 
Book I in the Teddy Roosevelt Detective Series

The Mystery  
of the  
Scarlet Stiletto

ROBERT SULLIVAN
CONTENTS

1. Preface

2. The Tomkins Tap Team

3. Grand Theft Petsville

4. The mystery of the Scarlet Stiletto

5. The food truck at 8th and A

6. Wiped out in Williamsburg

7. Scorched Scotties and Phantom Ferrets

8. The Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village

9. Now what?

# Acknowledgements

I would like to acknowledge the generous time, advice and suggestions provided by Sheila Sall, Sharon Buckley, Jan Rasmussen, Sarah Spence, Anna Sullivan and Patrick Sullivan during the completion of this book. Your observations and guidance have been invaluable.

I would also like to acknowledge Teddy, the Dog Detective, for his unswerving commitment to truth, justice, the TTDA and the pursuit of food. His daily and ever changing ruminations on the merits of canine cuisine are always inspiring.

# Preface

Teddy Roosevelt lives in Williamsburg in Brooklyn with his landlord, whose name is Anna. Their apartment is on North Seventh, not far from the Bedford Avenue subway stop. This is good, because Teddy and the other members of the Tomkins Tap Detective Agency all hang out in Tompkins Park in East Village. East Village is on Manhattan Island, only a short one-stop subway ride from Bedford Avenue.

There are no favourites in the TTDA. Everyone's a foot soldier, and everyone's treated the same. This is important in a big team. There are four squads in the TTDA - the Dogs: Teddy, Milo, and Perky; the Rats: Rambo, Ike and Charlene; the Squirrels: Ernie, Terry and Graeme; and the Pigeons: Percy, Petunia and Pilsbury. So yes, it's a large crew. And a good one. It's like the Musketeers: 'All for one and one for all'. What a team!

Now one of Teddy's pet hates has always been unsolved mysteries. And Brooklyn and Manhattan are both filled with mystery. So Teddy decided he'd do something about it. Well, someone had to. He rallied the troops and they made a plan. If there was a mystery or an unsolved problem in the 'burb, then they were going to chase it down. No pun intended of course. They were going to worry it and chew on it until they found the answer. Again, no pun intended.

That's when they formed the Tompkins Tap Detective Agency. Everyone was a member, everyone was equal, and everyone had a shoulder patch. The Agency motto is the stuff of legend.

• We will leave no Dog, Rat, Squirrel or Pigeon behind;

• We are all for one and one for all, always;

• We will never surrender; and

• There will be no fighting over the beignets

But while everyone was equal, there still had to be a leader. Milo said it was called 'primus inter pares', or something like that. He said he learned it at school, or maybe read it in a book somewhere. The leader needed to be someone with vision and enthusiasm, someone with a razor intellect, someone with the strength to carry the load, someone taller than twelve inches high. Well almost. And there was no doubt about it, there was only one leader, and that was Teddy Roosevelt – Dog Detective Extraordinaire. He was the Dog of the Moment. He might only be twelve inches high but he stood six feet tall and wore big boots. What a Dog!

But...and it's a big but...before we go any further we should know who's who in the TTDA.

Read on below and meet the team.

# The Tompkins Tap Team

The Dogs

1. Teddy: Buff coloured Cairn Terrier with black ears. Lives with Anna at 247 North 7th in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York City. About 20 inches long and not much over twelve inches tall. Very fluffy when not groomed, and even fluffier when he is, especially when Anna uses a blow-dryer. Well-read, intelligent and articulate. Favourite foods are Kongs, Greenies, cheese, eggs, pasta and pizza - in fact, anything human is AOK. Very good friends with Milo and Perkie. Loves cooking. Always experimenting with new recipes. Shares these regularly with friends. Favours Men-in-Black sunnies and a trench coat with belt and large brown buttons, worn with collar turned up. Often refers to Rambo as 'Splinter'.

2. Milo: Extra large St Bernard with a shaggy brown and black coat, floppy ears, hair hanging over eyes. About 4 feet long and 3 feet tall. Long time friend of Teddy's from the Tomkins Park Dog Run. Laconic and calm, intelligent and thoughtful. Favourite foods are Shake Shack burgers, Greenies, and sausages with bbq sauce. Thinks Perkie is just a little bit bossy. Sometimes wears a beret. Has enormous paws.

3. Perkie: No-nonsense Pekinese with a golden coat. She wears her hair long and sometimes has trouble seeing clearly. About eighteen inches long and twelve inches tall, she loves lamingtons and truffles but will settle for Iced VoVos in a crunch. Always talking about Tricky Woo. A wiz on the computer and very organised. Wears blue over-the-top glasses with sparkles and loves jewellery and nail polish. Teddy and Milo are very protective of Perkie. Needless to say Perkie doesn't need anyone to protect her.

The Rats

1. Rambo: Large black rat who sports a man-bun, often worn as a pigtail. Tattoo of 'Annette' on right shoulder. Affects sleeveless muscle shirts and berets, often wears a sleeveless leather waistcoat. Speaks English, French and Russian plus a smattering of Haka and Nepali. Strong and quick, prone to angry outbursts, doesn't suffer fools gladly, one finger missing from right paw due to accident with a winch during a bitter winter on Kola Bay. Loves all things French - coc au vin and vichyssoise, and French writers. Doesn't like crowds and is always complaining about lining up – but bad luck, he lives in New York. Has great respect for Teddy and Milo.

2. Ike: Large brown rat. Ex Merchant Navy like Rambo but no tatts. Loves motorcycles and is a bikie wannabe – wears leather pants and a leather waistcoat with 'Sarsparillos' (bikie gang out of Taos, New Mexico) embroidered on the back. Also affects leather wristbands with silver studs and a silver skull ring on each thumb. Balding and vain, says he speaks only 'American' – but in truth also fluent in Russian with a smattering of Hindi. Loves a good Sunday roast with plenty of baked potatoes. Also loves Beef Wellington, Toad in the 'ole, Spotted Dick, and mandarins. Has very nasty toenails. Completely loyal to Rambo.

3. Charlene: Medium size black rat with brown patches. Has delicate paws and loves bright pink or blue nail polish and glitzy earrings. Always wears a silk scarf in summer and a pashmina shawl in winter. Favourite food is banana cream from the Lillipilli Bakery and Buttermilk Fried Chicken sandwiches from Astro's. Also wears eyeliner and, sometimes, fake eyelashes. No one dares mention this of course. Sharp of wit and very bright. Has a kind streak but doesn't tolerate rudeness very well. Always telling Ike he should have a pedicure.

The Squirrels

1. Ernie: Grey Squirrel with bushy tail with white stripe. Has very long black whiskers and wears round spectacles with brown plastic frames. Short sighted and smart with a great deal of common sense. Loves nuts, left over sandwiches and burgers, and cabbage. Slightly smaller than the other Squirrels, Terry or Graeme, but much more intelligent. Has a habit of chewing on his claws when nervous. Highly regarded and respected by all the TTDA team.

2. Terry: Black Squirrel with bushy tail. Grey patches on shoulders. Hair on head sticks straight up like a Mohawk haircut. Rambo calls him Cochise – which is actually an Apache name - but Rambo doesn't care and Terry doesn't have a clue. Terry has lived all over Manhattan and Brooklyn but prefers Tomkins to everywhere else. It's close to Ray's! Terry loves Ray's beignets and deep fried Oreos. And nuts of course. You can never have too many nuts! In fact, Terry likes all food and is prone to disappear at the smell of food or the sight of an over-flowing garbage can. Absolutely cannot be trusted if there's a Shake Shack nearby.

3. Graeme: Brown Squirrel with grey stripes and a large bushy black tail. Like Terry, Graeme shaves his hair on the sides and leaves it long on top. You can never have too much product! Loves facials and prefers to wear designer sunglasses most days –has several pairs. Likes long sleeved cotton shirts with checks and button down collars. Rambo and Ike sometimes call him 'Doughboy'. They've never explained why. Graeme adores nuts, gluten free bread, red velvet cupcakes and vanilla yogurt. Wears a large silver Breitling watch and likes going to the spa. Has two pairs of tartan lounge slippers in his cubby.

The Pigeons

1. Percy: Grey, white and brown Pigeon. Slightly smaller than Perkie but stands taller. Bright eyed and quick moving. A born leader, Percy speaks well and has a good memory for faces. Bright red bracelet on left ankle. Loves all grains, cold chips (especially with ketchup) and broken crackers. Has kind streak. Frquently tells Rambo he's channeling Van Gogh and calls him 'Vincent'. Rambo loves this as much as 'Splinter'.

2. Pilsbury: Dark grey/blue Pigeon. Bright yellow legs and feet, a red beak and shiny black eyes. Loyal and slow moving but steadfastly persistent and always reliable. Worships Milo and Percy. Loves quinoa - organic of course - but also likes seeds and left over doughnuts. Walks in a funny rolling gait as if he's a cowboy. Ike calls him 'Duke'. Pils has no idea what Ike is talking about.

3. Petunia: Dainty grey Pigeon with white and blue stripes on wings. Dark grey beak and beady black eyes. Pink legs and feet. Silver ring on right ankle. Sharp as a tack and loyal to the team, but first loyalty always to the Pigeons. Will always speak her mind. Rambo called her a 'harpy' once, but only once. Loves seeds and grains, and will fly many blocks if there are left over burgers and chips. Special favourites are stale pizza, cupcakes, and key lime pie.

# Grand Theft Petsville

An emergency meeting of the TTDA had been called. A heist had gone down in Union Square. The Petsville store on the corner of Broadway and 17th had been knocked over and a lot of loot had walked out the door. Now Teddy was hotfooting it to a TTDA meet in Tomkins Park. He knew a little about the robbery, because he'd spoken with Spud Murphy at the 13th Precinct, but not enough. He hoped that Milo and the others knew more.

Tomkins Park sits in the heart of East Village in Lower Manhattan, a grungy mix of old tenements, new apartment blocks, bars, bodegas and tattoo parlours sitting in the shadow of the East Side Con Ed power station and Stuyvesant Town. Once a run down and dangerous neighbourhood East Village is changing steadily as 'gentrification' tightens its grip. The streets are cleaner, the parks are neater – and safer - the shops have moved up market, the bars have all upgraded, and the hipsters are moving in, much to the dismay of many of the older residents.

Tomkins Park, or Tompkins Square Park to be completely accurate, has a long and colourful history, stretching back to the founding of New York. The Park is filled with gardens and monuments and has several open grassy areas in the middle. At the north end it has basketball courts and two Dog Runs. The Park covers several city blocks and is more than 4 hectares in size. Bounded by East 10th at the north end, East 7th at the south end, and by Avenues B and A on the east and west sides respectively, the Park is treasured by the residents of East Village and is the centre for many cultural events and all sorts of recreation. It's also home to hundreds of Rats, Squirrels and Pigeons. And the Dog Runs are used every day by hundreds of Dogs. The Park is the home of the TTDA. It's a natural.

When Teddy arrived the whole team was gathered near the picnic tables in the centre of the park. Only Terry was missing. This wasn't unusual. When Teddy looked at Ernie, the Chief Squirrel, Ernie held up his paws and shrugged. "Lost him over near Ray's" he said. "He'll get here. He'll just be a little late."

Teddy nodded to himself. Beignets! That'll do it.

The picnic area sat next to the Little Dog Run, separated from the basketball courts by a wide bitumen path that ran through the middle of the park between Avenue A and Avenue B. The tables in the picnic area were set on a large concrete pad and arranged in a loose U-shape. The TTDA was gathered in the open space between the tables and the path.

Perkie and Milo were sitting with their backs to the path. The Rats were arranged in a row opposite, leaning against one of the picnic tables. On the left were the Pigeons, nestled down on the concrete, close by the fence to the Little Dog Run. On the right the Squirrels clustered in a tight bunch, their tails high in the breeze. Teddy joined the Dogs, taking a spot between Milo and Perkie.

"What's the hap T?" asked Perkie.

"Crime" said Teddy. "It's the heist at Petsville. It's all over the news. What do we know about it?"

There was an immediate hubbub of barks, squeaks and chirps as everyone tried to speak at once. Also two hiccups and a single loud burp.

"Ok. Ok" said Teddy. "Let's get some order in this. We'll take it in turns. Let's hear it from the Pigeons first."

Percy fluffed his feathers and looked serious. "We heard there was a robbery but that's all. We don't know what was stolen but Pilsbury spoke with some of the birds on Broadway. They said there were four perps, all wearing black hoodies and balaclavas. Right Pils?"

"Affirmative" chirped Pilsbury.

"Ok. Thanks Perce. Rats? Splinter, what's your take?" barked Teddy, looking at Rambo. Rambo loved it when Teddy called him Splinter. He'd seen all the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies and loved them. Rambo was sitting on his haunches, one elbow on his knee, his chin resting on one paw while he picked at his shoulder patch with the other. He was wearing his usual attire, a black beret and a sleeveless leather waistcoat over a black and white striped sleeveless muscle top. He looked like Albert Camus, which was as intended, and he looked bored, though he was really just trying to look cool. Charlene usually harassed him when he did this. She said his...ennui... made her tired... so stop it! But so far she hadn't said anything. Rambo shrugged.

"Comme ci comme ca!" he said. "We heard the same. Four perps, black hoodies. But we also heard that one had furry white paws. No other identifying features though."

"Anything on how they did it?" asked Teddy.

Ike was sitting next to Rambo. He was wearing his Sarsparillos waistcoat. He leaned forward, clacking his thumb rings together, his whiskers twitching. "Classic double play" he rasped. His voice sounded like someone dragging a trash can across broken cement. "Two of 'em distracted the checkout staff. The other two hit the stacks. Everyone was wearin' balaclavas. So it said in the noospapers. Got away with forty-two packets of Kongs and sixty-one boxes of Greenies. It was a big one."

There were umms and arrs and chirps and coos all round as the team digested the news. It was a major robbery, that's for sure, but it was also something that dreams were made of. Forty-two packets of Kongs! Sixty-one boxes of Greenies! Sacre bleu!

Teddy turned to the Squirrels. "Ernie? Anything from your squad?"

All the Squirrels shook their heads, their tails wobbling in unison. "Nix Boss" said Ernie. "Nothing at all on the street. We saw some of the Dachies earlier but they didn't know anything either."

"Ok" said Teddy. He looked at Milo and Perkie. "Milo, Perks, have you heard anything else that might help?"

"Nyet" rumbled Milo. Perkie shook her head and blew on her nails.

"So they were definitely Dogs?" asked Teddy, of no one in particular.

Rambo answered. "Furry paws my furry friend, furry paws. Sounds like some of your relatives to me." There was another round of mumbling and rumbling and a few sniggers.

Teddy held up a paw. "Amusing as always. Has anything like this happened before?"

Percy responded. "Yeah. Remember what happened down on Houston? You know, when Guzinszki's lost about twenty Reubens and a dozen Matzos."

"You reckon?" growled Ike. "Doesn't sound the same to me. Kongs and Greenies aren't the same as Reubens and Matzos."

"Percy's right though." Milo's drawl rumbled deep in his chest, like an old truck. "The newspapers said the Petsville robbers were wearing balaclavas. I think the perps at Guzinszki's wore balaclavas too. Right?"

Rambo nodded. "Yep. Could be the same crowd I guess."

Just then there was a loud rustling and the sound of scampering feet. It was Terry. He was breathing heavily and dragging a large crumpled brown paper bag. It had Shake Shack written on the side in large red and yellow letters. He sat down between Ernie and Graeme with a small thud. He looked tired. And hot. He pointed to the bag. "Burgers" he said breathlessly. Ernie didn't look pleased, Perkie tutt-tutted, Ike sniggered, Petunia hiccupped. Rambo sneered.

"Been out on the range Cochise?" he grated. "Did ya cop any Dog Soldiers? Or maybe hear a discouraging word?" Rambo and Ike slapped paws and hunched over laughing.

Terry just looked confused. "What's he talking about?" he asked Ernie.

"Well, I think it might be a reference to your haircut" said Ernie.

Terry looked even more confused. "It's a Mohawk. Why is he calling me Cochise?" Rambo and Ike laughed even louder.

"Leave him alone" said Charlene, blowing on her nails. "Do you like this colour Perkie?"

Teddy held up his paws again and patted the air. "Ok. Let's keep it on the straight and narrow. Does anyone remember anything similar to the Petsville heist? Something that occurred in, say, the past two to three months?"

There was silence for a minute or so then Petunia piped up. She fluffed her feathers and blinked her sharp black eyes several times. "My auntie told me that the Lillipilli Bakery was rolled last month. The robbers made off with one hundred cupcakes and ten cartons of banana cream."

There was a round of moans and sighs. Graeme looked particularly sad. "Were they red velvet cupcakes?" he asked. "I love banana cream too." There was another round of sighs and moans.

"Crikey!" exclaimed Rambo. "Get a grip. It's only food." Graeme and Terry looked at each other and rolled their eyes and swished their tails. What a philistine!

"Yep" said Teddy. "Let's get a grip. We need to approach this systematically. I reckon we undertake a grid search. We can divvy up the surrounding suburbs and cover all of them pretty quickly. It's just after 10am so we have plenty of time. Let's plan and execute then meet back here later today. 4pm sharp." Teddy moved away from the picnic area to a small patch of dusty gravel next to the bitumen path. He quickly sketched a rough outline of East Village and the suburbs close by. He turned to the Rats.

"Rambo, you and the Rats take Grammercy and East Village. Scout around, keep a look out for suspicious characters – you'll recognise them pretty quickly. If they aren't locals they'll stand out. Check all the major eateries – Astro's, Jimmy's Noodles, Mickey's Irish Tavern and so on - you know what to do."

"Ten four Blue Leader" rasped Rambo. He slapped his shoulder patch and circled one finger in the air. The Rats headed out. Teddy turned to the Squirrels.

"Ernie. Could you and the Squirrels check all the parks – Tomkins, Union Square, Washington – large and small alike. Watch for loiterers and suspicious groups, Dogs in particular. They'll be keeping to themselves, especially if they have any loot. And keep an eye out for white furry feet. That could be the give-away."

As Ernie and the Squirrels scampered off, Teddy tapped another section of the sketch and spoke to Percy. "Perce. It's a grid search for the Pigeons. You have the height advantage so to speak so I suggest you do it street by street. In pairs would be best, one on each side of the road. Watch the alleys and lanes. And take a quick look along the High Line too." There was a chirp from Percy then a flurry of dust and a rattle of feathers as the Pigeons took off.

Teddy turned to the Dogs. "Righto me hearties. We do the hard yards today. We cover Greenwich Village, Soho and Little Italy, and the Lower East Side. I know that's a lot of ground to cover but it's doable. Keep your eyes open and don't upset the locals. We have good press with the Scotties. Let's keep it that way. You know how sensitive they can be."

The Dogs moved off in a tight cluster. Their target suburbs were mainly to the south-west of Tomkins. Teddy decided they'd start in the Lower East Side then work their way through Little Italy and Soho. Greenwich Village was last port of call. Easy peasy.

Or was it?

* * *

Well, as it turned out it wasn't so easy. Six hours later they were all back among the picnic tables, sitting in a circle, tired and dejected. On the other side of the bitumen path kids were running to and fro on the basketball courts, shouting and calling to each other; the Little Dog Run was full of small barking Dogs running in circles, chasing well-chewed tennis balls or digging holes, their landlords watching carefully; even the Big Dog Run was busy, a dusty plume in the air above. People were also beginning to stream home after work. The path was filled, everyone clutching shopping bags and suit coats. A lady in exercise wear and runners trotted past pushing a pram. A poodle trotted alongside, a puffball with attitude, its leash attached to the handle of the pram. A pile of groceries filled the tray under the baby seat.

Each squad provided a brief 'heads-up' on what they'd seen. It wasn't much. The Rats came across a robbery in progress on 21st Street, but after some initial excitement they saw that it was a jewellery store. And the perps were all wearing overalls and baseball caps. And they were human. No luck there.

The Pigeons watched a guy being mugged off Baker Street. They saw the police arriving, all strobing blue and white lights and howling sirens, the victim bleeding and screaming, the muggers spread-eagled against the bricks in the alley. It was exciting, but apart from that they saw nothing suspicious.

The Squirrels didn't have anything to report either, except that Terry had disgraced himself and disappeared halfway through the search. He found two uneaten Wendy's Baconators on the Bowery, and a complete Dairy Queen soft serve on the corner of 1st and 4th. Oh paradis! Percy gave him an earful, but Terry wasn't fussed. Food'll do that to you.

And the Dogs, after running the streets of the Lower East Side, Little Italy, Soho and Greenwich Village, had nothing to show except sore paws and a raging thirst. And they hadn't seen a single Scottie. It was a total bust!

The team sat around feeling sorry for themselves for quite a long time, everyone muttering and sipping water and scratching their heads. They all looked dusty and hot. The Pigeons started pecking in the dirt near the Little Dog Run. The Squirrels started to gnaw on nuts, until Graeme bit his tongue and started crying. The Rats sat in a row against one of the picnic tables. Rambo and Ike were leaning back with their arms folded. As usual, Rambo was complaining about the crowds. Ike was watching Graeme bawling. He shook his head and grimaced. Time to Squirrel up kid! Indeed! Charlene sat nearby re-doing her nails and frowning at Ike. Those toenails are disgusting!

The Dogs were sitting on the concrete near the edge of the path. Teddy and Milo were rubbing their chins, mulling over the situation. Perkie sat beside them humming softly, one paw extended, nail brush in the other. Every now and then she turned her paws around so that Charlene could see her nails. Charlene did the same. Oooohhhh!

Teddy looked up at Milo. "I have an idea."

Milo raised an eyebrow and twitched an ear. "And what idea would that be Oh Great One?"

Teddy rubbed his paws together. "Have you ever watched NCIS Miami?" Even though Teddy was speaking to Milo there was a chorus of nodding heads and rumbles of assent. "Well. In one episode, Horatio..." Teddy hesitated. "You remember Horatio?"

There was loud hiccup from Petunia. "He's so handsome" she trilled.

"Seriously?" grated Rambo. "Let's get with the story. What about Horatio?"

"Well" said Teddy, casting his eyes back and forth. "In one of the episodes Horatio and his team were trying to solve a series of robberies, so Horatio used a map. First he marked the map at the spots where the robberies took place. This gave him an outline of the whole area – the crime zone I guess - then he drew a line joining each robbery to all the other robberies. So he had a sort of spider-web of lines inside the crime zone. He targeted his search at the spot where the lines crossed in the middle of the zone - and bingo! – that's where he found the crooks."

There was a loud titter of excitement and several more hiccups from Petunia. Graeme burped. Everyone shifted closer to Teddy and Milo. Teddy continued, holding up one paw with a finger in the air.

"But" he said. "Horatio had seven crimes to deal with, so he had what professionals would say was many points of reference. We don't. We only have three crime points – Guzinszki's, Lillipilli Bakery, and Petsville – so we get only the zone, but no particular target area. But I think if we get a map of Manhattan and link the spots where the robberies took place, it might still give us some clues."

Milo nodded his huge head and rumbled. "That's a great idea T. And – just by the way - I have a map of Manhattan at home. Luckily I left it in the Doghouse under my rug so it'll only take me a few minutes to go and get it." With a quick nod to the team Milo trotted off.

"See you in ten."

