The No. 2 Feline Detective Agency Page 18

  ‘Well that’s a good start,’ muttered Hettie. ‘So much for a factual account if no one can remember. That smacks to me of making it up as you go along.’

  Tilly ignored the interjection and continued. ‘As you said earlier, it all happened in and around the old Peggledrip house, out on the road to Much Purring on the Rug. Much Purring was a very small village in those days, and everyone knew everyone else’s business. Back then, the Myers family lived in what is now the Peggledrip house. There were five of them – Mr and Mrs Myers and their three kittens, two boy cats and one small girl. Milky was the oldest and he helped his father with his milk round, which is why they called him Milky.’

  Hettie began to fidget. ‘That’s not even interesting. Get to the good bit – weren’t there lots of murders?’

  ‘Yes, I’m getting to that, but I thought you’d like some background on the case first.’

  ‘Oh look! There’s the dwarf! Nasty little creature – wait till it turns around.’

  The two cats watched as the creature in the red mac ran amok. It was some time before Tilly returned to her own interpretation of the Milky Myers story, but Hettie had to agree that it was worth the wait.

  ‘Now where was I?’ asked Tilly, opening the toffee popcorn with such force that it scattered itself across the room. Reluctant to leave the fire, she made a mental note to gather up the stray bits in the morning and pushed on with her story as the credits rolled on Don’t Look At All. ‘They say that Milky was a bit touched.’

  ‘Who does?’ chimed in Hettie, getting irritated.

  ‘I just did,’ sighed Tilly, her patience wearing thin. ‘Anyway, that’s why he worked with his father. He couldn’t be trusted to behave himself.’

  Wanting to comment further but realising that Tilly wouldn’t appreciate it, Hettie forced a large pawful of popcorn into her mouth and chewed as quietly as she could while her friend continued. ‘One cold October morning, Milky and his father set out with their milk float to Much Purring On the Rug and never got there, even though it was only two miles down the road. The milk float was found later that day down a farm track, with milk and broken bottles everywhere. Milky’s father lay dead on the floor with a half empty milk bottle forced into his mouth. There was no sign of Milky, and they thought he must have been kidnapped. One of the cats from Much Purring went to the Myers house to deliver the bad news and found the kitchen door wide open. He went in and discovered Mrs Myers and two of her kittens sitting round their breakfast table, all dead with milk bottles forced into their mouths, then he ran from the house shouting “Murder!” all the way back to Much Purring on the Rug.’

  Hettie really couldn’t hold herself back any longer. ‘Well, that’s just ridiculous! Why didn’t he get help? You mean to tell me that he left a dead cat in a milk float and a kitchen full of similar dead cats and ran two miles back to his village shouting murder? Who was this helpful bystander, or was it longer ago than anyone can remember?’

  Tilly had to agree that the story had wandered a little in the telling over the years, but the facts of the case were no less interesting and she continued in spite of Hettie’s doubts. ‘Later that day, Milky’s aunt and uncle were also discovered in the Myers dairy at the back of the Peggledrip house, where they worked, drowned in a large milk churn with bottles shoved in their mouths. There was still no sign of Milky. The town buried its dead and searched for months and months to find Milky, who was never seen again – not until years later, anyway. A couple of kittens were playing in the garden of the empty Myers house when one of them saw a face at the window and went in to investigate. The kitten was later found dead in the back garden with a scotch egg jammed in her little mouth. To this day, no one has ever found out what happened to Milky Myers, but on Hallowe’en his ghost returns to haunt his old house, the dairy and the farm track where the milk float was discovered. He’s also been seen in the graveyard where the Myers family was laid to rest.’

  The two cats sipped cocoa thoughtfully and it was Hettie who broke the silence. ‘What I find odd is that everyone assumes that Milky Myers murdered his own family. Then we’re made to believe that he just disappeared never to be seen again except as a ghost on Hallowe’en or by a stray kitten who just happened to glance up at the window of an empty house. And Irene Peggledrip has lived in that old house for as long as I can remember – she doesn’t seem too worried about its history, in spite of her weird parties. And what about this cat from Much Purring? That’s a strange village at the best of times, full of halfwits with their trousers tied up with string. He had the opportunity to kill the whole of the Myers family and still be home in time for a big lunch. Maybe he killed Milky as well and no one has found the body or even bothered to look for it.’

  ‘Do you think he ate a scotch egg for lunch?’ asked Tilly, trying to keep up. ‘That would liven the evidence up a bit.’

  The two friends laughed at the ridiculous turn the story was taking, and the clock on the staff sideboard ticked towards midnight, the magical hour on Hallowe’en when the dead rise from their graves and purveyors of dark arts step out into the light. If there was any truth in the legend, Milky Myers was going to have a very busy night.

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  About the Author

  MANDY MORTON began her professional life as a musician. More recently, she has worked as a freelance arts journalist for national and local radio. She currently presents the radio arts magazine The Eclectic Light Show and lives with her partner, who is also a crime writer, in Cambridge and Cornwall, where there is always a place for an ageing long haired tabby cat.

  @icloudmandy

  @hettiebagshot

  HettieBagshotMysteries

  Copyright

  Allison & Busby Limited

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  London W1T 6DW

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  First published in 2014.

  This ebook edition published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2015.

  Copyright © 2014 by MANDY MORTON

  The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978-0-7490-1910-5