pretty wide right about then. "Sounds like a plan," I managed to say.

  Then I gulped. Was it possible we were about to go and pay a visit to a real, live crook? Someone who had burglarized our neighborhood? A true criminal mastermind?

  I had been really scared tonight, when I thought that very criminal mastermind was trying to break into our house. So how would I feel if I purposely set paw into the same room as that burglar?

  The thought of it made me start shaking all over again.

  Holy Mackerel!

  CHAPTER_9

  __________________________

  Holy Mackerel! My head was still spinning as we ran surveillance one more time that night. I took the downstairs run and Bogey took the upstairs. Then, in the middle of the night, we switched. I ran the upstairs and Bogey took the downstairs.

  Bogey said it would keep us more alert if we changed up our routine every once in a while. Though right at that moment, I wasn't exactly feeling very alert. We'd been up all night, and I was ready for a nap. In fact, I was looking forward to it. All that surveillance can really be tiring on a guy.

  I was also looking forward to finding out about Bogey's plan to get us to the Nelsons' house. So we could take a look at that crime scene, too. In all our excitement during the night, I'd forgotten to ask him about it.

  But it would have to wait until I had finished my upstairs surveillance run.

  I trotted down the hallway to Gracie's room and took a peek inside. Lil was lying on Gracie's bed, keeping an eye on things. She waved at me and gave me a nod of her head.

  I gave her a "paws up" and continued on my route. A half hour later, I had checked out all the upstairs rooms except for one.

  The sunroom.

  That's when I paused. Okay, stopped dead in my tracks is more like it. Funny, while I was really afraid of burglars, there were other things that kind of scared me, too.

  And one of those "things" was in the sunroom, resting on a purple velvet couch.

  Holy Catnip!

  Actually, she wasn't a "thing" at all. Instead, she was a very, very, very old cat. So old you might even say she was ancient. And because she was so old, she'd been to lots of different places and seen lots of different things in her lifetime. Some said she'd even flown on an airplane once. Bogey told me she'd lived in five different states and two different countries.

  But I guess that's what happens when you get to be old. It seems the more candles you count on your birthday cake, the more stuff you've learned in life. So by the time you get to be really, really, really old, you have all kinds of wisdom. And let me tell you, the old cat in the sunroom was known for her wisdom. That's why everyone just called her "The Wise One." Her real name was Miss Mokie.

  Yet even though she'd become very wise, her joints were kind of stiff and achy. That meant she had a hard time getting around the house. So she mostly just stayed in the sunroom. That way she could feel the warmth of the sun as soon as it came up in the morning. The heat made her aching joints feel better.

  For some reason, I always felt a little nervous when I was around Miss Mokie. Maybe it was because she was so smart that it seemed like she was almost reading my mind sometimes.

  Or maybe it was because she was absolutely revered around our house. It was said she once ruled the roost with an iron paw.

  I only hoped I would be as old and wise as she was one day.

  I padded carefully to the sunroom door and paused to take a deep breath. Running surveillance on the upstairs of the house meant I had to go into the sunroom, too. That room had to be checked out just like every other room.

  I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. Then I gathered up every bit of courage I could find, just to set paw in that room. It didn't help that I knew even Bogey felt a little nervous around The Wise One.

  Still, I had a job to do. And I had to do it right. So I opened my eyes and stood up nice and straight. Then I stepped into the room.

  Miss Mokie noticed me the second I walked in. She was a huge, gray cat with long fur. Her fur stuck out in a ruff around her neck that kind of made her look like a lion. And even though she was a little shaky these days, her green eyes were still bright and full of life.

  As always, she was lounging on her couch. She raised a paw just as I stepped inside the room, letting me know that I should halt.

  “Please identity yourself,”
she commanded me.

  I bowed, just like Bogey had taught me to do. "It's me, Miss Mokie. Detective Buckley Bergdorf."

  She nodded to me, like a queen nodding to her subject. “Ah, yes, young Detective. Please enter and partake of a drink.” She pointed a paw in the direction of her private water dish.

  I leaned over the dish and took a sip. It would have been rude not to. And us cats always used our very best manners around Miss Mokie.

  When I stood up again, Miss Mokie motioned to the Princess, who was sitting across from her on another chair. "The good Princess Alexandra has kindly been keeping me company this fine winter night. It's been such a delight to have her join our family this year."

  The Princess looked at me with her big, green eyes, and my heart made this funny pat-a-pat-pat sound. Suddenly, I forgot why I'd even come into the room.

  "Hello again, Buckley," she said. "Do you like our pretty Christmas tree that went up today?"

  All I could manage to do was nod and mumble, "Um-hum. I like it a lot."

  Miss Mokie sat up, towering over us on her purple throne. "Are you here as part of your cat detective duties?"

  I glanced around the room. "Yes I am, Miss Mokie. It's my turn to run surveillance on the upstairs of the house."

  "Excellent," she said. "Simply excellent. But I sense something is troubling you, young Detective."

  It was? I guess I hadn't really been aware of anything that was troubling me. Well, except for the break-ins and all the new stuff I'd learned in one short day. And then there was all the usual stuff that bothered me. Sometimes I worried about Gracie and sometimes I worried that Bogey would get into trouble.

  But aside from that, the only thing that had really been bothering me was . . .

  "I don't understand all this stuff about Christmas," I blurted out. The second I'd said it, I couldn't believe that I'd said it. For some reason, it just came bursting out of me.

  Holy Catnip! What had I done?

  The Wise One furrowed her brow. "I see. What is it that you don't understand?"

  Before I could even think about it, more words rushed out of me like a big, giant flood. A flood I couldn't seem to stop.