* * *

It was more like twenty minutes by the time Milo returned. He carried a tatty roll of waxed paper, a pink texta pen, and a ruler. He dropped the paper on the concrete pad and he and Teddy unrolled it. The Rats grabbed some small rocks from the garden bed nearby and put one rock on each corner of the map to hold it flat. It was a map of the south part of Manhattan Island. With everyone leaning forward to watch, Teddy ran his paws across the greasy paper.

"Right. Here's Lillipilli, here's Guzinszki's, and here's Petsville." Using the texta pen Teddy marked each of the robbery sites, then he picked up the ruler and drew a line between each of the sites. When he was finished he had drawn a slightly crooked triangle on the map. Teddy tapped the centre of the triangle.

"We're lucky" he said. "The crime zone isn't very big." He pointed to the map. "I know it's a rough guess, but there, just north of Washington Square, around 6th and 9th, I think that's ground zero. I'm betting the culprits are somewhere close by this area."

"Ok" said Rambo. "No guarantees I guess, but that narrows it down. Let's make a plan." There was a lot of feather fluffing and tail swishing and a rumble of agreement. Everyone was suddenly ready to go. Terry even scrunched up his paper bag and threw it into the nearest garbage bin. This was better than a grid search. This was a small target. They could home in on 6th and 9th like guided missiles. But maybe not quite as fast.

Teddy pointed the target area around 6th and 9th. "I think we're on a winner here. Look where it is. Right next to the Jefferson Market Gardens, and across the road from the West Village gourmet market. And look at all the eateries nearby – Sammy's Noodle Bar, the Artisan's Bakery, Joe-Bob's Coffee, Starbucks, Kevin's Bar & Grill. Call it a smorgasbord. This is definitely 'Ground Zero' for foodies."

Milo nodded. "Yes, I note the logic Boss, but, as Rambo has pointed out, there are no guarantees. We can start there but if we don't find anything we'll have to spread the net a little wider."

"Agreed" said Teddy. "No guarantees, but let's see where Horatio takes us."

"Ok. So what's the SOP man?" rasped Ike. "Like we hit 'em en masse or we use a bit of finesse?"

"Finesse, my friend" said Milo. "We use finesse. Let's target the Market Gardens as the epicentre. We can come at it with three squads on the ground. Tthe Rats come from the south along 10th, the Dogs come from the north-east along 9th, and the Squirrels from the south-east along 6th. And we'll also have the airborne. The trick'll be in the timing. What do you think T?"

Graeme leaned over and whispered to Ernie. "What's an epicentre? Is that one of those fruit gummies? I love those." Ernie stared at Rambo with a glum look on his face. Rambo slowly closed his eyes and shook his head. Ike suddenly became interested in his thumb rings and started clacking them together. Charlene looked lightning bolts at all of them.

"That sounds perfect" said Teddy. "But we need to get the timing right, for a couple of reasons. First, we all need to arrive at the gardens at the same time. We need to have the area secured. If these guys spot us they'll do a runner quick as a flash. Second, what time do we go? When are these guys, or gals, likely to be out on the prowl?" He glanced at Percy and Petunia. "The Petsville heist went down at 4pm. What time did the other hits go down?"

Percy blinked a few times. "The Guzinszki heist was right after the lunch rush. Things were a little quiet. Apparently the perps came in through the back door while the chefs were taking a break. Round 3pm I think."

Petunia nodded and fluffed her wings. "Same for Lillipilli. They hit the joint mid-afternoon. Between the lunch rush and the going-home crowd."

Teddy rubbed his paws together. "Ok. So we're starting to get a feel for their MO. We know they wear balaclavas and we know they're targeting the mid to late afternoon period. Let's make sure we're moving through the gardens area between say 3pm and 5pm. If there's any action we'll have enough troops on the ground, and in the air, to pick it up. Everyone good with that?"

There were nods, rustles, chirps and coughs all round. Everyone was on board. But it was already after 5pm, so it meant any plans they had would have to wait until the next day. They decided they would meet at Tomkins at 2pm the following afternoon. This would allow plenty of time for each of the squads to converge on the Jefferson Market Gardens at 3pm. After checking the Gardens they could carry out a thorough search of the surrounding streets. The area was an old part of town, filled with dead end lanes and alleys, and narrow streets overhung with trees. The lighting was poor and there were many abandoned houses. It was the perfect place for a hideout.

"I've got a good feeling about this" rumbled Milo. "Let's hope we hit pay-dirt tomorrow."

* * *

The team bivouacked back in Tomkins just before 2pm the following day. It was a gloomy afternoon, with patchy rain and low clouds touching the tops of the buildings. It was still early but many of the streetlights were already glowing, forming wobbling blobs of gold and white in the damp air. After a short recap, and after synchronizing their watches, the team began to make its way towards the Jefferson Gardens.

"Remember, watch the time and move quickly. We need everyone at the Gardens before 3pm. Then we watch and wait. And try not to look too obvious. Don't loiter. Browse the markets and so on, but keep your eyes open."

The Pigeons took to the air while the rest of the team moved briskly along 10th Street. When they reached 5th Avenue the Squirrels and the Rats peeled off. They would move south west through Washington Park, with the Squirrels cutting right at 6th Avenue, and the Rats continuing on until they hit 10th Street on the other side of the Gardens. The Dogs continued straight ahead.

Milo and Teddy were pleased with the plan. It was a classic pincer move. If the perps were in the area and showed themselves, even if they didn't try to pull a job, it was going to be an easy collar. Teddy spat on his paw and rubbed his shoulder patch for good luck. "Fingers crossed Milo" he said.

It was almost 3pm when Teddy, Milo and Perkie reached the corner of 9th Street and 6th Avenue. To their right they could see the Rats moving around on the corner of 10th and Greenwich. And to the left they saw the Squirrels scamper across 6th towards the entry to the Market Gardens. Teddy gave some brief instructions to his colleagues. "Stay close by the front of the library, small groups, check everyone." Overhead he could see Percy and Petunia circling the Gardens. He couldn't see Pilsbury.

As they trotted along the sidewalk Teddy sniffed the many aromas - coffee, spices, cakes and breads, barbeque - it all smelled delicious and it made his tummy gurgle. He knew the team had a couple of weak links when it came to 'gourmet' opportunities. He hoped everyone could stay focused.

By 4pm things had gone quiet, the streets wet with rain, the day becoming even more gloomy. The Dogs were tired of walking back and forth in front of the library. Perkie refused to 'take one more step' and was sitting on the corner eating an Iced VoVo. "Where'd she get that from?" whined Graeme from the tree on the opposite corner. Milo told Perkie to put the Iced VoVo away and Ernie shushed Graeme. Everyone had to pay attention.

Meanwhile the Rats had done ten loops through the Market Gardens and some of the vendors were getting suspicious. "Time to regroup" said Rambo, leading his squad back across Greenwich.

The Squirrels were sitting in the trees on the corner of Greenwich and 6th. At least they appeared to be alert, though Terry was eating something, as usual, while Graeme sat on a nearby branch looking miffed. The Pigeons were nearby, Percy and Petunia sitting in the trees opposite Patchin Place, Pilsbury perched on a rooftop above the Market. Things were deathly quiet.

It was 4.30pm when the balloon went up.

* * *

It was Pilsbury, perched high on a chimney pot on the corner of Patchin Place and 10th street, who saw them coming. Patchin Place was a short, narrow dead-end of abandoned brownstones with boarded fronts, the walls layered with graffiti. The street, really no more than a lane, was so narrow that the trees overarched the road, creating a darkened tunnel under weak yellow streetlights, the cobbles uneven and broken and littered with trash. The shadows were black and menacing, the only sounds the drip of water, the creak of timbers, and the clanking of loose sheets of metal siding.

Pilsbury saw that the hoarding at the basement level of one the brownstones was moving slowly away from the wall. It was quite a long way from his perch but his eyes were sharp, and even in the dim light he could see a furry white paw gripping the edge of the hoarding. He felt a flutter in his tummy. Could this be one of the perps?

Pilsbury watched a small furry head come into view. A white haired Terrier, with long whiskers and furry ears, stepped from behind the hoarding. The Terrier was followed quickly by three more Dogs. Two of the Dogs appeared to be Collies, their long coats a meld of black and white. The fourth Dog was an orange/black/white Bulldog. The Bulldog was limping badly. All of the Dogs were wearing dark beanies. They milled around each other in a tight group for a moment then set off along Patchin, moving slowly across the cracked cobbles. Pilsbury knew immediately he should raise the alarm. He dropped off the chimney and glided silently towards the trees opposite, landing on the branch next to Percy and Petunia. "Perp alert" he gasped in excitement, and all heads turned to Patchin Place.

The Pigeons watched as the suspects paused at the corner of the street, bunching together and peering towards the Markets, then checking the streets on each side.

"Do you think it's the perps?" asked Pilsbury. Percy grunted but said nothing.

"I think it's them" said Pilsbury, answering his own question. "They look suspicious, and they're hiding out in the old tenement. It's them for sure."

Petunia was shaking with excitement. "I think it's them too. I know it is" she chirped.

The perps finally seemed to make a decision, and began to move slowly around the corner into 10th Avenue. The Terrier kept looking towards the Market, while the others turned their heads from side to side, checking for danger. But they made one big mistake. They didn't look up.

Percy grunted again. "They sure do look suspicious. I think we should get in the air and take a look. Then we alert the other squads." And then the Pigeons made their own big mistake. As they rose into the air the clapping of their wings alerted the perps. The wiry haired white Terrier stopped and looked up. All the Dogs stopped and looked up. Above them the Pigeons swirled, their heads down, their beady black eyes focused on the alarmed mutts below.

The Terrier let out a sharp bark. "It's da looer. Dey's on us. Run." And all four took off along 10th towards Greenwich. The Pigeons swooped to follow, but the perps hadn't run more than a few yards when they screeched to a halt. On the other corner, and coming towards them at full speed, was the Rat squad. Rambo and Ike were in the lead, with Charlene close behind. The perps were cornered. Well, almost.

With another sharp bark the Terrier spun round the corner into Greenwich Avenue and the perps fled along the side of the Market Gardens. Behind them the Pigeons swooped and cooed, while the Rats bundled along the sidewalk in a tight group. Except for Charlene. She was way behind. She was trying to run on three legs. She was carrying a bottle of nail polish in her other paw. "For Pete's sake" grated Rambo as he scampered along the kerb.

Meanwhile Teddy and Milo had been alerted by all the commotion. Teddy was too short to see over the top of the bushes along the kerb but Milo could see the action clearly.

"It's the perps" he said. "It has to be. The Pigeons and the Rats are after them. They're heading down Greenwich. If the Squirrels cut them off they might try for 9th. Let's get over there. We'll lose them if they make it to the corner before we do."

With several barks and a short scuffle the Dog squad scampered towards the corner of 9th Street. Ahead they could see the Squirrels running up Greenwich. They heard a shout from Ernie. "They're heading through the Gardens."

It was going to be close.

* * *

As Milo said later, 'It was always gonna come down to the numbers'.

"We had 'em beat" he said. "There's twelve of us in the TTDA. And there was only four of them. We were always going catch them." And that's what happened.

Everyone arrived at the corner of 9th street and 6th Avenue at the same time. The Dog squad was on one corner, the Squirrels on the other. The Rats were sitting at the side of the Market Gardens, the Pigeons circling above. In the middle of the street sat a small band of bedraggled canines, their fur dirty and scuffed, their nails grimy and uncut, their whiskers long and shaggy. Even their beanies had holes. They didn't look happy. They knew they'd been nabbed, but still they looked defiant.

Teddy and the team studied the perps. The Terrier was clearly the leader. He had a dark blue beanie and his paws were covered in long white hair. His coat was grimy and dull. Ike sidled over to Teddy. "He fits the profile man. Whadya reckon?" Teddy nodded.

The two Collies were tall and thin. Their black and white coats were dull and dirty. One had eyes of different colours, one black, one blue. The other had yellow eyes. Both sat silently, staring at the surrounding TTDA team. And both looked hungry. Beside them the Bulldog had flopped down onto the tarmac, drooling, his legs outstretched. His eyes were red, with thick folds of skin drooping over his eyelids. Like the others, his coat was dull and dusty. It was clear none of the perps had washed in a long time.

The Terrier spoke first. "Is youse da cops?"

"No" said Teddy. "We aren't. But we are the Tomkins Tap Detective Agency. We solve crimes."

The white haired Terrier looked around. "What? Youse is detectives? Youse ain't even humans. Youse is Dogs 'n Rats 'n Squirrels 'n stuff."

"Stuff?" Pils turned to Percy. He looked mortified. Percy shushed him. Petunia was silent. She wasn't really paying attention, being far too busy admiring Charlene's pashmina to take offence.

"True indeed" rumbled Milo. "But detectives nonetheless. And, on the face of it, apparently effective, as you can attest. More importantly however, who are you?"

"We's da Washin'tons. Name's Bennie. Da Collies is Jess 'n Pete. Da Bulldog's Dennis. We's hangs out down here."

"Yes. Thanks Bennie. We figured that" said Teddy. "By any chance have the Washingtons been involved in any incidents in the area?"

"Inceedents? What inceedents? We's keeps ta ourselfs."

"I was thinking about the recent incident at Petsville. And also earlier incidents at Guzinszki's Deli and the Lillipilli Bakery." As Teddy spoke Bennie began to shift from one foot to the other. The Collies, Jess and Pete, hung their heads. Dennis groaned and put one huge paw over his eyes. Not that it mattered. They were already hidden under the rolls of skin from his drooping forehead.

"I think you've hit a nerve T." Milo bent down to mutter quietly in Teddy's ear. "I believe we may have the culprits."

After a long silence Bennie stopped fidgeting and spoke. "Yeah, well, it ain't as if we's done nuttin' much. Just a few Kongs 'n fings. And yeah, we's wuz hungry. We's took a couple reubens 'n some cupcakes. So wotsit?"

"Well it's robbery, that's 'wotsit'. And you're lucky we found you and not the cops. They'd lock you up in a second. We, on the other hand, will try to help you."

This brought a murmur from the Collies and the Bulldog. Dennis took his paw off his eyes and stood up. The grubby gang clustered together and a muted conversation took place. After a minute or so they turned back towards Teddy and Milo.

"Yeah. We's done it. We's done 'em all. But we's wuz hungry.

"Don't you guys have landlords?" asked Perkie. "All Dogs have landlords. You wouldn't have to steal if you had a landlord."

"Rats don't have landlords" grated Ike, and nudged Rambo on the shoulder.

"That's right" said Rambo. "Only Dogs have landlords. Not us. We're self-sufficient." He nudged Ike back.

"Good one Rambo. That really helps." Milo was unimpressed, but the Squirrels and Pigeons and the Rats all tittered.

"Perkie's right. It's common sense" said Teddy. "Dogs always have landlords because they live inside. Rats and Squirrels and Pigeons live in the park." It didn't stop the tittering.

Bennie shook his head. "Nah. We's ain't got no landlords. An' we's ain't got nowhere ta live nivah. We's gotta doss down in da squats. It's all we's got."

This caused a stir in the Dog squad. Perkie turned to Teddy and Milo, who both looked troubled. "That's terrible" she said. "Everyone should have a landlord."

"That's for sure" grumbled Milo. "You can't have them on the street. Is isn't fair."

"What can we do for them T? Do you think we could find them a landlord?" Perkie was thinking ahead.

"I think we should take them down to the Animal Rescue HQ on 4th Avenue."

Milo rubbed his chin. "Good idea T. They look rough. I think Animal Rescue will clean them up and find them all a home quick smart."

Teddy looked at the dusty, bedraggled Washingtons. "We can take you down to Animal Rescue. Are you willing to come along? They'll find you a landlord before you know it."

"Animal Rescue! We's don't be needin' no rescue. No way!" barked Bennie.

"We know you don't" said Teddy. "But Animal Rescue can help. It's worth a shot. Hot food, hot bath, clean towels, warm bed...sounds good don't you think?"

The Washingtons fell silent, and milled about for a few moments. There was much grumbling and head shaking but eventually they seemed to reach an agreement. They all turned and looked at Teddy.

"Ok" rasped Bennie. "We's good. Let's go. Right guys?" The Collies and the Bulldog all nodded.

Graeme burped. Rambo flicked imaginary lint from his vest.

* * *

Two days later and the TDDA was meeting again in Tomkins Park. They were all very pleased with themselves. They had solved the case. And in double quick time too. Teddy thought everyone deserved a treat for the good work, so he brought along some Kongs for the Dogs, seeds for the Pigeons, nuts for the Squirrels, and some Beef Wellington and Toad in the 'ole for the Rats. He even threw in a round of cupcakes. Red velvet no less. And a key lime pie, a plate of cabbage and two mandarins. Everyone was delighted. Needless to say, there wasn't much talking going on.

It was a very happy turn of events for the Washingtons. Their life of crime was over and, luckily, they'd avoided the police. If it had been the cops who caught them it would have been off to the pound, quick smart. And the Pound is hard time. Dry biscuits and water. Every day. It didn't bear thinking about.

The people at Animal Rescue were very kind. All the Washingtons were bathed and brushed and then arrangements made to find each a landlord. As it turned out they all ended up living near each other in the same apartment block on Avenue B, right opposite Tomkins Park. Bennie and Dennis were taken in by a young couple on the 4th floor. And Jess and Pete went to live with a retired gentleman on the 7th.

While everyone was busy finishing off the treats Teddy turned to Milo. "Good result Milo?"

Milo nodded. "Yes indeed Oh Great Leader. I think we did good for the Washingtons, not to mention all those eateries that were at risk. I think we've stopped a veritable crime wave."

"And now they all have landlords. Did you see Jess and Pete this morning? Their coats were shining. They were walking with Mr. Simpson. He's their new landlord."

"I did indeed. And yesterday I saw Bennie and Dennis. Bennie had a new beanie and Dennis had a red and white t-shirt. Seriously. I think it's great."

"Me too" said Teddy. He looked at the TTDA team, all busy gnawing on Kongs or chomping their way through cupcakes and Beef Wellington. The air was filled with slurps, chirps and burps, and barks of appreciation.

Well thought Teddy. We've solved that one. Now, what's next?

# The mystery of the Scarlet Stiletto

Nearly a week had passed since the TTDA solved the Petsville heist. The Washingtons were safe and warm in their new digs, the burb was peaceful, and a massive crime wave had been averted, at least according to Milo. But it seemed that the rest of East Village and the surrounding suburbs were still a hotbed of criminal activity. And the word was out that the TTDA was in business and the cases were flooding in. There were even some applications for membership of the TTDA.

There was a major problem at the Williamsburg FoodFest – something about power outages and thefts of knishes and jerk chicken; the Scotties in Chinatown had a problem with scorched coats and burned whiskers, but the whys and wherefores were eluding everyone; there was something going on at the food truck on 8th and A – the grapes and pretzels were under attack; and, quelle horreur!, Teddy's landlord Anna had found one of her Scarlet Stilettos with its toe chewed off – at least that's what she said when she confronted Teddy with the evidence. But eating a Scarlet Stiletto? What? He had better taste. Everyone knew that. Teddy was outraged. His integrity had been impugned.

"Impugned eh?" asked Ike sarcastically. "Like, what's that mean? Umm, sort of like insulted maybe?"

"That's right" chirped Petunia. "It's when someone says you did something but you really didn't. You know." And they did. There was a burble of confirmation and much head shaking. Impugned indeed! Disgusting! That's what it was.

And there was more. There was a ghostly problem emerging in Greenwich Village – something about a Haunted Hound with glowing jaws and burning red eyes. This one sounded very interesting, and maybe just a bit scary.

There were just so many cases. Who was going to investigate what? And which case first? Should everyone be involved in each case? Or should they divvy up the work? That sounded sensible. But if they divvied up the work it was a certainty that things would get disorganized pretty quickly. The TTDA was barely a few weeks old and already it had more work than it could handle. The last thing anyone wanted was to have the Team's reputation trashed before it even got started. How could they maintain control? It was Perkie who came to the rescue.

Perkie was an organised Dog. She liked plans, and she loved keeping records. She made sure her Doghouse was always tidy, it even had curtains, and she wrote in her diary every day. Apart from her diary her other speciality was agendas and minutes, so she decided she would become the secretary of the TTDA. The team had a busy program of cases, and keeping proper records was essential. The first thing she did was to bring out her biro and notebook.

"Ok. First up, we're going to meet on a weekly basis, so let's get an agenda settled. I've already made a list of the cases that have come in. We can discuss those first. Then we can talk about the membership applications. And there'll be time for questions or other issues at the end. Maybe we should discuss an annual fee. It would be reasonable I think. Now, Teddy's the Chair, I'm the Secretary. Is everyone good with that?"

There were howls of anguish at the thought of an annual fee. An annual fee! That sounded like a terrible idea, but everyone was secretly pleased that Perkie was doing the paperwork. She was a wiz on the laptop, and would have the agenda and minutes out in no time. But an annual fee? Nyet, nix and nada, one hundred times over! It's bureaucracy gone mad.

* * *

The team quickly worked their way through the agenda. They decided the best approach would be to break into smaller teams. That way they could take on more cases. And if they had a meeting each week they could reassess and reallocate resources as needed. This would ensure they maintained control. With everyone in wild agreement, Teddy ran through the latest crop of crimes.

"Right" he said, running his paw down the agenda. "The Food Truck. I think that's a case for the Pigeons. Perce, is your squad up for it?"

"Sure is" said Percy. "We've already gathered intel and we have the place staked out. The truck's not far from Ray's. The mice there have been watching it for us. They'll bring us up to speed."

"Sounds good" said Teddy. "The Scorched Scotties. This one's a puzzle, Ernie. This is one for the Squirrels."

"Right on Boss" said Ernie. "We're on it."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"Zippo" said Ernie. "We heard a rumour about three crates of fireworks being stolen from a warehouse in Queens. But that's way over. It's not likely to be related, but we'll check."

"Do you have any contacts?"

"Not a one. We'll have to interview the Scotties, and you know how twitchy they can be. Last time I saw Douglas he was shaking both paws at me and going red in the face. And we were only picking nuts off the top of the oak. Sheesh!"

"Have could he tell that Douglas had a red face? The Scotties are really hairy." Graeme was frowning and whispering to Terry. Charlene gave Ike the 'death stare' before he could say anything, but he and Rambo looked at each other and grinned.

"Douglas is a good egg, just a bit precious sometimes" said Teddy. "Take a packet of shortbread biscuits. That'll be a winner."

"Yup. Will do" said Ernie.

Teddy turned to the Rats. "Now, Rambo, the FoodFest at Brooklyn Flea. Power outages, spoiled food, stock losses, theft of Snow Cones, knishes and, correct me here, jerk chicken? Sounds like a big one. Can the Rats handle it?"

Rambo looked pained. "Handle it? Is that a serious question Boss? Sort of like Are there sharks in the ocean?" All the Rats started to huff up.

"Yep, I get it. Sorry Rambo" said Teddy. "I wasn't thinking. I know your squad's terrific." This appeared to mollify the Rats.

Milo interrupted. "That leaves only the Scarlet Stiletto. Am I correct in assuming you wish to allocate that case to we, the Dog squad?"

"That's right Milo" said Teddy. "My landlord was premature. She accosted me with the evidence without warning. I need to clear my name."

