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“The Mousetrap!” I said, for I’d heard about it being performed the previous year. Zack had almost secured a part for himself in it and I’d hoped he’d get it and bring home the mouse. Unfortunately, Fisk Grackle, the mayor’s secretary, had been selected to play Zack’s part. Clear case of nepotism, Zack had said, for the mayor was chairman of the Theatrical Society.

“This year it’s Murder in the Park. They like to stage a different one each year. But that’s fine. Whatever the play, there’s bound to be a murder scene that needs to be rehearsed before opening night.”

“Of course.” I was starting to see what she was driving at.

“And when the weather is fine, the actors like to come to the park for their rehearsals.”

“Oh…” I said, for I now saw all. Again. “You mean…”

She nodded slowly.“Yes, that scene we witnessed together was part of the play.”

“But I saw…” I furrowed my red fluffy brow, for what had I actually seen? A man brandishing a knife, and when I next looked down, a woman was lying there, struck down. Or so it seemed. “I never saw the actual murder,” I said slowly.

“Go on,” said Dana, encouragingly.

“But what about the body floating in the pond? They couldn’t stage that, could they?”

“Did you see the body?”

“Brutus!” I said. “Brutus told me.” I eyed Dana with a measure of apprehension. “Don’t tell me Brutus is part of the FSA.”

“He isn’t,” Dana reassured me. “But as I started to tell you when you ran out on me before, we have the power to plant certain suggestions into people’s heads, and also other animals. That’s how Zack suddenly noticed the gas burner was still on, and that’s how Brutus thought he’d heard the story about the body in the pond and what made him so anxious to tell you all about it. Oh, and the voice of Zoe Huckleberry you heard just now?” She tapped her chest in a gesture of pride. “Moi.”

“But why?” I said. “Why the whole charade? Why go to all that trouble?”

“Because of you, Agent Tom.” Now it was my chest Dana tapped, or should I say punched, for she was surprisingly muscular for her size and build. Probably all lean muscle.

“Because of me?”

“All part of the test. What we want to establish first and foremost, is empathy. Does the candidate feel empathetic enough towards humans that he’d be willing to put his life on the line to save them? Well, since you more or less failed the first part of the test, we wanted to give you a secondchance by introducing Zoe’s ‘ghost’ and see if she couldn’t get a little remorse out of you. You know, a little penitence. Unfortunately you failed us again.”

“Well, how was I to know she was for real?” I said defensively.

“I know,” she said. “We had unfortunately overestimated your, um, judgment somewhat. And I was just about to give up on you when all of a sudden you blew your top. And showed more empathy towards human beings than any candidate I’ve ever interviewed.”

“Well, it just isn’t right,” I said, all the old pique returning. “You can’t go around murdering humans.”

“Well, once again, for the record: we don’t. You understand that now, don’t you?”

“Sure,” I said, though I couldn’t suppress a twinge of doubt. First Zoe Huckleberry was murdered, then she wasn’t, and then she didn’t even exist. All very confusing, if you see what I mean.

“Good. The FSA mission statement clearly stipulates as its number one priority the saving of human lives. We do this consistently. We do this globally. And we’ve been doing this ever since the first human started walking on his hind legs.”

“Silly habit, that,” I said. Why walk on two legs when you can walk on four, I meant to say.

“So, what about it?”

I blinked. Was this another test?“What about what?”

“Are you in?”

“Oh, sure,” I said, though I had no idea what she was talking about. “In what exactly?”

“The FSA, of course. Do you accept it as your life’s mission to serve and protect human beings? To spy out their lives and see to it that no harm comes to them? In other words, do you feel up to it, Agent Tom?”

At these words I perked up considerably. Agent Tom. I had to admit it had a nice ring to it. Partnered with Agent Dana, Agent Tom embarks on the boldest missions, carries out the most exciting assignments, launches the most taxing operations and saves human lives left, right and center. Sure I felt up to it. Who wouldn’t? I thrust out my paw. “Agent Tom reporting for duty, Agent Dana.”

Dana tapped my paw and shook it once, vigorously. Quite brawny.

“It will be my pleasure to serve the human race,” I said, trying to strike the right note. Bold, yet sophisticated. Suave, yet humble. And always, of course, debonair. In other words, from now on my name was Tom. Agent Tom.

“Wonderful,” Dana said appreciatively, and it amazed me how different she seemed now from the rather vapid Dana I’d always known. Fantastic acting skills, no doubt about it. How much I could learn from her. Of course, being partners, I’d simply assimilate all of those skills through osmosis.

“So what happens now?” I said, all of a sudden quite anxious to start on the road to feline espionage.

“Now you meet your partner and start your training,” said Dana simply.

“Great!” I said, and suddenly perceived our duo had turned into a trio. A big, white-haired Raggamuffin with reddish whiskers came waddling towards us, precariously teetering on the branch and looking very uncomfortable as he kept darting glances at the ground below.

“Stevie!” I cried, for I had instantly recognized that notorious mouse thief. “What are you doing here?”

“Why do you guys always have to climb trees?” he complained. “Why can’t you just stay with your four paws on the ground like normal cats?”

“Normal cats like climbing trees, Stevie,” said Dana, giving him a sniff.

“Look, Stevie,” I said, liking none of this sniffing business, “we’re in the middle of a very important meeting here. So buzz off, will you?”

“Buzz off?” he whined, now hugging the branch with all claws extended and pressing his head flat against the bark. “But I just got here.”

“And now you’re going again,” I pointed out.

“Not a chance. I’m not turning back if my life depended on it. The only way I’m getting out of this tree is firmly in the grip of some burly, highly capable fireman. So, Dana, just tell me why you asked me to meet you here and then I’ll start mewling for the cavalry, all right? Do you thinkthose guys work nights? But of course they do. Fires don’t keep regular hours, do they? Ha, ha. How silly of me.”

I was appalled.“Asked him?” I said incredulously. “You asked him?”

Dana gave me a curt nod.“Agent Tom, meet Agent Stevie. He will be your partner.”

“My what?” I cried.

Stevie glanced up at me apologetically.“Don’t look at me, buddy. It wasn’t my idea. I told her you wouldn’t like it, but she wouldn’t listen. Still sore about that mouse I pinched, are you? Boy, you certainly know how to hold a grudge. Let bygones be bygones, is what I always say. Say, what do you like best? Agent Stevie or Agent Steve? Personally I think I’ll go with Steve. Sounds more butch, doesn’t it? Like a real spy?”

I merely heaved a hollow groan in response. Little did I know that right then and there, one of the great partnerships in feline history had begun. All I could think was that I had just gotten myself into another nice mess. And Dana? She merely smiled.

12

Lucy Knicx Returns

I was still sitting on the same tree branch with Dana and Stevie, slowly coming to grips with this new reality facing me, when a thought struck me.