The Case of the Kidnapped Collie. John R. Erickson

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СКАЧАТЬ Hankie. Were you sleeping on the job?”

      At that very moment, Data Control kicked in at full blast and I received a very important trans­mission: It was neither raining nor Tuesday. It was Pete the Barncat.

      I glared at the little snipe with eyes of purest steel.

      “Okay, Kitty, let’s get right to the point. We’ve just learned that there’s a porkchop on the eighth floor, and don’t bother denying it. We’ve followed the trail of turnip greens and it leads . . .”

      I cut my eyes from side to side. All at once what I was saying didn’t make a great deal of sense. I shot a glance back to the cat. Had he noticed? I had to find out how much he knew.

      “Pete, do you know anything about this porkchop deal?”

      He grinned and shook his head. “No, I don’t, Hankie, but I would just love to hear about it. Tell me about the porkchop on the eighth floor.”

      I marched a few steps away and took a deep breath of . . . well, air, of course. What else would . . . anyway, it seemed to clear my head.

      “I’m sorry, Pete, but I’m not at liberty to discuss a case in progress. Our files are not open to the public, and they’re especially not open to public cats.”

      “Mmmmmm! It must have been very secret.”

      “Exactly. It was so secret, in fact, that if I revealed even one particle of information, I would have to arrest you for being in possession of Dangerous Particles of Information.”

      “Oooooooo! My goodness, Hankie, how do you carry all that dangerous information around in your head?”

      I could see that he was impressed. He should have been. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as I had thought. I marched back over to where he was sitting.

      “That’s a good question, Kitty. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to say any more about our techniques for gathering and storing intelligence data. Sorry.”

      “Oh darn.” He stared at me with those weird yellowish eyes with the little slit down the middle. “I was so eager to learn more about the porkchop on the eighth floor.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “Well, Hankie, that’s what you said when you,” he grinned, “woke up from your nap during working hours.”

      Perhaps you’re thinking that all of this sounds slightly ridiculous, but it’s leading up to something very important. You see, in the course of the conversation, Pete revealed . . . well, you’ll find out soon enough.

      It had to do with a robbery that was taking place on my ranch in broad daylight, and that’s all I can tell you.

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