Rambo looked at Ike and raised an eyebrow. Premature! Accosted! Ike sniggered. Milo saw the asides and spoke sternly to the pair.

"For the less erudite among us I suggest some time with a thesaurus. And maybe stop watching those terrible reality shows. It'll do wonders for your comprehension." Ike sniggered again. Rambo twiddled his thumbs. Charlene was holding out both paws, checking her fingernails. They matched her lipstick. She batted her eyes at Milo and wiggled her eyebrows. Milo stared at them all and sighed in exasperation.

"Ok, ok" said Teddy. "Everyone has their case now. It's time to get moving. We'll meet up here in a few days, same time, but if anything comes up while you're on the case and you need help then get in touch immediately." He turned to Perkie. "Did you get all that Perks?"

Perkie nodded. "Sure did T. I'll have the minutes ready later today."

"Right" said Teddy. "Let's get moving. Good luck everyone."

Teddy and Milo had decided to leave the Haunted Hound until last. They didn't like the sound of the case. It had glowing Dogs and missing puppies. That could get nasty. It was going to need all hands to the pump.

"First we get the other jobs sorted" said Teddy. "Then we can concentrate on the Hound."

"I agree Great Leader. I've always been mildly creeped out by Greenwich Village, and I always get lost in those streets. You know, how they change direction and all that? And now it has a ghost Dog. Just what I need. And I really hate it when there's puppies involved. I think we use the whole team for that one."

"A plan's a plan" barked Teddy as they ran off. "Let's rock and roll."

* * *

After the other squads headed off to investigate their assigned cases, the Dog squad trotted over to Williamsburg. Teddy explained that there were only two places where the Stilettos could be. They were either in the apartment - in the wardrobe or under the bed - or they were on Anna's feet. As far as Teddy was concerned the crime had almost certainly taken place inside the apartment. Because it involved the use of teeth. It would be pretty hard after all to chew on a shoe while it was on the owner's foot and not be detected. Wouldn't it? And given that the accusations had taken place early one morning before work, Teddy was pretty sure it that was a overnight job. Yep! The crime was definitely committed inside the apartment.

As they rode the subway to Williamsburg, Teddy told the other Dogs that they were lucky with the timing of their investigation, because Anna was away for the night. The best way to investigate a crime like this was a stake-out, and a stake-out was always best when there were fewer people around. Less confusion Milo. Yes, Oh Great One, much less confusion.

When they arrived at Teddy's building on North 7th, Teddy distracted the concierge while Milo and Perkie sidled in through the open doors. Then they all ran up the stairs to the 4th floor. Teddy opened up and everyone filed in. It was nearly 9pm.

Anna's apartment was small, barely a studio really. There was a modern L-shaped kitchen and a large bathroom, but the living area was a tiny combined bed/sitter. Anna had a queen-sized bed in the alcove, and a nice sofa and several plastic chairs along one wall. The adjoining wall was all windows, looking out onto North 7th. There was an air-conditioning unit at the base of the windows. Set against the wall opposite the sofa was a low white timber dresser with a flat screen TV on top. The wardrobe was built into the wall that backed onto the kitchen. Perkie nodded and hummed approvingly. "Nice digs".

After a quick recce to make sure the Stilettos were on the floor in the wardrobe and not out walking around with Anna, and that the wardrobe doors were open, even if only a few inches, they all squeezed in under Anna's bed. It was pretty tight, especially for Milo, but they managed to line up in a row, only their noses and whiskers visible. Everything was silent and, except for a twitch of whiskers every now and then, nothing was moving.

The hours ticked slowly by. Outside the streets became quiet, the only sounds the clip of high heels on the sidewalk as someone made their way home late, the low rumble of an exhaust and the swish of tyres as a car drifted by, or the strange tinny whining sounds that rang softly through the building when someone used the elevator. The city was settling down for the night. But in Apartment 4 at 247 North 7th there was no settling down. It was Game-On!

But time dragged. Every now and then there was a rustle as someone stretched or repositioned themselves. Several times Teddy found himself drifting off, but not for long. Milo nudged him each time.

"Stay awake T. We need all eyes open" he whispered. "What time is it anyhow? I feel like we've been here forever." Perkie yawned softly.

Teddy whispered back. "It's nearly 3am. We have been here forever. Let's wait till 4am. If there's no action by then I think we should all catch a few Zs."

"Double A Boss" whispered Perkie.

* * *

Time crawled. They had been crushed under the bed for so long that every minute now seemed interminable. It was as if time had slowed down. Teddy was sure that nothing was going to happen and was checking his watch – 3.55am – when there was a soft clatter from the corner near the air conditioner. They all froze.

Everyone held their breath as they stared into the darkness. The streetlights were casting golden bars across the walls but most of the apartment remained shrouded in deep shadow. For long moments there was silence, then a movement and a faint rustle near the far wall. The Dogs peered into the shadows. They couldn't see what was making the soft noises, not really, but they could see a dim movement at the base of the air conditioner. The slowly moving shadow was almost lost in the darkness, but when it reached the end of the air conditioning cabinet its silhouette was immediately visible against the windows.

"It's a mouse" whispered Perkie.

"Shush!" said Teddy, gently but urgently. "We don't want to scare them off."

The Dogs lay unmoving under the bed, their noses twitching, their whiskers quivering, their eyes glues to the tiny shadow as it moved across the bottom of the windows towards the dresser. They watched as it disappeared behind the dresser, its tiny claws scratching on the hard wooden floor. It was definitely heading towards the wardrobe. Teddy turned his head towards Perkie.

"Perkie," he whispered, "When the mouse goes into the wardrobe you run over and stand next to the air conditioner. That must be where he comes in. If you stand there it will block his escape. Milo, you're closest to the light switch. Hit the switch as soon as I call Go! then run over and guard the kitchen. Everyone get ready."

The mouse emerged from behind the dresser, a tiny dark patch in the shadows. As it stepped into the reflected glow of the streetlights the Dogs saw the mouse sit up and look around. They could see its whiskers twitching as it sniffed the air. It seemed to be wearing a beanie of some kind, with pom-poms on top. "It looks like a girl mouse" murmured Perkie, holding one paw to her mouth.

Finally the mouse began to move again, its claws tapping their way to the doors of the wardrobe. This was the signal to Teddy.

"Go!" he shouted.

The apartment was suddenly filled with light as Milo hit the switch. Perkie shot out from under the bed and rushed to the base of the air conditioner. The mouse let out a terrified squeal. Teddy wriggled out from under the bed and stood in the middle of the floor. Milo positioned himself near the kitchen. The mouse stood frozen beside the open door to the wardrobe. Its escape routes were all blocked. It was trapped.

The Dogs stared at the intruder.

* * *

It was a mouse. That was obvious. And it was a girl mouse too. That also was obvious. She had fluffy white/grey fur and was wearing a purple beanie with pink pom-poms. She also had tiny silver earrings and her nails were all painted blue.

"Oooohhhh!" breathed Perkie in awe.

But the mouse was very frightened. Her paws were shaking and she was trembling. Imagine if you were confronted suddenly with blinding lights and a giant hairy thing that looked like a Yeti. Milo wouldn't have been impressed with the comparison but that was what he looked like to the poor little mouse. Even Teddy looked enormous, and he's barely the same size as one of Milo's ears.

"Ok" said Teddy sternly. "Who are you? And how did you get into the apartment?"

The mouse trembled for another moment or two then spoke softly. "My name's Myrtle. I've been living behind the air conditioner. It's warm there."

"How did you get into the apartment?" Teddy repeated.

Myrtle sat down on the floor and folded her paws across her tummy. Perkie saw that she was wearing silver rings on her thumbs. "That's so cute."

"I was living in McCarren Park" said Myrtle. "But it was getting so cold at night I started looking for somewhere else to stay, somewhere that was warm and dry."

"But McCarren's a long way from here" said Teddy.

"Yes. But I couldn't find anywhere else. I tried lots of houses and apartments all the way along Roebling Street. But there were too many locks, and lots of unfriendly Dogs and Cats. It wasn't until I came to 247 that I found a way in."

"But why this apartment? We're on the 4th floor." Teddy was puzzled.

"Well. I came in through the basement, and I found a way in along the hot water pipes. I just followed them until I popped out in your air conditioner. It was warm in the cabinet and there was some old paper and stuff I could use as a bed. And I could smell food. It was so nice."

Teddy nodded. "Yes. My landlord's a good cook. Her name is Anna. She cooks lot's of eggs and cheese." The other Dogs moaned softly, then, as it didn't look like Myrtle was about to make a break for it, Perkie left her position near the air con and joined Milo and Teddy. They all took a seat on the floor and sat looking at Myrtle.

"Why were you hiding under the bed?" asked Myrtle. "Were you waiting for me?"

"We're part of the Tomkins Tap Detective Agency" said Milo. "We're investigating the mystery of the Scarlet Stiletto. Do you know anything about it?"

Myrtle suddenly looked embarrassed. She stared down at her paws, rubbing her fingers together. "Well...I guess that's the shoe. Right?"

"That's right" said Perkie. "Anna was very upset about the toe."

"I'm sorry about that" said Myrtle. "It smelled so good. I thought it must be food. I didn't realize it was a shoe until I tasted it." She shuddered and shook her head. "It tasted terrible."

"I'll bet" said Teddy. "But we need to let Anna know. As far as she's concerned, I'm the culprit. You'll have to fess up Myrtle."

"Will she be angry?" asked Myrtle in a shaky voice.

"I doubt it" said Teddy. "She's very forgiving. I think her main concern will be that you're warm and dry and have some nice food. Shoe toes aren't food. Not even if they come from a Scarlet Stiletto."

"Yes. The landlord will be nice" echoed Milo. "We need to make arrangements to meet with her. When's she back T?"

Teddy looked at his watch. "It's nearly 5am. She'll be at work all day today but she'll be home tonight. How about we all meet here again tonight, say 8pm? Does that suit you Myrtle? You can share dinner with us."

"Really?" trilled Myrtle, her pom-poms wobbling wildly as she clapped her paws together. "That would be so nice."

* * *

That evening they all sat down together in the apartment. Perkie and Milo were sitting on the floor in front of the dresser. Anna was sitting on the sofa with Teddy at her feet. Myrtle was leaning against the bottom of the air conditioner cabinet, right beside the narrow gap that she used as a door. Anna had cooked a lovely dinner of scrambled eggs with cheese, plus green beans and mashed potato. Everyone was full of food, and happy and content. Perkie looked like she was about to nod off. Even Milo looked sleepy. But no one could go to bed just yet. There was serious business to be discussed.

Anna looked at each member of the Dog squad, and also at Myrtle. "I'm pleased that we've solved the mystery of the Scarlet Stiletto. It was a real puzzle."

"I'm really sorry Anna" squeaked Myrtle. "I didn't know it was your shoe. It just smelled so good. But when I took a nibble it tasted really bad."

"Well Myrtle" said Anna. "I guess I really didn't like the Stilettos that much. They're very beautiful, but I've always found the heels just a little too high for me."

"Can they be repaired?" asked Perkie.

Anna nodded. "Yes, of course. I've already put them in at the shoe repair shop. The man there said that he'll have them as good as new in two days."

Teddy was puzzled. "But if you don't really like them then why are you having them repaired?"

"Good question T" said Milo.

"I'm going to drop them off at the Op Store on Bedford. I'm sure someone else will find them comfortable. And I can't drop them off with a toe missing."

Myrtle hung her head again. Even her pom-poms were drooping.

"Don't worry at all Myrtle. It's all worked out fine. The important thing is we have some house rules now that you're going to be staying in the air conditioner."

Myrtle clapped her paws in joy. "I can stay?" she squeaked loudly. Perkie and Milo clapped too.

"Yes. I'd love you to stay. Now that there's three of us we'll have a full house, but it will work fine. We'll just need to have some rules around meal times, bath times, and bed times." Anna stopped and looked at Teddy, then back to Myrtle. "Are you all ok with that?"

Everyone nodded.

"Ok then. Whatever we cook we share. But Wednesday and Saturday nights are treat nights – Kongs and Greenies for Teddy; cheese, dill pickle and crackers for Myrtle. Sound good?"

Was that a trick question? Of course it sounded good! But there was still bath-time and bedtime.

"Now, bath-time. You'll all have a bath every night. Yes, you heard me correctly, every night." Both Teddy and Myrtle were horrified. Every night? Oh no! Perkie and Milo started sniggering. Anna spoke to them sternly.

"You shouldn't laugh" she said. "I'll be speaking with your landlords later this week and I'll be telling them about our house rules. Maybe they'll adopt them."

Perkie's and Milo's faces fell. They looked as horrified as Teddy and Myrtle.

"Oh come on" said Anna. "You'll feel so much better. Perkie and Myrtle can do their nails every night and Milo and Teddy will have clean ears and toes. It's a win-win for everyone."

No one seemed convinced about the new rules but Anna was relentless. "Finally, bedtimes. Everyone in bed by 10pm, except on Friday and Saturday nights. You can stay up until midnight and read or watch TV. And 6.30am is wake-up time. If you wake up earlier and want to get up then you have to be quiet."

That all seemed fine. In fact, Teddy liked sleeping in until 8am. And he was pretty sure Myrtle wouldn't be an early riser. So 6.30am wasn't going to be a problem. After Perkie and Milo headed home, Perkie with the promise that she'd have the case written up by the following afternoon, Teddy crawled under the bed into his blankets. Myrtle rolled up near the air conditioner with her head on her paws. Anna was sitting on the sofa, watching a series on Netflix. Something about a lake and boats and drugs and lots of crooks with guns.

As he watched the TV Teddy thought about the case. Another one solved. And in only a couple of days. And he had a new flat mate as well. Teddy was pleased that Myrtle was staying. She seemed like a pretty neat mouse. Anna thought she was very cute, and Milo and Perkie really liked her.

We're batting two for two he thought to himself. But he wondered how the Rats were handling the Foodfest meltdown; and if the Pigeons had wrapped up the food truck on 8th; and maybe whether the Squirrels had hosed down the problem of the Scorched Scotties. The excitement was building in his chest. Teddy Roosevelt, Dog Detective. He was born for this. Anna was right. It was a win-win all round.

# The food truck at 8th and A

It was two days later that the TTDA reconvened in Tomkins Park. It was a lovely afternoon, though the weather was cooling and the days were short. The team met in the usual place among the picnic tables near the Little Dog Run. Both the Dog Runs were full and the basketball courts were in full cry, the pock of the balls on the court and their crashes against the backboards mixed with shouts of delight and shrieks of mock outrage. Down along the middle path some workers from City Hall were just closing up shop in the amenities block, the sounds of the lawn mowers and leaf blowers finally fading away, the doors rattling as they swung shut. There was a clatter of trash cans as the workers moved off.

As always the TTDA team sat in a circle, the Dogs near the path, the Rats opposite. To each side sat the Squirrels and the Pigeons. Teddy sat between Milo and Perkie. Perkie had finished the agenda as promised and handed a copy to everyone. She held a blue pen in one paw, a notebook in the other. Teddy noticed that she had painted her nails a brilliant orange. And she was wearing a Carmen Miranda hat. Teddy looked at it again. Nope. It's not a hat. It's a turban he thought to himself. But with fruit? No way Jose!

"Ok" Teddy clapped his paws together and looked around at the team. "I'm hearing good news all round" he said. "All cases solved. That's absolutely outstanding, and we'll hear about them in a moment. Meantime, to celebrate, I've brought along the usual treats – cupcakes, Kongs, nuts, Beef Wellington and Iced VoVos."

There were barks, chirps, growls and squeaks of delight. For several minutes the only sounds that could be heard were the crunch of nuts and seeds and chomps, gulps and slurps as cupcakes, Kongs and Beef Wellington were consumed.

As everyone munched on their treats, Teddy and Milo filled them in on the mystery of the Scarlet Stiletto. Teddy called it a debrief. Petunia and Charlene were delighted to hear about Myrtle.

"About time" said Charlene. "We need some gender balance around here."

Needless to say this brought quizzical looks from Rambo and Ike but they were too busy with their cupcakes to bother responding. Graeme stopped chewing for a second.

"What's a gender balance? Is it something from the gym?" Charlene and Petunia made faces at each other, their mouths open in feigned horror.

But a shiver of true horror ran through the team when Teddy mentioned the house rules. "No doubt about it" croaked Rambo. "That'll put a dampener on things." There was much nodding of heads and groans of woe. Teddy pressed on.

"Percy. How about you run us through what happened at the food truck. Sounds like it went off smoothly."

Percy rubbed his spectacles with the edge of one wing as he finished off some seeds. "Ok, so everyone's familiar with the case. The food truck at 8th and A was in big trouble. It's run by those two fellows from down Coney Island, Juan and Jorge. Good guys, always generous, but they had a problem. You know how it is, being cold weather and all, they don't lock up each night. They have a tarp rolled up on top of the truck and when it's time to close up they just roll it down and tie it off. They thought it was secure. And it was. For a long time. But not now. The grapes and pretzels were going missing. And lots more were left broken and chewed up. It was real messy. That's why Juan and Jorge came to the TTDA. They knew we were busy, but they'd heard we were good, and they wanted the best. And this case was a doozy."

"I've got a doozy on my bed" said Graeme. Ike looked down his nose at Graeme, then glanced at Rambo and tapped the side of his head with his paw. Charlene stopped painting her nails for a moment and glared at him.

"That's terrible" she said. Ike shrugged and avoided eye contact. Rambo grinned and sniggered.

Percy continued. "We were lucky. The truck is near the corner of 8th and A, right opposite Ray's. We asked Max and Daisy to stake it out for us."

"Who are Max and Daisy?" asked Teddy.

"They're the mice at Ray's. They live under the cool room. Great in summer apparently but a bit chilly in winter. Max said they're moving upstairs in November, you know, nearer to the water heater."

"That's very interesting Perce" grumbled Milo. "But what about the case?"

"Well first thing we did was head down to Ray's and talk to the mice. They told us they'd been up for three nights watching the food truck. The perps hit the truck twice \- once on the second night and once on the third. There were three perps. They came down the side of the truck and slipped the knots at the bottom of the tarp. That's how they were able to get inside."

"But who are they?" asked Ernie, shaking his bushy tail.

"Well the mice couldn't see clearly, 'cause it was too dark. Daisy said they seemed to come from the top of the truck, not from the bottom. But neither she nor Max could see them clearly. They looked just like black blobs. It's those streetlights down there, those yellow sodium ones. You know the ones, you can sort of see but really you can't. Everything's yellow and black." Percy shook his head, his beady eyes rolling. "I'll never work humans out." There was much rumbling and knowing grunts and chirps. Humans! Seriously!

"So we decided we'd do a stake-out ourselves. We decided to use the awning over Ray's front door, the red and gold one. It has a great gutter at the front so we bunkered down in there. It was still a bit muddy but it was ok. And we had a perfect view of the food truck."

A whispered squeak sounded. "Are there any red velvet cupcakes left?" No kidding? Who might that be? Ike looked over at Graeme and made a gun sign. Charlene glowered and shook her head.

"Food's done" said Teddy sternly. "Let's stay on course here. Perce, let's get to the point. What happened next?"

"We hung out in the awning for hours. It must have been nearly 1am and still no action. Then, just before 2am, we saw the branches on the tree over the top of the food truck start to bend and wobble. And before we could blink, the perps were on top of the truck. But we couldn't see who they were. Those lights are awful. Anyhow, we watched them crawl down the side of the truck to the spot where the tarp was tied up. After a minute or so they opened the flap of the tarp and disappeared inside. That was our cue. We grabbed our torches and feathered down to the sidewalk next to the truck. Max and Daisy were watching from the window of Ray's and they joined us." By this time the whole team was gathered closely, listening with rapt attention, including Graeme. Charlene had even stopped doing her nails.

"We crept over to the opening in the tarp and looked inside. But it was too dark. So we lifted up the flap of the tarp and crawled in. We couldn't see anything, but we could hear the perps chattering and scratching around. Petunia and Max and Daisy guarded the flap while Pils and I moved further inside. The perps couldn't hear us. They were making so much noise eating. Half chewed grapes and pieces of pretzel were raining down on us. That's it I whispered to Pils, let's hit 'em with the torches, and we switched on."

"Who was it?" squeaked Terry.

"It was three Fruit Bats."

"Fruit Bats!" blurted Teddy. "On Tomkins? Don't they all hang out over in Brooklyn, near Prospect Park?"

Percy nodded and adjusted his spectacles. "They sure do. They usually feast on all the bugs and grubs and things around the Prospect Pond. But sometimes, you know, when it's a bit cold, they come across to Manhattan. There's not so many bugs around when it's cold. But let me tell you what happened then. Their cheeks were bulging with food and they were stuffing their pockets with pretzels. But we caught 'em red-handed. They knew they were trapped and they froze, because Petunia and the mice were guarding the only way out. Then Pils pointed his torch at them and yelled Stick 'em up! They didn't say anything for a few seconds then one of them said That's not a gun. That's a torch."

Ike looked at Pilsbury. "Good one Duke. I told you to stop watching Gunsmoke. Daytime television'll rot your brain." Pilsbury looked wounded. Charlene glowered.

"What gun?" asked Graeme.

"Ok, ok, I got it" said Percy. "Back on track here. So we had the perps cornered. Three big Fruit Bats. First thing we asked was who they were. The largest one was called Cyril. He was wearing a black and white striped jumper and a black beanie. He was clearly in charge. Both of his accomplices – Rambo nudged Ike – accomplices! – wore grey hoodies. One was called Mikey and the other was called Sheila. Sheila had red lipstick and long gold earrings. And she was wearing a gold ring with an emerald on her right claw." Petunia and Charlene tut-tutted approvingly.

"So next thing we ask is where they came from, and why they were hitting the food truck. Cyril did most of the talking. He said that they lived in Prospect Park in Brooklyn. He said it's a nice place to live – lots of trees, good shelter, lots of gardens. Lots of gardens means lots of bugs – usually – but City Hall has been fixing up the gardens so all the bugs have moved out to Coney Island. Cyril said that it was closer to come over to Tomkins. He said they came across the food truck almost by accident. It was too good to pass up."

"Well Juan and Jorge might not agree with that. It is their food truck after all, and their grapes and pretzels."

"Cyril said that they didn't really eat that much. And he was sorry that they made such a mess. Mikey admitted that he was responsible for all the chewed grapes, but not the pretzels. That was Sheila he said. Sheila would fly all the way to the Hamptons if there were free pretzels or chips."

"Did you call Juan and Jorge?" asked Teddy. "What did they think?"

Percy rubbed his wings together. Pilsbury and Petunia nodded eagerly, their beaks bobbing up and down, their beady black eyes gleaming. "They were great" chirped Pilsbury.

"They sure were" said Percy. "They came over straight away and we all crowded in under the tarp. Juan told the Fruit Bats that he was disappointed that they broke into the truck. He said they should have just asked for some grapes and pretzels. He and Jorge would be more than happy to share. I've gotta say, the Bats looked pretty ashamed."

"What's a shamed?" asked Graeme.

Rambo turned his head slowly to Ike. "Is he, like, for real?"

Ike didn't answer. He could feel Charlene's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.

"But can we close the case?" asked Teddy. "Has everything been resolved?"

"Right on Boss" chirped Percy. "We can close the case. Juan and Jorge said they would leave out a plate of grapes and pretzels each night. The Bats were delighted. Cyril said they'll share the grapes and pretzels with the other Bats from Prospect, and in return they'll watch over the truck and make sure that no other Bats – or Rats or Squirrels or anyone else – tries to break in. It'll be like a...mmm...like a permanent stake-out. And Max and Daisy are pleased too because they'll have some company. They're going to visit with the Bats sometimes. Maybe take over some deep-fried Oreos or beignets. When Daisy told them about the Oreos the Bats were over the moon." There was a chorus of moans and sighs. Graeme burped.

Teddy slapped his paws together. "Great outcome Perce, and well done Pils and Petunia. And a big thanks also to Max and Daisy." Teddy turned to Perkie. "Did you get all of that for the minutes Perks?"

"Yep. Tip top." said Perkie.

Teddy checked his watch. The afternoon had flown. It was almost 6pm and the paths in Tomkins were filling with people heading home from work. The basketball courts were busy, echoing with shouts of the players and the crash of basketballs on backboards. The Little Dog Run was crowded with landlords and little Dogs, and the Big Dog Run was lost in a cloud of dust as a pack of large Dogs chased tennis balls across the gravel. Teddy glanced at Rambo and tapped his watch.

"Right. Let's move on. Splinter! How's about you fill us in on the meltdown at the Foodfest? And Ern, after Splinter's finished, you can run us through what happened with the Scorched Scotties."

# Wiped out in Williamsburg

While the Pigeons were solving the fiasco at the food truck on 8th the Rats had made their to Williamsburg. They were there to solve the problem at the Williamsburg Flea Market FoodFest.

The Williamsburg Flea is famous. It's open every Sunday, close by the south side of the Williamsburg Bridge. It's right in the heart of Brooklyn and has hundreds of stalls selling furniture, food, clothing, jewellery and arts and crafts. It's the Go-To place for locals and tourists alike. But it doesn't stop there. The Flea also operates a food market called the FoodFest.

The FoodFest is also located in Williamsburg, only a few blocks north of the Flea on Nth 7th Street and right on the edge of the East River. Like it's big sister the Flea, the FoodFest has loads of vendors. They sell food and drink from all over the world. There are burgers and fries, jerk chicken and knishes, pancakes and ice-cream, hot dogs and plantains, sushi and dumplings, and gelato, reubens, borscht and noodles - to name only a few. And a thousand different drinks – soft drinks, smoothies, coffees, teas, juices, milkshakes and sherbets. It's a foodie's heaven. And Williamsburg is full of foodie hipsters. They flock to the FoodFest in droves. And the stallholders make out like bandits. So everyone's happy. Mostly.

It's a long day for the vendors at FoodFest. They open for business before 8am and close up around 6pm. It's a busy ten hours of hard work. Sometimes the crowds are so heavy that the vendors work non-stop – mixing, baking, frying, grilling, saucing, blending, wrapping – from sunrise to sundown. It's absolutely exhausting. Everything needs to go smoothly, otherwise it can quickly turn into a disaster. And, of course, this had already happened.

On each of the last three Sundays the FoodFest had suffered a power failure. Deep friers, hot plates, mixers and chillers all stopped working. Food wasn't being cooked and sold. Cash wasn't changing hands. Food in chillers and refrigerators began to warm up. The crowds were ready to riot. And each time it happened it was almost a catastrophe. And it happened twice each day. The stallholders panicked.

It was only the hard work of the maintenance team that fixed the problem each time it occurred. They found that the mains connectors to the power grid had come unplugged. At least that's what they thought occurred on the first occasion. And the second. And even the third. But when it happened a fourth time they became suspicious. And so someone kept watch on the mains connector. And then it happened a fifth time. But this time it wasn't the mains connector that went down. This time the power splitter near the front gate had all its plugs detached. All the plugs? they asked. How was this possible?

The maintenance team now knew for sure that someone was interfering with the power supply. There were troublemakers out there. Somewhere. And then the reports began to come in from the vendors. Not only was the power being turned off, but food was disappearing. And it was always the same thing. It was always knishes and jerk chicken. Every time. And it always happened just after each power outage.

The management team at FoodFest knew they had a problem. It was obvious that the power outages were a distraction and that the real target was the food. But who was stealing it? And how did they do it? Where did they come from? And why was it always the same food? The vendors selling the knishes and the jerk chicken said that they were starting to become a little 'gun shy', and that they might have to start putting sandbags around their stalls so that they could protect their food if the power went off. Or even closing down theirs stalls altogether.

Now the last thing that FoodFest management wanted was that the place be sandbagged like an Afghan firebase or for any of the stalls to close. This would only upset the hipsters, and when the hipsters were upset they sulked, and when they sulked they stayed away. Management needed the crime – and they were sure now that it was a crime – to be solved as soon as possible. The hipsters of Williamsburg were depending on them, and so were the vendors. That's when they went to the experts. That's when they called in the TTDA.

* * *

"I really hate crowds" grumbled Rambo as he and Ike and Charlene scampered along the girders under the Williamsburg Bridge. Above them they could hear the roar of traffic and the heavy rumble as a train rattled by. Below them the East River ran brown and dark, its surface dimpled with rolling whirls and streaks of dirty foam.

"How much further?" whined Charlene. "My nails are getting chipped."

"We're nearly there" said Rambo. "Only another mile or so. We're nearly at the end of the bridge and then it's down onto Kent and straight up to East River Park. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"It just seems so far." puffed Charlene.

The Rats soon came to a major pylon on the Brooklyn side of the bridge and rapidly followed the crisscross girders down to the road. A few minutes later they were standing in a small huddle on a low rise in a grassy lot on the edge of the East River, looking down across North 7th Street to the FoodFest. It wasn't even 8am, the official kick-off time, but already the FoodFest was buzzing.

They sat in the grass and watched the swelling crowds for a long time. The FoodFest and the streets nearby were becoming increasingly crowded. Rambo shook his head. It was going to be too difficult to stake out a site like this. First off, the site was too big. Second, there were too many people, with more coming. And third, it was impossible to move around quickly in the large crowds. If they were going to solve this case they were going to have to think quickly. And think smart. Rambo scratched his head. He turned to Ike and Charlene and handed each one a red plastic whistle. Each whistle was attached to a short green nylon lanyard.

"Ok. This is going to be more difficult than I expected. The place is larger than I remembered and it's also a lot more crowded, so put these on. If we're separated and anything happens, use the whistle. Whatever we're doing, if we hear the whistle, we respond. Got it?" There was a grunt from Ike and a nod from Charlene.

"Good. Now we're gonna have to do some hard thinking to solve this. Take a look at their security. The guards are still posted at the corners of the FoodFest and the front gate. After six robberies they've learned nothing. The perps are getting under their defences, so they should be looking outside the park. That's where the weakness is. We were supposed to liaise with the security team as soon as we arrived but I can see straight away that it's pointless. We'll have to go it alone. So let's recap first on what we know, and apply that to what we see. We'll do it by the numbers." Ike and Charlene nodded again and edged closer. Rambo shook his head again as he contemplated the FoodFest security detail, then he continued.

"The FoodFest has been hit six times in three weeks, twice each on three separate days. And every time there's been a robbery, there's been a power outage. The market draws its power from the Manhattan grid. The power comes across on the underwater cables and feeds into the Williamsburg mains connector at the edge of the river. The mains cables run through tunnels under North 7th, right through Williamsburg and up into Bushwick. This is the only source of power for all of Williamsburg, Bushwick and Green Point. You with me?" Ike and Charlene nodded. Rambo continued.

"Like most users, larger ones anyway, the market takes its power off at a splitter board. In this case the board is just inside the front gate, which is on North 7th maybe two hundred yards from the river. Market management says that sometimes it's the mains connector on the riverside that's gone down, sometimes it's the splitter board at the main gate, sometimes it's both. Apart from it happening twice each day there's no other pattern. They've checked and rechecked both the connector and the splitter board. No problems with either one, both solid. Now management is certain that someone's tampering with the power."

"And this is just so they can steal food?" asked Charlene. "Seriously? It all sounds too complicated just to steal knishes and bagels and stuff."

Ike grunted and nodded. "I agree. That's a lotta hooey for takeaway. And it's knishes and jerk chicken by the way."

Rambo grunted and pulled at his pigtail. "It does seem a bit much. Maybe there's more to it than that." He held out his right paw and grasped his right thumb with his left paw. "Bear with me here." As he made each point Rambo grasped a claw on his right paw, using each one to illustrate his point until he ran out of claws. Then he changed to his left paw.

"Point one: incidents have been twice a day – early morning and straight after lunch. Point two: the hit always occur when the markets are full. Point three: this is a question – how are they (whoever they are?) getting into the FoodFest? Point four: how come no one has seen them, or even seen anything suspicious? Point five: it's always the Kosher and the Carribean stalls that are hit. Why is it always the same food?" Point six: who are they?"

"Maybe they got no imagination" rasped Ike. "Like Igor used to say on the Murmask run – net voobrazheniya!"

"Yeah" laughed Rambo. "Man, those were the days eh? How cold was it?"

"Crikey! Cold! That's not the word for it chelovek. Brrr!"

"Guys." Charlene butted in. "I know you love to reminisce but we're on a job. And we're in New York by the way, we're not in Russia."

Rambo and Ike cackled and slapped paws but returned immediately to the task in hand. "Ok, back to business. Let's go through my points." Rambo grasped his right thumb again.

"Point one: why are they stealing the food? There's two possible scenarios. They're either stockpiling food – for reasons unknown - or they're simply opportunists. Given the fact that the thefts have occurred a number of times it's my guess is they're stockpiling. Now I can think of only two reasons why they'd be doing this; one would be to feed a large group, the other would be to sell or trade the food. Problem is the food is fresh and highly perishable, so I go with the large group. In which case we might be looking at a family situation, somewhere close by, or in a worst case, a gang arrangement. Ask yourselves the questions – who and where? Look around. Seagulls, Terns, Pigeons, Seals, Snapping Turtles, Fruit Bats, Rats, Dogs, other humans? There's a lotta suspects out there. But hold those thoughts. There are other aspects to consider."

Rambo grasped his second claw, the first being somewhere on the bottom of Kola Bay, about thirty kilometres north of Murmansk. He contemplated the stump for a moment. It still ached sometimes. He wiggled it a couple of times then shrugged and continued. "Point two: and this is a key issue. How are the perps getting into the markets, turning off the power, stealing the goods, and getting out without being seen? Depending on who the perps are, they could probably blend with the crowds on the way in. But could they pull the power and the goods and escape without notice? Unlikely, but not impossible. But there's a way in that I can think of that allows the perps to pull this off, and that's underground. I think they're probably coming in through the utilities tunnels that run under the burb. Think on this as well. It might be a lead on who the perps are."

"I'm starting to get confused" said Charlene.

"No probs" said Rambo. "Just listen up. It'll become clearer as we look at all the angles." He grasped a third claw.

"Point three: how come no one has seen these guys before, during or after the robberies? Note \- this supports my thinking on point two. It suggests they're coming in under cover or, in this case, underground. Therefore, if my thinking's right, we're looking at non-human perps. The tunnels are huge but they aren't wide enough for humans, so these guys must be about our size. That's the only way they're gonna to fit into the tunnels. And that rules out all the Birds and the Bats. That leaves only Dogs or Rats. My tip? It's most likely Rats."

"But we know all the Rats in Williamsburg. We would have heard about this through the regular intel" said Ike.

"Correct" said Rambo. "But you're talking about the suburban rat. No disrespect here but that's us. Good old garden variety suburban rat."

"I feel impugned" moaned Charlene, but then she smiled. "Just kidding. I'm ok with 'garden variety'."

"Fine" said Rambo. "But what about Water Rats? This setup is a literally a 'steal' for those guys. The tunnels run from the river – literally from their front door – straight into the FoodFest. Look over there." Rambo pointed towards the North Williamsburg ferry pier. "Look at that. That pier has hundreds of pilings and must have hundreds of cubby-holes for Water Rats. And the groins running off 4th and 5th Streets? There could be a thousand Rats in there."

"Man! We might be outnumbered. Is this gonna be dangerous?" asked Ike. "Do we need reinforcements?" He started slapping his thumb rings together.

"I'm not finished" said Rambo, changing paws. "Point four: why only kosher and carribean food? I have no answer to this one. You guys have any ideas?"

"Nope" said Charlene.

"Nyet" grunted Ike. "Maybe it's just a smokescreen. Or maybe simply convenience."

"Hmm" mused Rambo. "I tend to agree. I don't think the type of food is the key issue. They probably grab whatever's easiest. Now, point five: who are they? Well, I think we've probably answered that question but we need to confirm. And we'll do that by catching them in the act."

"How are we going to do that?" asked Charlene. But before Rambo could respond, Charlene's question was answered in the best possible way.

* * *

Just then there was a huge uproar at the main gate. The Rats watched as the security guards rushed towards the gate from their various vantage points at the corners of the site. Several stall-holders also came out through the front gate and stood on the sidewalk waving their arms about. The stall-holders and the security guards mixed together in a swirling mass with much arm waving and finger pointing. Around them the crowds churned.

"Take a look at that" growled Rambo. "What a schemozzle! Have these guys learnt nothing? Yet again they've allowed themselves to be distracted. No prizes for guessing what's happening right now?"

"Right now I reckon the perps are filling their sacks with knishes and chicken and bagels or whatever. For sure!" said Ike. "Unless it's a setup of course."

"It's not a setup. That melee is real. They've been hit six times and still they run around in circles. But this is our chance. We need to move quickly if we're gonna solve this case." Rambo pointed towards the ferry pier. "Charlene. Could you head over there and watch all the pipes and tunnel exits near the pier. Ike, you shoot down to the end of 7th Street. Same thing. Keep an eye on all possible entry/exit points along the sea wall. I'll do the same thing up near 8th Street."

Rambo glanced at his watch. He was wearing a very large U-Boat. It was as big as his head.

"We only have a minute or so. The perps will already be on their way out. Move it. And keep your whistle handy."

While Charlene and Ike scampered over to the edge of the river, Rambo ran along a narrow path that led from the grassy verge to the other side of the market. He ran to the edge of the sea wall. The sea wall was made of large rough-cut blocks of stone, the lower ones heavily eroded by the tides. Each stone was coated in slime and grease and mud and weeds and layered with small shells and barnacles. Rambo climbed down the wall until he reached an oily ledge only a foot or two above the surface of the river. Below him the river swirled by, the colour of chocolate, its surface laced with colourful rainbow curls of oil and grease. Clots of yellow foam and twigs and leaves floated by. Further out Rambo could see a long piece of timber bobbing as the current carried it towards the sea.

Rambo checked that Charlene and Ike were in position, both perched about halfway down the side of the sea wall. He could see several large pipes that jutted from the sea wall near Charlene, and one close by where Ike was sitting. He gave them the thumbs up and they responded.

Two large concrete pipes also sprouted from the sea wall only a few feet from Rambo's perch. Several smaller metal pipes and two large rubber-like conduits ran from the edge of the river into the large pipes. All were slimy with weed and encrusted with barnacles and oysters. Rambo figured the rubber conduits for the power or phone cables that joined Brooklyn to Manhattan. He had no idea what the metal pipes were for. Not that it mattered. He wasn't worried about these. His focus was on the land-side concrete pipes. It was these that the perps would be using.

Rambo shifted closer to the outlets, gingerly tip-toeing across the oily rocks. When he came to the opening of the first large pipe he grasped the edge and looked inside. The pipes were enormous, more than a metre wide. They looked large enough to double as a subway tunnel. A long streamer of slime coated the bottom of each pipe and a steady stream of water trickled out, falling onto the greasy rocks below. About two yards inside each pipe there was a rusty grate. Rambo figured the grates had a dual purpose. One was to keep people and animals out, the other was to trap garbage and stop it from being washed into the river. The grates were hung with shredded plastic bags, greasy food cartons, sodden pizza boxes, assorted leaves and branches, several rusted soft drink cans, and what looked like pieces of dry wall. It was a slimy mess. The pipes were long overdue for a clean out.

But when he looked inside the second pipe Rambo felt a thrill of excitement. He could see that the grate had been moved. He could see a scrape on the cement where the grate had been dragged aside then repositioned, and the sides of the pipe were covered in wet paw prints. He had no doubt about it. This was where the perps came in.

* * *

Rambo sounded his whistle to alert Ike and Charlene. At the sound of the whistle they came scampering along the sea wall. They clustered together in the opening of the large pipe. Rambo pointed to the paw prints and the grate.

"Someone's come through here in the last hour or so. You can see that the grate's been moved, and the paw prints are still wet. Did you see anything in the other pipes?"

"Nothin's been disturbed over there Boss. The grates are clogged with rubbish." Ike's voice echoed in the pipe.

"Ditto" squeaked Charlene. "No one's been in these pipes for years. I really don't know what City Hall does with all our taxes."

Ike wrinkled his nose and twitched his whiskers. He started tapping his thumb rings together. "You don't pay taxes Charlene. We're off the grid."

"Well, you know. I'm just saying. Metaphorically speaking and so on."

"Metaphorically speaking? We're talkin' about water pipes for Pete's sake."

Rambo stepped in. Sometimes he thought the whole of the TTDA was too easily distracted. Then he shrugged. He knew he was just as bad as the rest of the group.

"Alright guys, let's focus. This is where the perps came in. And they're still inside. There's no way they've had time to escape."

"Same way in as out? Maybe they're smarter than that" said Ike.

Rambo shook his head. "Speed matters. These guys are gonna get in and out as quickly as they can." He glanced at his U-Boat. "Two minutes since the balloon went up. They'll be close."

Even as Rambo spoke a clatter echoed down the pipe. Rambo pushed his nose up against the grate. In darkness he saw a faint flicker of light and the whisper of voices and the slap of feet in water.

"It's the perps" he said. "They're coming. Get back behind the edges of the pipe. We can't let 'em see us. We'll jump 'em when they come out."

The Rats quickly shifted position, standing on the jutting rocks next to the pipe opening. Rambo and Charlene stood on one side, Ike on the other.

"When we hear the grate open, that's when we hit 'em" whispered Rambo. "Get ready."

"Oh my!" said Charlene, shaking both paws and waggling her claws. "This is so exciting."

"Can it" grunted Ike. "This is serious. These guys could be dangerous. What if they're armed?"

Heck! thought Rambo. I never thought of that. Oh well, too late now.

As the Rats leaned against the rock sea wall they could hear the sound of the approaching perps. Well, they guessed it was the perps. Who else would be running around storm water pipes in the middle of the day? They heard the slap of feet and the splash of water as the perps came closer. There were grunts and gasps and many rustles, and a few sharp words. They heard Hurry up! and Move it! We ain't got much time. It was the perps for sure.

There was a rustle and a lot of heavy breathing then the Rats heard the grate scrape against the concrete pipe. There was a clunk! as it fell open, followed by a breathless Let's get outa here. That was it. Rambo shrilled the whistle and the Rats charged into the opening of the pipe. It was Do or Die!, Seize the Day!, Take No Prisoners! – well, sort of. Ike was screaming like a GI hitting the beach on Iwo Jima, and Charlene was screaming because Ike was screaming. Then the perps started screaming. Rambo thought he'd gone deaf.

* * *

Suddenly the screaming stopped, mainly because everyone had to take a breath. They all stood, frozen, staring at each other, panting. Rambo was right. It was the Water Rats. There were three of them, their arms filled with piles of hot dogs and hamburgers. When all the screaming started two hamburgers had fallen into the slimy water at the bottom of the pipe. One of the Water Rats was staring at them sadly. What a waste!

The Water Rat in the lead had a striped hoodie, a Cleveland Indians beanie, and fingerless leather gloves. He was holding at least a dozen hamburgers. Standing right behind him, the second Water Rat was wearing a blue wool sailors cap and a dark blue T-shirt. He had a large silver watch on his wrist. Like the first, he was also carrying a lot of hamburgers. The third Water Rat was dressed a pink beanie with ear pieces and pom-poms. Clearly she was a girl Water Rat. Her sloppy joe was a nice grey colour with silver sparkle writing on the front. Bee Gees! She was carrying a paper platter stacked high with hot dogs. There was even a bottle of ketchup. She had several silver rings on one paw and all her nails were painted in a dark red.

"That's beautiful!" gasped Charlene. "Is it the new Vermillion from Sage?"

The girl Water Rat stared at Charlene for a moment, then nodded. She didn't say anything. All the Water Rats looked a bit shocked.

"Blimey!" cried Rambo. "Can we stay on point here? We've just nabbed the perps and you're talking about nail polish?"

"It's very important" said Charlene. By this time Ike was staring at the roof of the pipe and rolling his eyes and Rambo could feel his head swelling up. Meanwhile the Water Rats hadn't said a word. They stood silent, their feet in the water, their arms full of food. But the leader was staring at Rambo.

"Rambo. Is it you?" The leader's voice was gravelly, a little like Ike's but with a strange accent. Ike pursed his lips and frowned. Eastern European? Estonian?

When the head Water Rat spoke Rambo's eyes opened wide in surprise. He stared back at the Water Rat. "Salty! Crikey! Am I seeing things?"

The head laughed. "No vana sober. You ain't seein' things. Me it is. And these with me are Klondike and Agnes. We have been collectin' vorsti for the little ones." Salty paused and looked from one Rat to the other. "But what is you here for? You make us scared when you jump out like that. You are not the politsei?"

Rambo hesitated for a second or two. "Well, we are sort of" he said. This caused some grunts and squeals from the Water Rats. Another hamburger fell into the water. But Rambo hurried to reassure them.

"Well, yeah, we sort of are the cops. But only sort of. We're part of the Tomkins Tap Detective Agency from East Village." Rambo gestured towards Ike and Charlene. "These are my colleagues, Ike and Charlene. We're in Brooklyn working for the FoodFest. Management said they've been losing power and food for the past three weeks. They asked us to take and look and see if we could solve the problem." Rambo paused. "Are you guys the problem by any chance?"

Salty looked a bit wounded but nodded sheepishly. "That I think we are Rambo. But we have good reason. The family is with us, you know how it is. But I tell you. We go to the burrow, you will see what I am talkin'. We did not mean anything bad, you know, stealin' the vorsti and the kana. We just need food for all."

"What happened to the knishes and the jerk chicken? Isn't that what you always go for?" Ike didn't sound too friendly.

It was Klondike that replied. He spoke with a Jersey accent. "We t'ought, ya know, we t'ought we should keep 'em guessin'. Nuttin' good never come from bein' predictable."

Ike nodded thoughtfully. "You reckon it put security off the scent?"

The Water Rats all laughed. Klondike replied. "Well, Foodfest Security ain't da brightest bulbs in da pack, but we figured dey'd see da pattern after a few weeks so we changed it. But we couldn't believe dey didn't look outside the market ta see how we was getting' in. Dont take no Einstein ya know. I mean, how long did it take youse guys ta check da sea wall an' all?"

"Fair point" said Rambo. "And that's something we'll have to take up with management. But meantime, let's head over to your burrow and meet the family. I know it's not really kosher, sorry about that, but we might even join you in a burger if there's enough for everyone."

* * *

It turned out that the Water Rats didn't really have a 'burrow'. It was actually a network of cracks, gaps and tunnels at the join of the sea wall and the ferry pier. The rock supports for the ferry pier weren't flush against the sea wall, creating many openings and, once inside, a labyrinth of small caves and grottos. The Water Rats had set up home deep inside the foundations to the pier, a warren of warm and comforting chambers, each lit with many candles, the floors covered in bright rugs.

And it was very crowded. Salty's sister Judith had moved in with her entourage of four junior Water Rats and husband Zeke. And Zeke's sister Alina had also moved in. She brought her husband Arkady as well as three junior Water Rats. Both families had lived for many years under Dock 72 in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, but gentrification and redevelopment spared no one, and now the whole Navy Yard was changing.

"They're rippin' up everything" said Zeke. "Even the rail lines. It's a wasteland. It's gonna be two years before we can go back."

So the extra families had packed into Salty's place. And with Salty's wife Dagmar and the two kids, and Klondike and Agnes, there were seventeen Water Rats living under the ferry pier.

"That's a lotta mouths" mused Ike.

"Dat's right" said Klondike. "Da logistics is crazy."

"I love your perm Alina" said Charlene, fiddling with her earrings.

"And I too Darlink, I luff your pashminy.'" Alina batted her very long eyelashes.

Meanwhile, Salty and Rambo sat in the corner sipping tea and reminiscing about their days on the Murmansk Run, and some obviously very funny stories involving a couple of 'geroyev rodiny' by the name of Boris and Igor. But they quickly moved on to the the problem at FoodFest, and what might be a solution.

"Well I don't think you can continue your forays into FoodFest" said Rambo. "It's too disruptive, but let's see what we can do. We have a debrief with market management later today and, if I'm not mistaken, I think there might be an opening for some security consultants."

And there was. Salty, Klondike and Agnes joined with Rambo, Ike and Charlene to meet with the FoodFest management team and the head of market security. It was a long meeting but an important decision was reached. Salty, Klondike and Agnes, along with Zeke and Arkady, would join the FoodFest security detail, with specific responsibilities for 'waterside access control'. The Water Rats were delighted. No more tricky robberies. No more running up and down wet tunnels and fiddling with electrical circuits. "I was always a bit worried about that" admitted Agnes. Salty and Klondike scoffed, but Rambo secretly thought Agnes was right to be worried. Water and electricity simply do not mix. Ever!

The East Village Rats slapped paws. The case was solved, in no time at all it seemed. FoodFest management knew that the market was secure and that no more robberies would take place; FoodFest security knew they had some excellent recruits working with them – the Water Rats were industrious and street smart; and the Water Rats had a steady source of income that they could use to buy food – not just burgers and hot dogs and knishes and jerk chicken either – maybe even some dough nuts and beignets as well.

It was time to call it quits. So, after a catch up and a cup of tea with the Water Rats, the TTDA trio headed back to East Village. They were pleased. The case was stitched up and the TTDA reputation was intact. In fact, it was glowing. It was a win-win. Or, as Ike put it, a win-win-win.

* * *

"Well done Rambo. You too Ike and Charlene. Only one day to solve the case. That's almost a record." Teddy was very pleased.

"Nice debrief too" grunted Milo.

Rambo beamed and fiddled with his man-bun and clicked his thumb rings together. Ike was leaning against the wire fence and Charlene sat whispering to Petunia. "Vermillion. It was gorgeous. And Alina's perm, you should have seen it."

But the TTDA team was getting tired. They had debriefed on the Scarlet Stiletto and the Food Truck on 8th and A, and now they'd heard Rambo's update on the FoodFest fiasco. It had been a long day but everyone was pleased that all the cases were solved. Graeme was drawing in the dirt and whining about cupcakes, Ernie was polishing his glasses, Perkie was taking notes, and Terry had dozed off and fallen over on his side. When he sat up and shook his head a cloud of dust rose from his Mohawk. Ike couldn't help himself.

"Time to squirrel up Cochise. No snoozin'. We still have to hear about the Scotties." When he said this Ike looked defiantly at Charlene, who gave him her usual death stare. Ike shrugged and started picking his claws. Terry looked confused. Graeme moaned and started rocking back and forth. Petunia burped.

"I know it's getting a little late" said Teddy. "But we're nearly there. Perkie, how are you with the minutes?"

"AOK Boss" piped Perkie. "All systems go."

"Ok. We still have to hear from the Squirrels. Ernie, you're the last man standing, or last Squirrel I guess. What happened down in Chinatown. How did it go with the Scotties? Are you ready?"

"Ready as T."

"Let's hear it."

# Scorched Scotties and Phantom Ferrets

The dust up in Chinatown was a real puzzle, in more ways than one. For a start Ernie had never been able to figure out why the Scotties chose Chinatown as their hang-out. I mean, wouldn't something like Grammercy or Murray Hill be more name appropriate? Or even Park Slope or Fort Greene? And haggis and Kung Pao chicken just didn't seem to go together. But it all worked for the Scotties. They loved Chinatown, and Chinatown loved them. At least it loved them most of the time. And right now it seemed like it didn't. Right now there was another puzzle to solve. Someone was targeting the Scotties, and the Scotties were running in circles with scorched kilts and burned whiskers. They needed help. It was time to call in the TTDA.

The Scotties main hang-out was down by Sara Roosevelt Park on the corner of Grand and Chrystie Streets. The Park is long and narrow, set between Chrystie and Forsyth Streets, and running from Houston right down to Canal. The streets and lanes surrounding the park are filled with small supermarkets, green grocers, stores selling herbs and spices, and other stores selling all varieties of meat. There are also hardware stores, take-outs, delis, laundries, bakeries and mobile phone stores on each block. The streets are crowded and the traffic is always heavy.

The Scotties domain covered a lot of the Lower East Side, ranging from Houston Street down to Columbus Park, then across to Seward Park close by the Williamsburg Bridge ramp. In return for ensuring that the parks were kept clean, the Scotties had management rights. And food rights of course. There were lots of businesses in the area, lots of food vendors, and lots and lots of people. This meant rich pickings. All the waste bins and dumpsters were filled with half eaten burgers, pizzas, noodles and dumplings. Each corner of the Scotties domain had its own specialties – pizzas near City Hall, dumplings around Grand Street and Roosevelt Park, noodles on Seward, and burgers, beignets and doughnuts near Columbus. What a feast!

When the Squirrels arrived at the corner of Grand the Scotties were sitting in a dejected bunch behind a large dumpster. Normally they were a well-dressed crew, but today it was a different story. Their coats were scorched and curled and their whiskers twisted and burned. Even their eyebrows were scorched. They were a sorry lot indeed.

Douglas, the leader, and the elder statesman of the trio, was wearing a black coat and a short kilt with a silver brooch at the hip. Normally he also had a huge salt and pepper moustache, but not today. Instead of sporting the usual sweeping curls, today Douglas's moustache was a tangled snarl of blackened whiskers. He looked very sad.

Sitting behind Douglas was Evan, who was the same size and colour as Douglas, but with a much smaller moustache. Evan didn't sport a kilt, but he always wore a Scottish hat. He called it a Glengarry. It was black with short ribbons. Ernie thought it looked like Evan had a large slice of black watermelon slapped on his head, but today it looked more like a fried avocado. Even the ribbons had been burned off. Evan had a very sour look on his face.

And finally there was Mungo, who was leaning against the dumpster clacking his toenails together. Mungo had an even thicker accent than Douglas. He came from the Isle of Skye and his coat was so coarse it looked like someone had thrown a very worn red hairy rug over him, except today it looked like a heavily scorched very worn red hairy rug. While Mungo wasn't usually as gussied-up as his mates he had a more easy-going personality. Douglas and Evan tended to the dour side but Mungo was irreverent and happy and given to inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times. Ernie just wished he could understand what he said. The Scotties all shuffled to their feet as the Squirrels trotted up to join them. Douglas slapped his paws together and starting tweaking his moustache, at least what was left of it.

"Ah, tis th' Squirrels" he growled. "Tis guid tae see ye. How urr ye Ernie? 'N th' wee jimmies tae, young Terry 'n' Graeme?"

Ernie paused for a second as he translated Douglas in his head. The 'wee jimmies' simply stared at the Scotties, wide eyed. They hadn't understood a word.

"Good to see you too Douglas. We're all doing well thanks. But from the look of your coats and your whiskers you've been having some problems down here."

"Och thit's fur sure Ernie. Tis happened three times noo. Three times boyo! Wance while we wur traivelin' in Toon Loaby Pairk. Twas a crakin' nicht 'n' a' 'n' we wis juist aff Baxter. Twas tairible, twas."

"What?" said Graeme. Ernie shushed him gently.

Then Douglas spotted the biscuits. "Bit whit's it ah see under yer arm there Ernie? It cuid be some o' thaim shortbreads a'm thinkin'."

"Shortbreads they are" said Ernie as he handed the shortbreads to Douglas. There was a mumble of appreciation and much head nodding from the other Scotties. Douglas chortled. "Cheers fur th' shortbreads" he said. "We'll be eatin' they wi' oor cuppa this forenicht."

But Ernie was more interested in the case in hand. "You said it happened three times. What about the other times?" he asked. It was Mungo who responded.

"Tairible mon, tairible indeed. Bit anither nicht we wis ower in Seward Pairk. Anither grand nicht blown a' tae pieces ah tell ye. Tairible. Tairible. 'N then anither, 'ere oan Grand Wynd. Richt 'ere mynd ye, richt oan oor hame turf. 'Twas shockin'." Mungo's accent was thick and clotted. It almost sounded as if he was choking. Must be the haggis thought Ernie.

"What?" said Graeme, again. Ernie batted the air with his paws. He needed a moment.

"Ok" he said. "Three incidents. One in City Hall Park, one in Seward Park, and one here on Grand, near Sara Roosevelt Park." Ernie looked at Douglas. "What happened exactly? Did you see anyone?"

"Och aye mon, bit we dint see a soul. Yin minute thire we ur, enjoyin' a burger, or a pizza, or a dumplin', 'n' then, a' o' a sudden, bang, crash, wallop 'n' th' air's filled wi' smoke 'n' we're runnin' fur oor bides. 'N' th' reek. It howfs ill ye ken whin tis yer ain locks that's pure burnin`."

"Aye, twas a real stinker" echoed Evan.

"What was the cause? Was it firecrackers?"

"Firecrackers fur sure" said Douglas. "Twas lik' a nightmare. Twas a bonnie nicht, nearly nine o'clock ye ken, then th' nicht is filled wi' flashes 'n' bangs 'n' smoke 'n' a'm runnin' doon th' road wi' mah whiskers pure burnin'."

"Pure burnin'?" Graeme again. Everyone ignored him.

"But did you see anyone?" persisted Ernie.

"Nae a soul. Nae wance. At Seward th' ainlie body near us wis a richt auldjin, Chinese ah think, sittin` under th' streetlight. Identical in Toon Loaby Pairk, na yin aroond except some fowk traivelin' thire dugs. Ah think a' body teuk aff runnin' whin th' bangs gaed aff. 'N' doon 'ere oan Grand, we dint see na yin neither. Nae a body. Twas gey mirk mynd ye. 'N ye ken th' lights ain't sae braw this end o' toun.

Ernie looked a little perplexed for a moment, then nodded. "Reckon that's the truth" he said.

"What?" asked Graeme. Ernie gave Graeme a death stare. Terry grimaced and started scratching his head.

"Douglas said that they didn't see anyone when these incidents took place. He also said that it's pretty dark down here at the bottom of the island. There are simply not enough streetlights. And the ones they do have are those sodium yellow jobs that make it hard to see. And that's on a clear night. Imagine what it must be like when it's raining."

By now the Scotties were staring at Ernie intently. Did he have a plan? What was it? How were the Squirrels going to help the Scotties? But Ernie needed more. Was there anyone that might want to hurt the Scotties? Was there anyone that wanted to frighten them? And, if there was, why?

"What happened then?" he asked. This time Evan answered.

"Whin we gaed back th' neist mornin', tae check 'n' see whit happened, a' th' bins wur cleaned oot, nae a burger, nae a beignet, ae a doughnut. Hee haw. Twas same ilk time."

By this time everyone was sitting down, the Scotties with their backs to the dumpster, the Squirrels in a row against the wall of the building. Ernie was scratching his chin. He looked thoughtful.

"So" he said. "Each incident happened in a park. Each incident occurred at night – between, when was it – 8pm to 9pm?" The Scotties nodded in unison.

"Ok" said Ernie, adjusting his spectacles. "In a park, at night, around 8pm, and every time some food disappeared. These are not coincidences. I think the food is be the key here. But the big question is 'who?' Who could it be that wants the left over food in the waste bins?" Ernie looked at each of the Scotties intently. "Who could it be?"

Douglas was nodding slowly. "Weel, ye'r richt o' coorse. We did dae a lot o' thinkin' oan this, lik' wha 'n' how come 'n' how fur 'n all. We thought a' foremaist it cuid ainlie be th' fairn, bit we dinnae ken wha. We thought aboot th' Weimaraners ower in Battery Pairk, bit thire guid folk, 'n' tae far awa' anyhoo. 'N thire tough guys tae. Thire nae gonnae toss a fire cracker tae caw ower a buckit."

Suddenly the air was split with a shriek. It was Graeme. He was pointing to a nearby shop-front, his tail shaking.

"What's that?" he screeched. "They've got pigeons hanging in the window. They're cannibals." He started sobbing. The Scotties looked embarrassed. Terry looked exasperated.

Ernie looked at the shop-front. "It's a Chinese deli Graeme" he said. "Those are ducks. They smoke them and hang them up. That's why they look like that."

"Ducks" sobbed Graeme. "One of my aunties is a duck."

"No she's not" said Terry firmly. "Last time we had this conversation she was still a Squirrel. Get a grip."

With Graeme snuffling and gulping Ernie turned back to business. "No one else?"

Douglas was tapping his teeth with his index finger, his eyes scrunched up. He had one eye fixed on Graeme. "Thire's some unsavoury types aroond th' Brooklyn Bridge ramp, bit we dinnae see muckle o' thaim. Na, ah cannae think o' ony ither body."

"What about the Five Points?" asked Ernie.

"Five Points?"

"Yep. Five Points. Used to be the 6th Circle of Hell back in the day."

"Bit thit's lang gaen is it nae? Tis a' bult` ower 'n' gentrified a'm thinkin'."

"Only on the surface. There's still a warren of tunnels under the Five Points streets and under many of the old buildings. Some of the basements go down four levels."

This brought a chorus of 'Begorrahs' and 'Och Ayes' from the Scotties and a grunt from Terry. Graeme gulped and burped.

"We ne'er thought o' th' Five Points. Ne'er wance. We dinnae ken a'body fae doon thit wey" said Evan.

"Bit tis nae fair." said Douglas. "Ainlie a block or twa. 'N we knew hee haw o' th' tunnels. Cuid be a'body livin' doon thire."

"That's right" said Ernie. "It could be anybody. And I think the only way we clear this is 'old faithful'. We need a stake-out."

Terry groaned. "A stake-out? Like as in a nighttime stake-out? That's original." Graeme gulped and burped again. Evan asked him if he was feeling ill.

But Ernie continued before Graeme could respond. "Yep. Nighttime stake-out Tez. But it's not that bad so stop being sarcastic. We pick a park, get the Scotties to do a pass through around say 7pm, then we wait and see if we've flushed out the perps. If there's anyone that wants the Scotties out so they can take the food then that's when they'll hit us." Ernie looked at Douglas. "What do you think Douglas? Which park is most likely?"

"Weel tis Seward Pairk that's due fur cleanin', sae mibbie that wid be th' best. Tis four days sin we wis thire 'n' th' bins wull be stowed oot." He hesitated and frowned. "Weel, thay shuid be stowed oot."

"Stewed fruit?" asked Graeme, looking puzzled. Ernie ignored him.

"Seward Park it is. We start tonight. Everyone bring your whistles. Scotties - we'll need you to walk through between 7pm and 7.30pm - we'll take it from there. Are you good with that?"

"Och aye. Nae trauchle at a'. Mony cheers fur comin' doon tae hulp us. We're hopin' we solve th' kinch richt quick noo."

* * *

But Seward Park was a bust. After regrouping outside the park at 7pm, the Squirrels dispersed into the trees. Ernie scampered up a tall oak near the corner of Hester and Essex, close by the site for the Hester Street Fair; Terry climbed into a bushy elm at the bottom end of the park at the intersection of Hester and Canal; Graeme whined a little but ran off and climbed into another oak on the far side, close by the Seward Park Library. Seward was a small park, barely two hundred yards wide and only a little longer. The Squirrels couldn't quite see each other, but it was an easy whistle.

The Scotties waited until the Squirrels were in position then slowly meandered into the park. As they passed by the waste bins they paused and checked each one, ready to empty the bin of goodies. But after inspecting three bins the Scotties became concerned and bunched together on one of the many paths criss-crossing the park. All of the bins had been stripped: no stale pizza, no half-eaten burgers, no loose fries, no dumplings, no noodles, no nothing. The Scotties waved urgently to the Squirrels, who quickly scampered out of their trees and joined the Scotties on the path.

"What's up?" asked Ernie.

The Scotties faces were serious. Douglas spoke. "Thire's na fairn in th' bins. They bin pult aff. Whoe'er tis haes gubbed us 'ere. We'll hae tae huv t' go anither pairk."

Ernie scratched his chin a few times. "So it does look like the food's the main draw. You don't think it's worthwhile staying here?"

"Weel a dinnae pure ken. Bit we dae ken thit fairn haes gaen ilk time we bin attacked. Mibbie we shuid huv a go anither pairk, ye ken, whaur thire's fairn in th' bins. Same ilk time 'n' a' thit.

Ernie nodded. "You're right Douglas. We need to replicate the same conditions; food, time, location." He glanced at his watch. "It's barely 7.30pm. We still have time. What other park would you suggest?"

"Th' closest pairk is Columbus. Anither wee pairk sure, bit mibbie bein' claise tae th' Five Points, lik' ye wis sayin', it micht be a guid yin. Tis mibbie ten minutes donder."

Just then Evan spoke, his eyes on Graeme, who was fiddling with his watch. "Whit's that ye'r sportin' oan yer arm boyo? Tis sae muckle it looks lik' a flyin' saucer dinnae ye ken. Mibbie some aliens comin' tae git ye?"

"What?" said Graeme.

"It's a wrist-watch" said Terry. "It's a Breitling."

"It is" said Graeme. "It's my Breitling."

"Bit tis sae muckle mon. Mibbie ye cuid beam us up. Bein' Scotties 'n a' ye ken. He he."

"Muckle?" said Graeme, looking confused.

"Big. It means big" said Terry. He turned to Evan. "Very funny Evan." Evan and Mungo laughed. Douglas frowned but said nothing.

Ernie shook his head in exasperation. "Guys. We don't have a lot of time. Let's get moving."

With the Scotties chuckling and Graeme griping about Breitling watches and aliens the team moved out. It was only a few blocks to Columbus, right in the heart of Five Points territory. Ernie knew it was a long shot but who knows, sometimes that's all the luck you need.

* * *

Douglas was right. It wasn't far. It took the group barely ten minutes to make their way over to Columbus Park. As they neared the park the mood darkened. The buildings around Five Points were short and dark. They crowded close together, almost as if shoulder to shoulder, with uneven rooflines, their cracked windows staring fiercely down at the cramped wet streets below. The streetlights in Five Points were as poor as those near Seward, the yellow sodium glow spilling black shadows into the alleys and lanes and creating inky pools under the trees in the park and chopped, sharp shadows across the faces of buildings.

"This is creepy" said Graeme in a high-pitched squeak.

"Gey creepy it is laddie. We dinnae come doon 'ere gey muckle. Hardly ever pure. Bit let's be aboot it. We'll check a' th' bins, ye Squirrels gang tae yer trees."

Columbus Park was similar in size to Seward Park, perhaps two hundred yards in length, but very narrow, and no more than fifty yards at its widest point at the north end. Ernie ran to a clump of elms at the north corner near a dilapidated bandstand, while Terry took up position in a droopy myrtle on the corner of Hogan and Baxter. Graeme couldn't find a suitable tree on his side of the park so he climbed a street lamp. He was able to climb far enough up the light pole to avoid the light spill, and he had a perfect view across the park. Between them, the Squirrels now had all the paths covered, and all the bins. It was impossible for anyone to come into the park without being seen.

As the Squirrels kept watch the Scotties made their way across the park, stopping every now and then to check a bin. After one loop they stopped, and Douglass gave a thumbs up in the general direction of the Squirrels. The bins were loaded. It was 'All Systems Go!'.

The Scotties ran off up Baxter Street. The plan was that having 'primed the pump', the Scotties would stay out of sight around the corner of White and Baxter. If anything happened the Squirrels would sound their whistles, and the Scotties would come running. From Douglas's perspective it was a good move tactically, because by coming in along Baxter they could ensure that all park entrances and exits were covered.

It was now almost 8.30pm and the streets were starting to empty out. The trees moved slowly in a cool breeze coming off the river; a trio of runners trotted through the park, followed by a young couple with two Dogs; a cyclist passed by silently on Mulberry; it was all very quiet, the city battening itself down for the night. Both the Squirrels and the Scotties knew it was at best a slim chance that anything would happen, but heck, it was only for another hour or two, and then it was home for some cocoa and lamingtons, slippers and a warm bed. And cupcakes of course!

Graeme was holding tight to the light pole and shivering slightly. He was watching the minute hand of his Breitling moving slowly across the watch face. It's slower than a glacier he thought. Maybe there's something wrong with it. He was just getting ready to tap the watch a couple of times, maybe it would speed up, when he heard a low rattle and a tinny clang in the street behind him. He squirmed around until he could see what was happening.

Behind him, not far along Mosco Street, Graeme could see several dark shadows moving about. They were all quite small, and all appeared to be wearing caps and carrying large duffel bags or something similar. Moving quickly, the shadows turned into Mulberry Street and crossed the road into the park. As they passed under his light Graeme gasped. Ferrets! Lean and hungry Ferrets. Three of them.

Each of the Ferrets was wearing a dark pea-coat and a black or navy Boston scally cap pulled low over their eyes. Graeme could see whiskers protruding from each side of the cap and the gleam of tiny knuckles gripping the necks of the large lumpy bags that hung over their shoulders. The Ferrets moved into the park, stopping at the edge of the light from Graeme's pole. A short conversation took place. Graeme could hear clearly what was being said, but he couldn't tell who was speaking.

"Whats youse got in da cracker bag ternight Bernie?"

"Bangers 'n squibs Snake. 'N free Caf'rine Wheels, ye know, light 'em up."

"How about you Shylock? Whats youse got in da bag?"

"I got rockets, three of 'em. An' two Mount Vesuvius's."

"He he! Ain't it grand, dem Dundee rockets runnin' off screamin'?"

"Yeah, whiskers curlin', tails burnin'. Best dey keeps on runnin' too, dem little oatmeal munchers. Dis is our territoree. We's got da management rights round 'ere."

"Well, let's get to it. Ya seen 'em a few minutes back. Gets ya bangers ready 'n' let's go fry dere haggis."

With that the Ferrets moved off towards the middle of the park, one paw clutching a duffel bag, the other filled with bangers and squibs. As they moved away Graeme climbed quickly down his light pole and followed. He made sure he didn't get too close. There were bins and bushes and garden seats scattered throughout the park and he ran from one to the other, using each one for cover as he followed the Ferrets. He had no doubt about it. These were the perps. And they were up for action.

* * *

Graeme ran along Mulberry until he reached the north end. He saw that Ernie had left his tree and was crouched beside the old bandstand, only his eyes visible above the edge of the stage. Graeme joined Ernie and they peered out into the park. The Ferrets were coming slowly towards them, looking from side to side. They seemed flustered.

"Youse said dey was gonna be 'ere." Bernie's voice scraped like a nail on a blackboard.

"Well dey was. I seen 'em" said Snake

"But dey ain't."

"No dey ain't."

"Is youse makin' fun o' me?"

"What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Jaysus!"

"Bernie! Youse got some squibs dere?" It was Shylock.

"Yo, Shylock, got 'em right 'ere."

"Dis is bad. All dis way 'n none o' dem Haggis munchers is anywhere in sight. We's gona have ta come back termorrer. Gimme a squib."

A match flared and there was short sizzling sound and a shower of sparks as something arced through the air. There was a loud bang and screams from all round. A flock of starlings rose shrieking from the oak trees. The Ferrets laughed and started digging around in their bags. "Let's do another one." Then Ernie blew the whistle.

For moment there was a stunned silence, then the Ferrets burst into action.

"It's da cops" shrieked Shylock.

"It's da immigrations" screeched Snake. "I ain't gots me green card."

"Run" yelled Bernie.

The Ferrets threw their bags over their shoulders and took off towards the south end of the park. But then Terry appeared out of the shadows and they skidded to a halt.

"Stop" shouted Terry. The Ferrets turned and rushed back across the park towards Baxter Street with Terry and Ernie and Graeme hot on their trail. But they didn't get far. Suddenly, out of the darkness loomed three giants. Well, giant shadows anyhow. But these pretty quickly resolved themselves into three stocky Scotties.

"Enough be jingo!, stoap richt thire. Thire's nothin' tae be afeart o'. We juist wantae blether."

The Ferrets skidded to a halt. They were trapped. In front of them stood the Scotties, ominous and dour; behind them stood Ernie and Graeme and Terry, maybe not so ominous, and certainly not so dour, but now it was six against three. Even the fearless Ferrets knew when discretion was the better part of valour.

"Whos is youse? What does youse want?" Shylock was defiant.

"Ye ken weel enough wha we ur a'm thinkin', bit thae ither wee jimmies, thire oor mukkers fae th' Tompkins Tap Detective Agency. Thire 'ere tae hulp.

Snake turned to Shylock. "Is he chokin' or somethin'?"

Douglas wasn't impressed. "Tis na need tae be rude laddie. Scots we ur, tae oor gey bones. We juist wantae blether. Whitevur it's thit's th' kinch we think we kin fix it richt quick whit wi' talkin' tae ilk ither."

Shylock dropped his duffel bag at his feet. The other Ferrets did the same. The Scotties came closer and were joined by the Squirrels. The two groups stood facing each other in the middle of the park. There was a long silence until finally Shylock seemed to reach a decision.

"Ok" he rasped. "I don't really unnerstands what youse is sayin', but I t'inks ya means well. So dis is da way it is. Yeah, we knows whos youse is. Youse is dem haggis munchers from up Roosevelt. Well, we's thinkin' dat youse got more dan enough parks unner management. Roosevelt, Seward, City Hall, Columbus. Dat's a lot o' parks. We t'inks dere's gotta be some sharin'. Dis is our patch, ya know dat, da Five Points 'n all. We wants Columbus 'n we t'inks we should have Seward too. Dat's fair."

"Haggis munchers?" mused Mungo. "A'm crooshed. A' dinnae even lik' haggis."

"Den make it da oatmeal, or da salted cod, or somethin'. I don't care. We's just wants da parks. We's got families too ya know."

"Ah don't be likin' oatmeal muckle neither by th' wey. Bit salted cod? Now thire's a thought." Mungo rubbed his paws together and looked pensive.

Meanwhile Douglas was nodding slowly and scratching his chin. "Weel. A' think we hae plenty o' room fur negotiation here. Tis true. We dae hae a lot o' pairks, 'N th' pickings ur guid. Ain't nae reason a'm thinkin' we cannae share th' pairks."

"Bit Douglas, we hae families tae" protested Mungo. "Ye ken that Britta loues pizza. How fur wull we git pizza if we gie awa' Seward?"

"Maybe a weekly trade?" suggested Ernie. "You said that each park has a particular specialty. You could meet once a week, or maybe even every couple of days, to trade specialties. That'd work."

Douglas nodded, casting his eyes back and forth between Evan and Mungo who both frowned thoughtfully. The Ferrets looked on, heads cocked. They could sense that a deal was in the air.

"A'richt. A've bin thinkin' oan this. 'N here's a somethin' tae add. Th' Ferrets kin hae th' heid yins rights fur Columbus 'n' Seward, juist lik' Shylock said. Th' Scotties keep Roosevelt 'n' Toon Loaby. 'N tae be honest, juist th' twa pairks tae keek efter is richt enough. 'N we catch up wi` in Columbus ilka Wensday 'n' Seturday forenicht tae trade."

There were a few moments as Ernie translated for the Ferrets and Graeme, but soon the Ferrets were grinning and nodding to each other. This was a good deal, a real win-win for the Ferrets and the Scotties. And Ernie was very pleased. This case looked like it was going to be a quick solve. That was another big win for the TTDA.

But Mungo had a question. "Bit th' firecrackers? Whit's it wi' th' firecrackers 'n' a'? It'll be nigh oan a munth afore mah whiskers graw beck. 'N Evan's jaiket wull ne'er be th' seam."

The Ferrets had the grace to look a little sheepish. There was a bit of muttering before Shylock spoke up. "We thought da bangers 'n squibs might frighten youse off. Ya know, a few bangs 'n pops 'n some Caf'rine Wheels fer sparks 'n smoke. T'rific fun ya know."

"Sae, wis ye trying tae frighten us aff, or wur ye juist huvin' fin?"

Shylock cut his eyes at the other Ferrets and they all sniggered. "Bit 'o both Boss. We means what we said 'bout da parks. For sure. But we wuz also havin' some fun." All the Ferrets laughed. Douglas cocked an eyebrow at them.

"Weel mibbie ye coulda saved some time, 'n' we coulda saved some fur too, if you'd juist taken some time tae hae a blether."

Shylock nodded. "Yeah. Sorry 'bout that. I guess we didn't t'ink too much on it. We's didn't really mean no harm."

"'N' nae harm dane. Though mibbie some egos ur a bawherr wounded. Bit thit'll bygae. Let's shoogle oan th' deal. T'day's Thursday, sae oor foremaist trade is oan Seturdee. See ya here in twa days, same time, same steid. 'N' dinnae forgoat tae bring yer goodies."

Everyone shook paws. The Ferrets slapped each other on the back and high-fived each other, the Scotties stood with arms folded nodding soberly, the Squirrels clustered nearby, paws on hips, watching the others. It was a great outcome. The Scotties were happy that they could grow their whiskers back, the Ferrets were happy that they had an agreement to share management rights and goodies, and the Squirrels were happy that the case was solved. Ernie couldn't believe his luck. Picking Columbus Park for the stake-out had paid off big time. If Douglas hadn't suggested Columbus they might have been running around for weeks trying to identify the perps. Ernie hoped the TTDA would be impressed.

As the Scotties and the Squirrels headed back uptown to Roosevelt Park, the Ferrets headed south to Mosco Street. Ernie thought they'd maybe overstepped the mark a bit with the fireworks, but they were good hearted, and they really only wanted to share. The Scotties and Squirrels were turning into Canal Street, barely two blocks from Columbus, when Ernie heard two, then three, loud bangs in the distance. A second later there came the faint sounds of screams and the shriek of birds. Ernie shook his head. T'rific fun indeed!

* * *

"Well done Ernie. You too Terry and Graeme. A great effort all round. We're starting to set some high bars here." Teddy was delighted. Another day, another case. The TTDA was building an impressive record. Everyone was pleased for the Squirrels. Even Rambo and Ike seemed impressed.

"Good one Doughboy. You stepped up." Graeme reddened up and beamed at Rambo's compliment.

"Yeah, good one Doughboy" said Ike. "You too Cochise." He also gave Ernie a hand salute. "Right on Ern."

Charlene smiled and blew on her nails. "That's very nice of you Ike" she said. Ike looked a little embarrassed and started picking his claws. Rambo looked miffed. What about me?

"You too Rambo" said Charlene. Rambo pursed his lips and nodded.

"It's been a successful week Boss" said Milo to Teddy. "But the team is looking a trifle jaded I might say. Mayhap some R&R is in order?"

Teddy nodded. "Well, normally I'd say yes, that we should take a few days off, but it's only going to be one evening I'm afraid. There's another case brewing and it's not waiting for us." This was followed by a chorus of moans, chirps and squeaks. Petunia burped.

"It's no use complaining" said Teddy. "This is what you signed up for." He turned to Perkie. "Perks, how are the minutes? All good?"

"All good T. I have everything on Ernie's case. I think the only case outstanding from last week is the Haunted Hound." This brought a collective gasp. Petunia burped again.

"Correct" said Teddy. "The Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village. I mentioned it at the beginning of the week. We have to get moving on it. But right now we should all head home, have some chow, kip down, and rest."

But Perkie had more to add. "But that's not all T. While we've been busy solving these cases another six cases have come in. We have a lot to talk about. I think we're going to be busy." There was a chorus of moans. Graeme asked if there were any cupcakes.

Teddy nodded. "You're right Perks, we are going to be busy. But the other cases will have to wait. Our first priority is the Haunted Hound. I think this one's going to need a full court press, everyone in, whatever it takes. And who knows for how long? We've been lucky so far and we've solved all our cases double-quick. Let's hope our luck holds. Now, everyone should go and get a good night's rest. But be here tomorrow morning first thing. We kick off at 10am."

The team dispersed, the Dogs running off to see their landlords and check their Doghouses and food bowls, the Squirrels scampering off to their cubbies into the trees in the middle of Tomkins, the Pigeons flying off to the rooftops and eves along Avenue C. The Rats followed the Squirrels, running into their burrows among the trees at the south end of the park. Pretty soon everyone was buttoned up for the night, wrapped in warm rugs and slippers, beanies pulled down low and bed-socks pulled up high, cups of warm tea in paw, bowls filled with nuts or seeds or kibble on the side table. It was time for a good rest and, hopefully, a dreamless snooze. Tomorrow it was off to Greenwich Village to search for the Haunted Hound. This sounded decidedly creepy. Everyone secretly hoped that it wasn't going to be a nightmare.

# The Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village

It was raining steadily when the TTDA regrouped at 10am the following morning. The clouds hung low over the city, turning the black streets into shiny wet skating rinks, and filling the sidewalks with hurrying workers and bouncing umbrellas. It was so dark that the yellow streetlights had come on and they floated in the gloom, blurry golden halos wobbling and reshaping themselves in curtains of rain. The red-orange-green of traffic lights and the bright beams of headlights bounced in the air and the lights of the shops glowed in warm yellows and reds, throwing splashes of colour onto slick sidewalks where raindrops shattered like jewels.

The team's usual meeting place between the picnic tables and the Little Dog Run was totally flooded. There were still people hurrying through the park but the paths were mostly empty and the basketball courts were deserted. Teddy led the team over to the nearby maintenance sheds. There was a small covered area attached to the sheds that looked out over the basketball courts. It had three tables with bench seats. Not so comfortable maybe but at least it was dry. There were also three large black waste bins pushed up against the wall of the maintenance shed nearby the tables.

Everyone was wearing a jacket or a rain coat. Perkie even had a new puff parka. Purple no less. When Charlene saw it she pouted and batted her eyelashes at Perkie. "It's beautiful" she breathed. Perkie giggled and looked pleased.

The Dogs and the Squirrels squashed together along one of the bench seats, the Rats and the Pigeons on the other. As Pilsbury waddled over Rambo reached out to help him up onto the seat.

"How's it goin' Duke? Shot anyone lately?"

"Huh?" Pilsbury, as usual, was dumbfounded.

"Ignore him Pils" said Charlene. "Small things amuse small minds."

Ike and Rambo high-fived each other. Charlene snorted in disgust. Recidivists!

As the team arranged itself at the table – it was a tight fit – Ike gave Rambo a nudge and nodded towards the Squirrels. Graeme was wearing a new Tommy Hilfigger rainjacket with a hood. His hair had been freshly cut and he had an Eddie Bauer beanie pulled low over his ears. Terry sat next to Graeme. His hair was also freshly cut. The sides had been shaved so close that it made his Mohawk look even taller.

Ike nodded at them. "Evenin' Doughboy. Evenin' Cochise." Graeme looked blank. Terry frowned.

Teddy interrupted. "Time to call everyone to order I think. We're here to talk about the Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village. Perks, can you walk us through it?"

Perkie pushed her spectacles up onto her forehead. As well as her new puffer jacket she was wearing her pashmina scarf, a lovely shade of purple that matched both the jacket and her eyeliner, plus long silver earrings and matching silver thumb rings. Her claws and toenails were all painted a matching shade of dark blue. Perkie was on a roll. She shuffled her notes.

"It's a long story this one. And creepy too. You'll remember we had some intel earlier in the week about the case. Two puppies were abducted in the heart of the Village. The perps got away clean. No one saw a thing. Except for a ghostly Dog that was seen in the vicinity. Actually, it almost sounds like an apparition. And it gets creepier. I've just had an update from Spud Murphy at the 13th. There's been another abduction – two more puppies – and another sighting of the ghostly Dog."

There were moans all round and a couple of cries of horror. Puppies! Oh no! There was nothing worse.

Perkie continued. "So far four puppies have been abducted, two each on two separate occasions, the last abduction taking place the night before last. On second thoughts maybe stolen is a better word than abduction because no ransom notes have been received, but I'll keep it simple. The abductions have taken place over a three-week period – from two Basset families in Greenwich Village – one on 8th Avenue near Abingdon Square, the other on 11th Street not far from the Lillipilli Bakery. Each of the abductions took place between 9pm and 11pm, and on each occasion a ghostly Dog was sighted nearby. It sounds terrible from the descriptions, huge and black, with glowing green jaws dripping with slime, and bright red eyes. Needless to say the Basset families are stricken over the loss of their puppies and terrified at the thought of the ghost Dog.

"Seriously?" said Percy, cocking an eyebrow. "Do we really think there's a ghost Dog out there stealing puppies?"

Milo scratched his chin and nodded. "Hmm. Fair point Percival. It's pretty unlikely that we have a real ghost loitering in the Village, but the only way we find out is by investigating."

There was much muttering and eye rolling. "One of my aunties is a ghost" whispered Graeme. Terry stopped fiddling with his Mohawk and stared at Graeme. Could it be true?

"So" said Perkie. "No ransom notes. Nothing. Not a peep. The Bassets and the cops are completely in the dark. Sorry, no pun intended. The Bassets are so freaked out they've barricaded themselves inside their cubbies and are standing watch day and night. They've told the police they feel like they're under siege."

"I guess they are, in a way" observed Teddy. "What have the police been doing? Have they been sending out search parties for the puppies?"

"Yes, there have been search parties but, as usual, the cops are down on numbers. The police never have enough resources and the Bassets are all too scared to leave their other puppies unguarded. Between the Bassets and the police they've been able to send out two search parties each day but only one at night, and usually there's only two Dogs or two police each time, so they don't cover much ground. Spud said there's not much they can do about it what with all the cutbacks."

Milo shook his head. "City Hall. Always City Hall." There were glum looks and nods of assent. Yep. City Hall. Stay off the grass! Stay away from the trash cans! Don't dig in the gardens! Seriously!

"And the search parties have found what?" rumbled Milo.

"Not a skerrick Milo. But...two nights ago...one of the search parties did see the Hound – and they really are calling it the Haunted Hound – they saw the Hound walking in one of the side-streets near the Bleecker Playground. The search party, in this case two police officers only, took cover in the playground and watched it from behind the swings. They said it stopped on the other side of the street and seemed to stare at them for a long time. They could see its eyes flashing and its jaws dripping, a greeny golden slime. They said it was a terrible sight. They were so scared."

There was a chorus of gasps of horror and groans. Terry's Mohawk suddenly seemed to be standing even taller, and Graeme started to cry. Rambo and Ike rolled their eyes but said nothing. Charlene put her paw on Graeme's shoulder. "It's ok" she said. "It won't get you." Graeme gulped and hiccupped.

"Did anyone try to follow it?" asked Ernie.

"I asked about that" said Perkie. "Spud said the reports were that the search party was too terrified to go after it. They watched it move along the street and then it simply disappeared." She shook her head slowly from side to side. "They really need some help."

"Disappeared? Near the Bleecker Playground? Which street was it?" asked Teddy.

"It was last seen on Banks" replied Perkie.

"On the west side" mused Teddy. He turned to Milo. "We're assuming that the Hound has something to do with the abductions. It might, but it also might not. It could even be a diversion."

"True" said Milo. "But it has been seen at the same time and at the same location of each of the abductions. Remember the show NCIS? Remember what that feller Gibbs said – There is no such thing as coincidence."

"Well, there's a thousand quotes like that Milo but I take your point. The link is too strong to ignore. The Hound's the common denominator, so it has to be our target. To find the Hound we need to stake-out the area where it's been seen." When Teddy said this there was a chorus of moans. Not another stake-out. Mama mia!

"Cool it" said Teddy, batting the air with his paws. "But yes, I'm serious, another stake-out, and that's tonight, and...it's all hands to the pump. Everyone's involved this time. We need to make sure we have good coverage. But first we plan the operation."

Teddy held up his left paw, with claws extended. He tapped these with his other paw. "First thing we do is spread the load. We split up. We need to go see the Basset families. I suggest the Dogs go see the family on Hudson, the Rats go see the family on 11th. You won't have any trouble finding it Splinter. It's near the Lillipilli Bakery."

This brought a stifled moan from Graeme. He turned to Ernie. "Can't we go see the Bassets. I love going to 11th." Ernie simply stared at Graeme and shook his head slowly from side to side.

Teddy tapped a third claw. "The Pigeons will go see the boys at the 6th Precinct. They'll have the latest. Perce, you know Mickey? He's often on the front desk."

Percy nodded, his spectacles pebbled with rain drops. His eyes looked like saucers. Pilsbury and Petunia sat patiently, their wings folded across their tummies, their sharp eyes flickering.

Teddy held up his thumb claw. "The Squirrels will check with the other locals who might have intel – Dogs, Water Rats, Guinea Pigs, anyone who's seen anything. You good to go on this Ern?" Ernie nodded. Graeme looked stricken. Terry burped loudly.

"That's so disgusting Terry" said Charlene. She was holding both paws over her nose.

"Sorry. Shake Shack burger with garlic crème. From the trash can on 8th." Terry shrugged. I mean, what's a hungry Squirrel gonna do?

"It's still disgusting" said Perkie. Ike and Rambo sniggered.

Teddy looked at Milo as the exchange took place. "What do you think Milo? A great team, but totally dysfunctional?"

"Indeed Great Leader, that is true. Sometimes I think our collective effectiveness belies our collective IQ."

Ike nudged Rambo. "Belies!" Rambo chuckled.

"That's what sailors say" said Graeme. "My uncle's a sailor."

"No he's not" said Terry. "He's a gardener up in Beacon. He can't even swim. And the word you're thinking of is belays. It means to tie up the sails on a ship."

"No it don't" rasped Ike. "Well, it sort of does, but mostly we use it when we're tying off a rope, usually on a pin. Hence the term – belaying pin."

Terry burped again.

Milo looked down at Teddy and sighed. "I think we rest our case."

* * *

It was almost 6pm when the TTDA regrouped at the bottom of Abingdon Park, just across the road from the Bleecker Playground. They huddled together on a damp patch of grass under some dripping she-oaks, everyone wearing clear plastic ponchos, except for Charlene and Perkie of course. Charlene was wearing a purple poncho with hoodie over the top of her puffer, while Perkie's poncho had pink and yellow and black zebra stripes. Oh Perkie, I just love your colour palette. You too Charlie. I think purple is sooo sophisticated. Both Charlene and Perkie were also wearing purple Wellingtons with gaiters. Graeme was green with envy.

It had rained steadily all day, the clouds lowering over Manhattan and settling a wet darkness over the city, until the top floors of even small buildings were lost in a swirling fog. All around the traffic hissed by on wet pavements, car headlights shattering off pools of water, streetlights and traffic lights glowing orange and red and green in fuzzy blobs of colour. The sidewalks were filled with workers heading home, umbrellas bobbing and jostling at the intersections, and fencing with each other as people danced along the sidewalks, avoiding the puddles and the splashes from passing cars.

To be honest, it was all a bit miserable. The rain was freezing cold and sluicing down their necks and into their Wellies – all except Charlene's and Perkie's that is - and everyone was hungry. The only high point was that Teddy had anticipated this and brought along a selection of burgers, hot dogs, beignets, Oreos, Kongs, seeds and nuts, all wrapped in foil and bundled together in a foil lined picnic bag. This warmed the cockles of their little hearts as they clustered together under the trees, chirping, chomping, squeaking and burping. After a few minutes of food-focused myopia Teddy decided it was time for an update.

"Time for a heads-up" he said. "First up – I'll do the report for the Dogs. Milo and Perkie and I went to see the Bassets on Hudson." He pointed towards the north end of Abingdon Park with one paw. "You can almost see their house from here. We didn't spend a lot of time with them, because they were heading out again to search for the pups, but they were able to spare a half hour to tell us what they knew." Teddy flipped open his notebook and ran a finger down the page.

"The pups were taken on the evening of the 10th, three days ago. Mum and Dad Basset were watching a soapie and the pups were all wrapped up in bed. When Mum went to check the pups at about 9pm, they were gone. Dad Basset said that all hell broke loose. The cops came, the neighbours came, the fire brigade came, it was a circus. People went in all directions, search parties running up and down the streets for blocks, but they didn't find the pups. The only thing of interest was that a large black Hound with glowing eyes and jaws was reported by one of the search parties. This was dismissed by the police. The police and the Bassets have run regular searchs ever since, day and night, but it's three days and they've had no success. They're desperate."

"Where was the Hound seen?" asked Ernie. "Was it nearby?"

"It was seen nearby on Banks Street. Dad Basset said the search team picked it up near the playground and followed it down Banks until it disappeared. They think it was heading towards the river." Teddy looked at Milo and Perkie. "What did they say about the break-in?"

"They think the perp came in through the laundry. When the police arrived they checked all the doors and windows. The window in the laundry was broken."

"What was outside the laundry?" asked Rambo.

Teddy nodded thoughtfully. "Good question Splinter. The laundry backs into the green space behind the apartment. It's all trees and bushes and old furniture. It's messy and there's not many lights. It's dark as, so there's plenty of places to hide, or sneak about. It's the perfect setup for a thief." Teddy turned again to Milo and Perkie. "Was there anything else they mentioned?"

Milo and Perkie both shook their heads. "They didn't really have much for us T" said Milo.

Perkie shrugged and rolled her eyes. "They're hurting. We need to do what we can."

Teddy pointed to the Rats. "Splinter, you're up. You visited the other Basset family. What did they have to say?"

Rambo scrunched up his burger wrapper and lobbed it into a nearby trash can. He rubbed his paws together and gave his poncho a shake, showering Graeme with water drops. "Yep. We seen 'em. They live down behind the Lillipilli Bakery, three storey walk-up. They have four pups, including the two that were taken."

"When did it happen?" asked Teddy.

"The night before last" said Rambo. "Sounds similar to the other family. They'd had dinner, the kids were in bed, the parents chatting in the lounge. When they went to bed they checked the kids. Two were missing. Same outcome – major meltdown – cops, firies, ambos, neighbours, lot's of screaming. They also sent out search parties, but same again, no luck."

"Did they say what time the pups were taken?" asked Percy, flapping water off his wings. Pilsbury and Petunia sat beside him, small streams running off their ponchos, their beaks tipped with rain drops.

"About the same time. The perp struck around 9pm. We asked how they thought the perp was able to get into the house. Turns out they have a landing off a sunroom at the back, looks out into the gardens behind the building. Almost the same layout as the other family. The perp came in through the sunroom door. The pups' bedroom is right next door so it was an easy heist."

"Heist?" said Charlene.

"Ok. Theft then."

"Theft? Is that the best you can do?"

"Alright, alright. Abduction. Or maybe pup-nap?" Rambo and Ike slapped paws.

Charlene wasn't impressed. "This is serious you know."

"Yep. Got it" said Rambo.

Ernie had taken his spectacles off and was polishing the lenses with his handkerchief. "Did they find anything else?"

"They did. They found paw prints, very large paw prints. There were wet prints on the landing and in the hallway, and some grass was strewn about as well, probably from the gardens out the back. The Bassets said the prints were too smeared to identify, just that they were big."

"And the Hound, was it seen again?" Perkie looked pensive.

"Yes, it was, but it was earlier in the evening. One of the search parties came back and reported some Silkies had seen it in Bethune Street, around 8pm. But they didn't stick around to check where it went. One sight of the Hound and they lit out." Rambo sniffed.

"That's good Rambo" said Milo. "It all adds to the picture."

"How about you Ern? How did you go with the locals?" asked Teddy.

The Squirrels sat in a tight knot under the branches of the she-oak. Ernie's spectacles were misted up, Terry's Mohawk was wilting, and Graeme was wearing a particularly sad hang-dog look, which was quite a stretch for a Pigeon. Ernie took off his spectacles, rubbing the lenses again with his hanky.

"We did the rounds of the kitchen today, that's for sure. We spoke to the Afghans over near the river on West Street. We talked to the Dalmations on Jane, the Westies down on Perry, and the Silkies too. Everyone had the same story. They knew that the pups were stolen, but not much more. They'd all heard about the Hound, but no one had ever seen it. The Dalmations said the feedback was that the Hound was seen on Banks Street and on West Street, close by the old wharves."

"Hmm. That widens the search area a little further" said Teddy, frowning. "Anything else?"

"Nope" said Ernie. "Nothing else. But it was so wet we thought we'd have to swim back." Terry and Graeme both nodded sadly.

Teddy turned to the Pigeons. "Did you have any better luck at the 6th Perce?"

Percy was sitting scratching his beak with one wing. He had taken off his poncho but feathers were speckled with rain drops. Pilsbury had also taken off his poncho and was sitting munching contentedly on some mixed seeds. And Petunia's mascara had run. She looked a little like a Bandicoot. Or maybe a Panda having a bad day. Charlene passed her a tissue.

"No Boss, we didn't" said Percy. "Mickey was on the desk as usual. He said they've been doing door-knocks right through the burb. But no luck. Not a skerrick. He said they were starting to take the reports of the more seriously but that was it. I think the cops'll put some time in, maybe for a couple of days, but they're stretched. Mickey said they'd been blitzed with zillions of accidents. Lots of fender-benders on the slippery roads, bicycles in ditches, pedestrians in gutters. He said the ambos were being run ragged. And the weather keeps setting off fire alarms all over the south end so the firies are busy as well. No one has time for search parties. I think they've palmed the case off to the suits in the 13th, and those guys are so busy eating donuts it'll be a month before they come up for air." Percy sniffed loudly.

"That's cruel" said Ike, grinning fiendishly.

"Yeah, cruel" echoed Rambo.

Percy looked confused. Graeme rolled his eyes and swished his tail. "I love donuts" he sighed. Everyone ignored him.

Teddy scratched his head. "Well, it seems we don't have any more than we had this morning. The weather is obviously a big break for the perp. But it might also be our break. I reckon the perp, the Hound, whoever, won't be able to resist trying for another pup-nap in this weather. It's perfect. Dark, pouring rain, the cops and firies all distracted. Actually it's a perfect storm." Teddy grinned at Milo.

Milo cocked one eye. "Yeah Boss, a perfect storm indeed, though hardly an original thought."

"Well it sounds good."

"Are we going to have any dinner?" It was Terry.

"You've had dinner. Like about ten minutes ago" said Charlene.

"Yes. We had dinner. You ate the last burger Terry." Perkie was also unsympathetic.

"But it's ages" whined Terry.

"Enough, enough" said Teddy. "We have a job to do. You know we have a stake-out planned. You've all had dinner, you all have your whistles, and everyone has a thermos. It's filled with coffee from Flinders Street in East Village. It's top notch." He turned to Milo. "Milo. Let's see the map again."

Milo spread out the map on the wet grass and the team gathered round. The map was quickly spotted with rain drops. While Teddy briefed everyone on the upcoming operation, Percy used his hanky to wipe the map down every minute or so. Teddy quickly laid out the instructions for each group.

"Ok" he said. "Let's get set for the evening." He tapped the map with his paw. "We'll focus on Abingdon Park and the Bleecker Playground. I know it's a punt but we don't have the resources to cover the waterfront as well. Here, the corner of Jane and 8th, Perce, that's for your squad." Teddy slid his paw down the map, streaking the rain drops. He extended a finger. "Here, the corner of Perry and Bleecker, Ernie, that's for the Squirrels. All good?"

"AOK Kemo Sabe" said Ernie. Terry grinned and tried unsuccessfully to straighten his Mohawk. Graeme fidgeted.

"Pigeons? You're good for air cover as well?"

"Yep. We're good to go Boss. Pils will stay close by the corner of Jane. Me and Petunia will do the surveillance." chirped Percy, clapping his wings together. Pilsbury and Petunia did the same.

Teddy ran his paw further across the map. "Splinter. The Rats will do the corner of Washington and 11th. The Dogs will be two blocks north on Bethune. Now everyone take a close look at the map and check the sight lines. We're lucky this time, because the Village doesn't have a regular grid system and we'll be able to see each other pretty much at all times. And we'll also have all points of access to Abington Square and the playground in clear sight, plus open sight lines down the surrounding streets. Our only downside is the weather. It's pouring rain and foggy, and the lights in the Village are poor. It's not a good night for surveillance so keep your wits about you and your eyes open."

"That's a long speech Oh Mighty One" mused Milo.

"I haven't finished yet" said Teddy. "Whatever you do maintain silence until you see the Hound. Only then do you sound your whistle. Two blasts only. The squad that sights the Hound will maintain station but on the signal the other teams will move quickly to the top of Bleecker Playground. Once they've hooked up they'll sound two more blasts. This will signal their intent to move towards the team on station. Except the Pigeons of course. They'll maintain aerial surveillance." Teddy cast his eyes around. "Everyone capice?"

There was a chorus of affirmation.

"Ok. Let's rock 'n roll."

"To the barricades" yelled Ike.

Rambo laughed. "Liberty, equality, fraternity" he shouted.

"Good Lord" said Milo.

Teddy shook his head.

Petunia burped.

Graeme looked frightened.

* * *

By 7pm everyone was in position. The Dogs were on the corner of Bethune, the Rats further south along 11th, the Squirrels on Bleecker, and Pils crouched in a tree near the corner of Jane Street. Percy and Petunia circled above.

It was a miserable evening. The rain wasn't that heavy, but then it never really stopped either. It just kept drizzling, filling the air with floating drops of water that captured the lights from cars and shop-fronts, creating fractured curtains of colour that flashed across the sides of buildings and flared as the cars passed by. The rain had saturated everything and everyone and there was little traffic and few pedestrians. At least Percy had issued goggles to the Pigeons before takeoff, so they were able to see as they circled the target area. Just imagine! No goggles? We'd be, like, totally flying blind! Petunia was particularly happy about the goggles, they protected her mascara after all, but Percy felt that he was having an out-of-body experience, whatever that was. Every time he looked down, what with the rain, the lights and the reflections, he felt like he was looking through a kaleidoscope. Ay caramba!

Time seemed to slow down, as it always does on a stake-out. Five minutes seems like an hour, an hour seems like a year. And when it's dark and raining, well, that's another story altogether. As the night worn on there were less and less cars and even fewer pedestrians. The streets were now all but empty. But at 8.30pm the case broke wide open. Suddenly the air rang with two shrill blasts of a whistle. It was the Dogs. On Bethune. They'd spotted the Hound. The TTDA sprang into action.

The Pigeons quickly zeroed in on the Dogs while the other squads made their way to the top of the Bleecker Playground where they joined up. Ernie gave two blasts on the whistle to notify the Dogs they were on their way and they set out along Bethune. Two blocks ahead they saw the flicker of a torch and heard two faint blasts on the whistle in response. Pils joined the Squirrels and the Rats in the playground but quickly fluttered back into the air and flew off to join Percy and Petunia, who were now crouched in the low branches of a willow near the corner of Bethune and 11th. The Dogs were clustered together under the willow, the drooping foliage giving little protection from the rain. Only minutes after sounding the whistle they were joined by the Squirrels and the Rats. Everyone huddled together in a tight group. The Pigeons clung to the branches above.

"We've sighted the Hound" said Teddy in a low voice. He pointed one paw along Bethune towards the Hudson. "We think it came in off West Street. It came along Bethune towards us, but we think it must have seen us because it stopped then turned and disappeared back into West Street. It may have been heading north, but there are several underpasses on the Parkway. It could just as easily be somewhere along the side of the river. We'll need to be quick otherwise we're going to lose it. Perce, could you take your squad up and see if you can tag it. Call the team in if you do."

"Roger that' chirped Percy as he and Pilsbury and Petunia fluttered into the air. They quickly disappeared into the rain and darkness towards the river.

Teddy waved his paw. "Let's go" he said. "Splinter, could you take the other side of the street? Ernie, could you and Terry and Graeme shoot up along 12th? We'll meet on the corner of 12th and West."

Rambo and Ernie nodded assent. The Rats ran quickly to the other side of Bethune. The Squirrels scampered off up Washington Avenue and disappeared around the corner into West 12th Street. Teddy tapped his forehead with his right index claw. "Let's move out."

All the squads moved quickly along their allotted routes towards the river. They were optimistic, but they knew also that the riverside was a tangle of run down buildings, worn roads and rutted tracks, dilapidated wharves, and old utility and foot tunnels. If the Hound disappeared down this 'rabbit-hole' they might never see it again.

"It's a labyrinth in there you know" said Terry, as the Squirrels trotted along West 12th.

"Is that where people do experiments?" squeaked Graeme.

"No G-man, that's a laboratory. A labyrinth is...well...it's sort of like a tangle of stuff, you know, you get in there and you can't find your way out. Like a maze sort of."

"Amazed? Are we amazed?"

"No, it's a maze. I'll show you when we get there."

Meanwhile the Pigeons had picked up the scent. Well, the sight really. As they swooped low over the Parkway, a stilted expressway that ran alongside the river, Pilsbury saw a flicker of green light near the edge of an overpass. It was the Hound, moving through the darkness in a misty green halo. The Pigeons turned towards the river, flying low to better see through the drizzle. The traffic on the Parkway was throwing up a cloud of spray. It hung in the air, a soft golden mist in the lights of the cars. The moving headlights reflected off the wet tarmac, mixing with the pulsing greens, red and yellows of the traffic lights on the cross streets. It was a swirl of colours and easy to get confused, that's for sure, but Pils had the eyes of a Hawk. Well, that's what he always said. And Petunia always reminded him that he was a Pigeon.

Percy coasted over closer to the others. "I think we need to get ahead of it" he said. "It looks like it's heading north along the river, so let's get up along the Parkway, maybe up around Jane. Pils, could you go and round up the others, bring them up to the corner of Jane and West? Right opposite Pier 51. They'll know where you mean." Pils chirped once and was gone in a second.

Percy and Petunia floated above the edge of the Parkway, their goggles misted up, their feathers streaming, but their eyes sharp and beady. "There" said Petunia breathlessly. "There it is." They watched as a ghostly form appeared from a foot tunnel under the Parkway.

"That's so freaky" said Percy.

The Hound stopped, its head turning slowly from side to side. Even though they were barely one hundred feet above the roadway both Pigeons gasped as they saw the green dripping jaws, the hollow red eyes, the streaks of gold and green along its shoulders and back. The Hound was enormous. And scary. It gave a shake of its mighty head, then turned and ran quickly along the side of the Parkway, moving north towards Pier 51. The Pigeons followed, but after flying for so long in the rain and mist both Percy and Petunia were beginning to tire. They'd been circling for ages and their feathers were completely soaked. They had to flap harder and harder to stay in the air.

The Pigeons followed the Hound along the edge of the river until it reached a small area of open ground behind Pier 51, a vacant lot strewn with plastic bags and pieces of rusted steel. The Hound stopped for a moment at the edge of the lot. It seemed to be checking for danger. On the opposite side of the lot the old pier jutted out into the Hudson River. It was an earthen pier, built in the early 1800s. To construct the pier, hundreds of of long timber piles had been driven deep into the mud of the river, creating an enclosed dam. The dam was filled with earth and rock and tamped down hard to make a firm base. The hard packed earth was then covered in a thick layer of concrete. The pier spent many decades taking deliveries of coal for the factories along the Lower West Side before morphing into a supplier of coal to the Manhattan power stations in 1910. But it was many decades since any coal tender had docked at the pier and it had long fallen into disuse, and its concrete stands had been repaired and relaid so many times that the surface resembled a moonscape. There were still some old buildings along its length, but these were, literally, falling apart. There was another cluster of small buildings, set on the edge of the river, maybe a hundred yards north of the Pier. They were really only wooden sheds, all leaning sideways into the black water, the timber doors and windows scaly and broken, the tin roofs cratered with rust. The Hound was headed straight for them.

* * *

It was just after 9pm when the team regrouped on the corner of Jane Street. The Parkway loomed above them, the yellow spill of light from the sodium lamps bathing everyone in a sickly radiance and casting deep impenetrable shadows under the roadway. The rain had stopped but the steady hiss of tyres on wet tarmac hung in the air. In nearby drains the rainwater gurgled as it rushed to the river. Through the underpasses beneath the expressway they could see the faint reflection of the lights of the Jersey shore, bouncing off the surface of the river in dimples of red and blue and white.

"Ok Perce, what's the intel?" asked Teddy.

"We followed it to Pier 51" said Percy. "There's a run-down industrial site just north of the pier. That's where it went. But it's a real mess, so if we're going in we'll have to be careful. There's rubbish everywhere. And it looks like it's flooded as well."

"I know the area. It's an old navy yard. And you're right about being careful. It could be a rabbit warren in there." Teddy pursed his lips and looked around at the team. "Now everyone needs to listen up. We've caught a lucky break again. This may be the Hound's hideout. So everyone stick close together and keep your torches ready. But no lights unless I call it. Got it?" There were nods all round. "Percy, can you maintain station over the top of the site? Whistle us in if you see anything."

"Roger that Boss." The Pigeons lifted into the air and flew off towards the river. The rest of the team followed slowly, moving across West Street and into the underpass, their toenails and claws clicking lightly on the surface of the road. But when they emerged on the riverside near Pier 51 the paved surface changed immediately to sandy loam, then just as suddenly to thick glutinous mud. It coated their paws and claws and legs with a layer of black sludge. Even Milo was struggling. It didn't take long for Graeme to start grunting and whining.

"I've got mud on my Breitling" he moaned.

"Deal with it Pocahontas" rasped Ike.

Teddy was leading the way and he stopped and look around. "Is everyone deaf? What did I just say? Keep it quiet for Pete's sake. I know it's hard going but it's only a few yards."

"You heard the man" rumbled Milo softly. "Graeme. Get with the program." Graeme sniffed, his bottom lip trembling.

Charlene leaned over to Perkie. "It's ruined my nails" she whispered. Perkie nodded glumly. "Mine too."

"One last time" growled Teddy. "Quiet!"

Up ahead they could see a cluster of sheds at the edge of the river. 'Run down?' Blimey! That's an understatement.

"Those shacks look like they're going to fall into the river" said Perkie, wiping mud off her paws.

"Just as long as they don't do it while we're inside" said Ernie.

"Are we going inside?" Graeme squeaked, his voice reedy and breaking.

"If that's where the Hound is, then that's where we're going" said Teddy. Graeme started shaking. Perkie patted his shoulder.

The team moved closer to the nearest shed. It was little more than a one-room shanty. Its roof was crooked and rusted, the timber walls cracked and split. It many places the boards had separated from the frame of the shed, hanging in twisted webs and creating dark openings into the building. Cheap plastic sheeting fluttered in the empty windows. At the front of the shanty there was a short verandah and a single doorway. There was no door. The supports for the verandah had also rotted away, or maybe had simply descended into the deep mud of the riverbank, leaving the front half of the structure tilted precariously towards the water.

For a long while everyone stood motionless in the mud, their eyes wandering across the twisted structure, their ears pricked, their eyes staring intently. But there were no lights and no movements. The only sounds were the soft moan of the river flowing by and, more distant, the rumble of traffic and the swish of tyres from the Parkway.

Teddy lifted a paw, about to call the team forward to check the inside of the shed, when an urgent whisper came from Charlene.

"Over there" she gasped. "The third shed! Look! Look at the bottom of the third shed!"

Everyone turned quickly and there were several gasps. There was also a small cry of dismay as Graeme fell over in the mud. At the base of the third shed they could see a pale green glow. It came from inside the shed and, as they watched, the light moved from one end of the building to the other, the green glow briefly flaring and fading as it moved behind the broken walls.

The Hound!

* * *

It was at least another fifty yards to the Hound's shed, all mud and rotted steel drums, large pieces of equipment, unrecognizable and encrusted with rust, some decaying trash cans and even a couple of rusted bicycles, their wheels sticking up out of the mud, the spokes draped with weeds and frayed plastic bags. Teddy shook his head as he gazed around. Heck it was a dreary place, but maybe it was also the perfect place for a Haunted Hound. Teddy was a little skeptical about the 'haunted' part. Sure, the Hound had dripping jaws and glowing eyes, but it was still a Hound. Wasn't it? Or maybe was it a ghost? He didn't think so, but at the same time he was hedging his bets. If it was a ghost then they would need to beat a hasty retreat. But through this mud? It didn't bear thinking about. Then a thought occurred to him. How did the Hound get about when it left the shed? If it was a ghost then of course it would probably float through the air. That's what all ghosts did. The sticky mud and rubbish wouldn't matter. But if it was really only a hound, and not a ghost, then it would need to have some way to move to and fro easily. And from what Percy had said, the Hound didn't appear to be doing much floating. It was walking or running like everyone else. So how did it get in and out across the mud? Teddy cast his eyes around.

There were few lights on the river side of the Parkway, and none at all around Pier 51. For the most part it was pitch dark apart from the glow coming from the lights of the expressway. Every now and then he saw the pale whirl of the Pigeons as they circled the pier and surrounding area, but they were mostly lost in the gloom, just the faintest of white flashes in the dull reflected light off the river. Then Teddy spotted it, faint in the darkness, a slim pale reflection leading from the shed across the mud towards the base of the expressway. He would never have seen it if the rain hadn't stopped. It was a roughly patched pathway of boards, probably taken from the sides of the other shanties, laid in groups of three or four and set end to end across the mud from the shed to the grassy verge below the Parkway. So this was how the Hound came and went! Teddy quickly judged the distances. The shed was at least fifty yards north, the pathway just a little further to the north-east, but it was a no-brainer. They would make their way over and climb onto the pathway, then make their way to the shed. Any problems and it was a speedy retreat up the path to safety. There really wasn't an alternative.

But it did present some difficulties. The boardwalk was narrow, maybe not even two feet wide. A mud covered TTDA team, creeping along the boardwalk in a pack, really wasn't going to work. He held up a paw.

"Hold up" he whispered. He pointed to the boardwalk. "Over there" he said. "There's a wooden boardwalk between the sheds and the shore. That how the Hound comes and goes. That's our way in. It's also our way out. Just in case."

"Just in case?" came a squeaky fearful voice. It was Graeme. "In case of what?"

"Ghosts Doughboy, ghosts." Ike cackled and slapped paws with Rambo.

"Ghosts!" Graeme's voice rose several octaves. Ike sniggered.

"Well it does glow in the dark. And it's got red eyes and stuff" said Perkie.

"Yeah" said Rambo. "Red eyes. And green slime was dripping off its jaws."

"When did you get close enough to see that?" asked Terry in an aggrieved tone.

"A ghost!" gasped Graeme again. He started to sob.

Milo looked at Teddy and blew out his cheeks. "Crikey Boss, we're goners."

"No we aren't" said Teddy in a firm voice, even if it was only a whisper. "We don't know for sure what we're facing. Sure, it has glowing jaws and red eyes and it hides in a dark shed in a creepy spot on the river, but is it a ghost? I doubt it. But the only way we find out for sure is we go and look. So it's over to the boardwalk, then softly softly over to the shed. If there's any danger, any doubt, we can hi-tail it back along the boardwalk. Ok?"

There was a glum silence, apart from Graeme's sobs, which by now had morphed into hiccups.

"I'll take that as a yes" said Teddy. "But first we need to split up. Twelve of us together is unwieldy. Ernie, could you take your squad to the end of the boardwalk near the Parkway. Call the Pigeons in, and between you keep an eye on the start of the boardwalk and also provide cover to each side." Ernie nodded and the Squirrels began to flounder across the muddy ground towards the end of the boardwalk.

Teddy watched their progress. He saw the faint flutter of the Pigeons as they descended out of the gloom and joined the Squirrels. He cut his eyes at Milo and Rambo. It was time.

"Let's roll."

* * *

The Dogs and Rats waded through the mud and eventually pulled themselves up onto the boardwalk. The rain had returned and visibility was so poor that Teddy couldn't see the landside end of the boardwalk at all. And he could barely see the entry to the shanty, even though he was only thirty feet away.

Everyone was covered in mud. It coated their legs right past their knees and it was all over their forearms and ponchos. And it weighed a ton. No way could they sneak up on the Hound in this state. So they spent a minute or so scraping the mud off in slimy lumps. The steady downpour made it easier to scrape the heavy goo from their legs and feet. Charlene's and Perkie's Wellies were the worst, but at last they were ready to move on the shanty. Teddy held a finger to his lips.

"Move slow, move quiet" he whispered. "Two wide. There's just enough room."

The Dogs and Rats began to creep along the boardwalk, moving slowly towards the door to the run down shack. Teddy and Milo were in the lead, followed by Perkie and Charlene, with Ike and Rambo in the rear. Behind the gaps in the walls they could see the glow flaring and fading as the Hound moved back and forth. As they reached the slanted steps at the door of the shack Teddy held up a paw, one finger in the air. For a long minute they stood silent and motionless, listening and watching, but the shack was silent. Even the green glow seemed to have disappeared. The wind had also picked up, whipping scraps of plastic against their legs and peppering their faces with icy rain. The only sounds were those of the wind coursing through the buildings and rattling loose sheets of roofing and wall panels, the hiss of the rain pattering on their ponchos and the rusty tin roof, and the soft creak of old timbers as the shanty leaned into the wind.

Now that they were up close by the side of the shanty they could see that it was in much better condition than it appeared from a distance. Many of the boards in the walls had been reset and there was a sprinkle of shining nail heads visible down each side of the front door. The door had also been repaired. A bright strip of wood ran through the middle of the door, as if a plank had been replaced. There was also a new wooden latch, a slider, securing the door to the frame. Teddy and Milo exchanged glances. Someone had definitely been working on the shanty, and they wouldn't be doing that the if they weren't planning to use it. It was looking like Action Stations!

Teddy held up two fingers and he and Milo crept forward, Teddy's paw reaching for the latch, but just as his fingers closed around the handle a huge burst of wind struck the shack. The rusty iron roof rattled and clanged and the timbers creaked and groaned. But worst of all, Teddy stumbled, and fell against the wooden steps with a heavy thump. He scrambled up quickly and they all froze. Maybe the Hound wouldn't notice sound of the fall. Maybe it would be lost in the wind and rain. Yeah! Sure! And maybe ice-cream wouldn't melt in the sun. Well this time there was gonna be no such luck. They were about to find out that the jig was up.

Big time!

* * *

Suddenly the door of the shanty flew open with a crash, a shimmering green light spilling out across the Dogs and Rats. And standing in the doorway was the monster from hell, its eyes glowing red and angry, its jaws dripping a golden-green slime, its coat streaked with glowing bars of green and red and gold. It was the Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village. Perkie screamed and fell over backwards. Rambo and Ike shouted in alarm. Charlene froze. Teddy and Milo instinctively stepped back.

As they stared at the horrible apparition before them, the apparition stared back. No one moved for a long moment, the only sounds the rain, the wind and the rattle of loose metal sheets on the roof of the shanty. Then, with a loud rumbling roar the Hound bounded out of the doorway, throwing Milo to one side and sending Teddy tumbling into the mud with a yell. It rushed past Perkie and Charlene, who shrieked as one, then shouldered Rambo and Ike aside violently as it rushed along the walkway.

"Ostorozhno!" yelled Rambo as he tumbled aside.

"Blimey!" shouted Ike.

The Hound was enormous, its huge paws thumping on the duckboards as it ran along the boardwalk towards the shore. Teddy scrambled back onto the walkway, his trench coat covered in mud. He could hear the shouts of the Pigeons and Squirrels come faintly on the icy air as the Hound bore down on them. He called out to the Rats and the other Dogs.

"Quick. Form a line across the path. The Squirrels and Pigeons have it trapped. It's going to come racing back down here in a second."

The Dogs and Rats squeezed together to form two lines across the boardwalk. They heard shouts and shrieks coming from the shoreline. Then they saw the ghostly glow of the Hound as it turned and began to run back towards them. The rain had eased off completely but a thin mist had risen from the river, creeping across the mudflats and between the rusty buildings, curling cold fingers of damp across their faces and down the backs of their necks. And through the mist, glowing in green and red and coming ever closer, the Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village.

"It's comin' back" howled Ike.

"It's a monster" shrieked Charlene.

"It's a Dog" shouted Teddy.

"Hold firm" bellowed Milo. "It can't get through."

With arms locked together and paws firmly grasping each others belts and braces the Dogs and the Rats 'held firm" as the ghostly vision came ever closer. The Hound wasn't going to get past them. No way! Or was it? Well, it couldn't go around them, too much mud. But maybe it could go over them...or maybe even through them.

Oh no!

* * *

But the Hound came to a screeching halt before it reached the line of Dogs and Rats. It stood there only a few feet away, gasping and panting madly, coat heaving, bright green maw gaping, head moving slowly from side to side. A bright green slime dripped from its fangs, its eyes were red, weeping gold and orange streaks across its cheeks, its coat slashed with bands of gold and green and yellow. Suddenly the Hound threw back its head and howled into the misty darkness.

Perkie and Charlene shrieked with horror. Even Ike and Rambo jumped with fright.

While Ike and Rambo and Charlene and Perkie stood frozen and awestruck by the apparition, Teddy and Milo were unmoved. Teddy turned his head slowly to Milo. "It's a Dog" he whispered, cutting his eyes between Milo and the Hound. "It's just a Dog. I think it's a Collie."

Milo stared at the Hound. "No, I don't think it's a Collie T. I think it's a Black Labrador." He was silent for a moment as if waiting, but neither the Hound nor any of the TTDA team said anything. And no one moved.

Teddy studied the Hound. It was huge, no doubt about it, but not so huge as to be any larger than Milo. In fact, it wasn't even as large as Milo, but it was very hairy, and the glowing streaks of red and green and gold made it look even larger. And those jaws! Heck! And maybe it was a Black Lab, just an extra big one. Then he saw that the Hound was studying him as he studied it. He decided to chance it.

"Who are you?" he asked. There was a gasp from Perkie and a grunt from Ike.

The Hound didn't say anything for quite a long time. It stared at Teddy silently, green slime still dripping from its jaws which, thankfully, were now closed. Teddy opened his mouth to ask again when the Hound spoke.

"My name is Kim. Who are you?"

"We're the Tomkins Tap Detective Agency." Rambo butted in. "We're searchin' for lost pups."

"Hi Kim" said Teddy. "What Rambo said is correct. We are a detective agency, and we are looking for lost pups. You may have heard. Some Basset families have had their pups taken."

"A detective agency? Seriously? But why are you here? Are you looking for me?" Kim's voice was strangely soft and deep.

"Yeah, well, you were seen near the crime scenes. It was suggested you coulda been the perp." Ike could be blunt sometimes.

"Crime scenes? Perp? Have you guys been watching too much TV?"

"Well, that's the lingo Kim. And we were looking for you. There were reports that a ghostly Hound had been seen when the abductions took place. We didn't have any other leads and we hoped that you might be able to help us."

"Abductions! That sounds terrible. I just borrowed them for a little while." Kim sat down on the deck and stared at Teddy and Milo, then hung her head. She looked dejected.

Just then there was a rattle from the wooden boardwalk and a flutter of wings as the Squirrels and Pigeons arrived. There was a loud bustle and some pushing and shoving as they squashed up behind Kim. Then there was a shrill squeal and a glutinous plopping sound as a body fell into the mud.

"No prizes for guessing that one" said Rambo, sniffing loudly.

"I'm getting a bit tired of these theatrics" huffed Charlene. Rambo and Ike sniggered and high-fived each other.

"Go ahead Kim" said Teddy, ignoring the theatrics.

"Yeah, tell us why you're wearin' all that paint. You tryin' ta scare everyone?"

Kim nodded. "It was me" she said. "And yes, I was trying to scare everyone. The family next door, the Spaniels, they moved out ages ago, and I've been living here alone for almost a year. It's terrible. I used to babysit their pups all the time and I really miss them. I just wanted to have some pups to babysit. I was going to give them back."

"But where are the pups?" rumbled Milo. There was a rumble of from the rest of the group. Yeah. Where were the pups?

Kim lifted a gold streaked paw and pointed to the shanty. "The pups are inside. All four of them. They're sleeping, so please try to keep the noise down."

"Maybe we should take a look" said Teddy. Kim nodded and made her way towards the shanty. The Dogs and Rats parted to let her through. Meanwhile there was a lot of grunting and gulping and plopping sounds coming from darkness beside the boardwalk. As Kim led the way to the door of the shanty she turned her head to Teddy and Milo.

"Trouble in the ranks?"she asked.

Teddy grinned. "No more than usual." He motioned to Ernie.

"Ern. Could you help him out please?"

* * *

The whole team followed Kim into the shanty, stepping into a small room lit with candles and smelling sweetly of incense. Everyone was saturated and spotted with mud, particularly Teddy and Graeme. Teddy's trench coat had black goo all along the hem and Graeme was literally covered in mud. He was banished to stand near the front door.

The guttering candles bathed everyone in a flickering golden light but cast dark shadows into the corners of the room. In the light of the candles Kim's painted coat of gold and red, and her glowing jaws and red-rimmed eyes, suddenly took on the look of a carnival clown. Suddenly the Hound didn't look so frightening. Suddenly she looked simply...well...clownish...and lonely. Teddy felt a sudden burst of sympathy. He cast his eyes around the room.

"Nice joint" he said.

And it was. The windows were covered in thick dark curtains, keeping the light in and prying eyes out. The floor had several throw rugs, each woven in geometric patterns with tassels at each end. There were two large sofas and an ottoman. And through the narrow door at the end of the room they could see a small kitchen with hot plates and a small fridge. Everyone grunted approvingly.

"I love your rugs" said Charlene.

Kim smiled and nodded in thanks. "My Nanna gave them to me" she said.

"My Nanna makes rugs" said Graeme.

"No she doesn't" said Terry. "She makes jugs. She's a potter". Graeme looked perplexed.

Ike gave Graeme the once-over. "Yo Doughboy! You look like a choc-chip cookie."

Graeme did indeed look like a choc-chip cookie. The only thing missing was the coconut sprinkles. He looked down at his gum-boots. "My wellies are full of gunk" he said glumly. "But I'd love a choc-chip cookie. Or a cupcake."

"No sweat" said Ike with uncharacteristic kindness. "We'll clean you up in a sec."

Charlene beamed at Ike who began to redden up.

"Just sayin'" he said.

"But where are the pups?" interrupted Ernie.

"Yo. The pups" said Rambo, pointing to the corner of the room opposite the front door, where, hidden in the shadows under the curtains, was a large cardboard box. A doona had been placed inside the box, and nestled in the doona were four plump sleeping Basset pups.

"Oooohhhh!" breathed Perkie. "They're beautiful."

"They're so cute" sighed Charlene.

Everyone crowded around the pups' box, except Graeme, who hovered near the front door, dropping large glops of muck onto the floor.

"They look pretty happy" observed Teddy.

"They do indeed Oh Great One" rumbled Milo.

"They'll have to go home Kim" said Teddy, looking at Kim with a serious look on his face.

Kim nodded in resignation. "Yes. I know. I was always going to take them home. I just wanted to spend some time with them. I love babysitting."

"I understand, but they have to go home. How's about we get this show on the road and get the pups back to their mums and dads? I think everyone's going to be very pleased."

They made their way back along the boardwalk, each of the pups wrapped in a warm shawl and carried by Perkie, Charlene, Kim and Terry. Beneath them the boardwalk rattled and shook as they tramped along, and tendrils of icy mist still curled around them, blurring the lights of Manhattan and muffling the sounds of the traffic on the Parkway. It had been long day and everyone was tired, wet and muddy. It would be good to finish the job and get home to the apartment, or cubby, or treehouse, or rathole, or wherever. Just as long as there was a warm bath, clean clothes, comfy slippers, and a big soft armchair to sit in. And hot chocolate too! Pul-ease!

As the team and Kim made their way towards the Bassett's homes in Greenwich Village, Teddy reflected on the case. Yet another one solved and, as with all the other cases, solved quickly. He wondered for a second if he was making the job harder than it needed to be. But he quickly dismissed this thought. It had been a very good couple of weeks. They had solved all the cases in record time. No doubt about it. And yes, he had to admit, they had been lucky. Each time they'd managed to pick the right time, or the right place, to catch a break and solve the case. The Tompkins Tap Detective Agency had started out with a bang. Teddy vowed to himself that he would absolutely make sure its successes continued.

# Now what?

Two days later the TTDA reconvened in Tomkins Park. The team met in the usual place between the Little Dog Run and the picnic tables. It was a clear sunny morning but the late autumn sun had little warmth. Tompkins Park was glowing with the colours of autumn, the trees in the park burnished in flashes of yellow and brown and crimson. But the weather was cooling and the icy fingers of winter were curling around ankles and collars.

Perkie, Petunia and Charlene had rugged themselves up against the chill and sat together next to the picnic tables. The three female members of the TTDA were all looking very pleased with themselves. Perks was wearing her purple puffer, matched with a purple/aqua Pashmina and purple eye-liner. She also wore a fluffy beanie in bright pink that matched her lipstick. She was sharing Iced VoVos with Charlene and Petunia. Charlene sat next to Perkie wearing a new Moncler down coat, buttoned high, and sunglasses with blue and silver frames. The silver matched her earrings. She was staring intently at Ike's toenails. Petunia crouched close alongside Charlene, her toenails painted a bright blue that contrasted nicely with her pink legs and feet and matched the blue stripes on her wings. She'd also changed the silver ring on her right ankle and now had a lovely silver and gold watch instead. Her beady black eyes flickered as she munched on the Iced VoVos.

But this had upset the usual seating order. Rambo, Ike and Graeme were sitting next to the Little Dog Run. Rambo had shaved and combed his hair and tied up his man-bun. He was wearing a dark blue beret and had a copy of Albert Camus 'Myth of Sisyphus' under his arm. Ike had also spruced up. Like Rambo he'd shaved and combed his hair. He was wearing his Sarsparillos waistcoat and, sacre bleu!, he'd cleaned and cut his toenails. No wonder Charlene was so fascinated. Graeme sat between Ike and Rambo, his cheeks full. He was wearing his new Canada Goose bomber jacket in camouflage print and brown aviator sunglasses in gold frames. His Breitling was gleaming and he held a red velvet cupcake in each claw. C'est paradis!

Teddy and Milo were sitting with their backs to the bitumen path. Teddy had cleaned his trench coat and put on some black framed MIB sunnies. Lookin' good Boss! Anna had also made him take a bath and a blow dry. To be honest, he was a bit embarrassed. He thought he looked a bit like a fluffy dandelion, though it did feel good to be cleaned up after all the mud. Milo was also dressed up. His coat had been washed and combed and he was wearing a navy beret and a blue and white striped T-shirt. Tres chic mon ami! Pilsbury crouched between them, his wings clasped across his tummy. As usual it looked like Pils was dozing.

The Squirrels and Percy sat opposite Teddy and Milo. Ernie was chewing on his claws and blinking through his thick round spectacles. Terry squatted next to Ernie. He'd tidied up his Mohawk and it stood high above his head, coloured in stripes of blue and orange. Terry said he was following the Knicks this year. He had two bags on the concrete pad in front of him, both from Ray's, one filled with beignets, the other with deep fried Oreos. It was obvious he couldn't decide where to start. Percy sat on the other side of Terry. He was wearing his red bracelet on his left ankle and munching on broken crackers in a small cardboard bowl. Every now and then he held the bowl out so that Ernie and Terry could help themselves.

Teddy cast his eye over the team. Everyone had a cup of coffee, all from the 9th Street Espresso, and nearly everyone was munching away happily on various treats. He thought they all looked very smart. Everyone had cleaned up remarkably after the messy adventure on the banks of the Hudson. It looked like there'd been quite a few visits to the barber or the spa plus a whole lot of retail therapy.

But this was a formal meeting and there was a hefty agenda to get through. Apart from a summing up on the Haunted Hound case there was a whole raft of new cases that Perkie wanted to talk about. This was good news of course, but each case would require careful planning and dedicated resources. Teddy turned to Perkie.

"Perks. Are you ready to kick off? I think we've all read the agenda."

"All ready Boss. First item is a recap on the Haunted Hound case. Over to you and Milo."

"Ok" said Teddy. "Let's review the Haunted Hound of Greenwich Village. As I said before, well done everyone. Thanks to solid teamwork we solved the case in only two days. And I should say a particular thanks to the Pigeons. If it hadn't been for their 'eagle-eyes' it might have been days before we found the Hound. Maybe never." Teddy hesitated. "You know, I should call her Kim. She really was very nice."

"She's lovely" said Petunia. "We had a lovely chat." Charlene and Perks nodded approvingly.

"Yes" said Teddy. "Lovely indeed. And now well settled in the apartment directly above the Bassets on 11th Street. She does all the babysitting for both the 11th Street Bassets and the Abingdon Square Bassets." He hesitated and frowned. "Do you think I should I call it puppy-sitting?"

"Don't think it matters" grunted Rambo.

"Uh uh!" said Ernie. "Any of those is good."

Teddy continued. "Well, after Milo and I took the pups back the Bassets they were very kind to Kim. They understood how lonely it must be for her, living in the dark over there on the mudflats near the Hudson. So they arranged for her to move into the apartment on the floor above. They met with the Abingdon Bassets and explained everything. And the Bassets even helped Kim move. Kim said they did it all in less than a morning."

"That's such a nice ending" said Charlene. "I'm glad the pups are home and I'm glad that Kim is happy too. It was a bit creepy on the riverbank."

Terry's Mohawk was quivering. "It sure was" he said. "I thought we were gonna see a ghost." At the mention of a ghost Graeme stopped eating and started hiccupping. But before he could say anything Percy chirped to attract Teddy's attention.

"Boss. What about all that glowing jaws and red eyes and all that slimy green stuff? Did you ask Kim about that?"

"Sure did Perce. Kim said she did it to scare people away. That way she could pick up the pups and carry them back to her place without being stopped." Teddy shook his head. "We're all a bit superstitious I guess. A dark night and some flickering lights and we're all running for the hills."

Ike nodded. "It was pretty effective" he rasped. "But how did she do it? Was it some sort of paint or something?"

"Spot on Ike. Kim said she bought a bunch of 'glow-in-the-dark' texta pens at one of the Halloween stores on Bowery. They have special 'glow-jello' slime pens. She said she used these on her mouth and round her eyes. She used the ordinary ones to paint her coat and her paws." This brought a lot of umhing and arrhing from the team. Just imagine! Slime pens! Amazing!

Teddy turned to Milo. "Was there anything else Milo?"

Milo frowned. "Only that we had to pay a visit to Spud over at the 13th to paper things over. It was still a live case for the cops. We had to convince them that it had been solved. Spud was a bit grumpy but we had the Bassets with us and together we convinced him to drop the case. He told us to keep him better informed in future."

Teddy nodded and pursed his lips. "Yep. That's a lesson learned. We'll need to keep that in mind. I think the other key lesson is that we operate better as smaller teams. Most of our cases we solved this way. But we had so many of us on the Haunted Hound case that we tripped over each other a little. On the other hand the full team worked well for the Petsville heist. It's probably going to be a case-by-case arrangement in future. Maybe we should also consider mixing up the squads a little. What does everyone think?"

There was a general rumble of agreement. Milo was tapping his chin and looking pensive. "I think you're right Oh Great One. Case-by-case is the way to go. And I like the idea of mixed teams. Our aerial surveillance was a big winner." There was another rumble of agreement.

"Okey dokey" said Teddy, turning to Perkie. "Did you get all that Perks?"

"Yep. If that's all for the recap I'm ready to go through the next item on the agenda – the new cases." This brought a hubbub of chirps and squeals and hiccups and an air of anticipation. Perkie ran her finger down the page.

"Believe it or not we've had six new cases registered in the past seven days. Teddy and I did the interviews yesterday and we think the TTDA should accept all of them."

"Gosh!" exclaimed Pilsbury. "Six! How can we manage six?"

"Well clearly we can't do them all at once" humphed Teddy. "But we've discussed smaller teams, mixed teams, aerial surveillance and so on – we've had to prioritise."

Pils didn't say anything but he raised his eyebrows, his beady eyes blinking rapidly. Milo didn't look convinced either. Teddy gestured to Perkie.

"Run us through the cases Perks."

"Ok. Like Teddy said we've prioritized the cases and given each one a title. I'll start with number one – we've called this one Busted Eatin' the Custard. Seems that someone has been pilfering all the banana cream at the Lillipilli Bakery. This is very serious. All the hipsters in Manhattan are up in arms."

"I'll take that one." It was Graeme with a high-pitched squeak.

"No way" said Ike. "That's like puttin' Dracula in charge of the Blood Bank." But he put his arm on Graeme's shoulder.

Rambo burst out laughing. Even Charlene smiled.

"What?" said Graeme.

"We'll worry about allocations later" said Teddy. "Perks?"

"The second case on the list is Shakedown at the Spa. You know the one, over in West Village, it's called Buzz-cuts & Blow-drys. Caters mainly for Dogs. Problem is all the collars have been disappearing while clients are in the spa. Management thinks it's an inside job so we'll have to go undercover."

"Oh, me please" quipped Charlene.

"Me too" said Petunia.

Percy looked at Charlene and Petunia and frowned. "In a Dog spa? Seriously?" Charlene pouted. Petunia simply shrugged.

"Like I said, we'll do the allocations later." Teddy nodded for Perkie to continue.

"Case number three is the Empire State Adventure. The concession operator said that tourists are being hit while they're distracted by the views from the top of the building. Their bags are being rifled. The perps are stealing cough lollies and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups."

"That's pretty selective" observed Ernie, polishing his spectacles.

"Perhaps they have a sweet tooth" said Charlene. "I love Reese's."

"Me too" said Graeme.

"Case number four is the Coney Island Conga. Three of the local delis have been hit. All the kugels, blintzes and challah bread is gone. This is nearly as bad as the banana cream heist.

Case number five is in new territory for us. This one's called The Incident at the Staten Island Steak House. It's another food crime. All the apple pies have been stolen. A whole week's supply went missing. Apparently there was almost a riot when the locals realized there was no apple pie. Management would like us to be there for the next delivery."

There was another round of nodding heads and murmurs of agreement. No apple pie? A riot? Well, of course. People just can't take it any more.

"And the last case, the sixth, is the Smackdown on Second Avenue. This time it's Porky's Pierogis, on the corner of Second and 9th. They're having a spate of 'runners' – you know - when someone orders and eats but then runs off before they've paid. And it's always the same order – the Kielbasa Hero." There was a round of soft moans.

"Is that it?" asked Teddy.

"Yep. That's it Boss" said Perkie. "You can sum up and close if you want. But first we need to take a vote on the caseload. Is everyone agreed?"

There was a loud chorus of affirmation and a lot of claws, paws and wings went into the air. It was unanimous. This was a team on a mission.

"Alright" said Teddy. "Great work Perks. And well done everyone. The TTDA has really kicked some goals. All cases solved, all clients happy. And now we have another round of cases in the pipeline. I hope you've all had a rest these last couple of days because you're going to need it. We're back on again tomorrow morning, same time, same place, for a full briefing and case allocations. It's going to be another busy two weeks so enjoy the rest of your day off."

Teddy and Milo sat watching as the team dispersed. There was a rattle of wings as the Pigeons lifted off, and a patter of paws and scuffling as the rest of the team ran off into Tomkins Park. It had indeed been a successful two weeks. And the group had proven to be very effective. Somewhat erratic perhaps, but highly effective. Teddy looked up at Milo.

"How was it that you described the team Milo? Effective but...?"

"I think the word you're looking for is dysfunctional" chuckled Milo, adjusting his beret.

Yes thought Teddy. Effective but dysfunctional. And maybe even a little argumentative. And, without a doubt, easily distracted. But also loyal and hardworking, and reliable and caring. And one other thing, maybe the most important thing of all. They never, ever, give up.

What a team!

* * *

