Miss Demeanor Read online

  Miss Demeanor

  The Case of the Crooked Cat

  Celia J.

  Teen Girl Detective

  Miss Demeanor

  The Case of the Crooked Cat

  Created by Ed N. White

  

  Histria Kids

  Las Vegas ◊ Chicago ◊ Palm Beach

  Published in the United States of America by

  Histria Books, a division of Histria LLC

  7181 N. Hualapai Way, Ste. 130-86

  Las Vegas, NV 89166 USA

  HistriaBooks.com

  Histria Kids is an imprint of Histria Books. Titles published under the imprints of Histria Books are distributed worldwide.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publisher.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2022937276

  ISBN 978-1-59211-168-8 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-59211-218-0 (eBook)

  Copyright © 2022 by Ed N. White

  Contents

  Chapter One How it Began

  Chapter Two Sally McNally

  Chapter Three Beth and the Precinct

  Chapter Four Jacky the Dip

  Chapter Five More Beth

  Chapter Six She’s Walking, Yes, Indeed

  Chapter Seven The Pied Piper of…

  Chapter Eight Marcel the Monster

  Chapter Nine Solid Gold Evidence

  Chapter Ten Cranberry Juice and Catnapping

  Chapter Eleven The Drop

  Chapter Twelve Case Solved

  Chapter Thirteen Home Again

  Chapter Fourteen The Championship in Many Ways

  Chapter One

  How it Began

  WKKP Breaking News: The person known as The Cat Napper has done it again. For the fourth time in as many weeks, a local cat has been catnapped and held for ransom. Owners have reported this to police only after meeting the ransom demands, and their cats are returned. Police urge anyone with knowledge of these crimes to come forward with any information they may have. Now on a lighter note…

  The postcard came in the mail to me, Celia, this morning, advising that my annual check-up was due on the fifteenth. It wasn’t really for me. It was for Mr. Whiskers, my cat. Each year, he gets a check-up and his shots to keep him healthy. I don’t particularly like shots, but he doesn’t seem to mind. I’ll tell him about this after lunch. Right now, I’m putting the finishing touches on my new business cards. I struggled for a while with a name for my detective agency, cooking up some doozies like Whiz Bang Detective Agency and Fabulous Bigtime Investigations (FBI). In the end, I settled on:

  CELIA J.

  PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR

  I also added my email address, but my dad said he didn’t want me to put my phone number on it. He said to keep that private and only give it out to any clients I got. Good thinking, Dad. There are a lot of creeps out there in the world.

  I called Emerson Animal Hospital to get an appointment. Then, I called my dad to see if that worked for him because he’ll have to drive us there. I tried to get Mr. Whiskers to ride in a basket on the front of my bike, but he was having none of that. I’ll be so glad when I’m old enough to drive a car, not only to take the cat to the vet but to solve crimes outside my community.

  On the day of our appointment, Dad dropped us off and told me to call him when we finished, and he would come back for us. He’s a busy man, owning a machine shop with a dozen employees.

  I carried Whiskers into the office in a soft-sided carrier, placed him on the bench in the waiting room, and went to the reception desk.

  “Hi, Celia, nice to see you and Mr. Whiskers again.” Cathy greeted us from her desk sitting there in her wheelchair, decorated with two small American flags sticking up from the seatback. It will soon be the Fourth of July holiday.

  “Hi, Cathy, nice to see you also. Whiskers feels the same, but he’s not talking today.” We both laughed at that. Then I asked, “Would it be alright if I put one of my business cards on the bulletin board?”

  “Sure, what business are you in?”

  “I’m a private investigator, a CSI Junior Tech level one. I’m taking Forensic II next week to improve my skills, and I’ll be working with Detective Lieutenant Beth Frankel again. We broke the case against Lynette Duhamel and Jerry the Moke. Maybe you read about that in the paper.”

  “I did, Celia, and I was very impressed by the coverage. It seems like you were a great help to the police. It didn’t give your name, I guess, because you’re a minor, but I knew who they were referring to.”

  “Thank you, here’s one of my cards for yourself.”

  She looked at it and nodded, then said, “Very impressive. Good luck with your work.”

  I said, “Thank you, Cathy,” then tacked a card to the bulletin board and sat with Whiskers to wait for the doctor.

  I was watching the wall-mounted TV tell me about the catnapping when Dr. Bridget Emerson opened the exam room door.

  I carried Whiskers into the exam room. Dr. Bridget was another one of those women who, like Detective Beth, are my heroes. They can’t replace my mother, but since she died, I’ve looked to people like them and included them in my imaginary family, helping me with my grief. At the end of my first case, The Case of the Long Blonde Hair, when Beth brought back my father’s check and my phone, which was stolen when I was kidnapped, she and Dad hit it off very well. They haven’t had a date since then, but they’ve talked on the phone twice that I recall. I keep hoping.

  “Well, hi, Celia and Mr. Whiskers.” Dr. Bridget took the carrier and placed it on the shiny exam table, unzipping it as she smiled at me.

  “Hi, Doctor Bridget.”

  She took out the cat and laid him down, keeping a soft hand on his back. “What have you been up to lately, Celia?” She put the stethoscope in her ears and placed the metal end on Whiskers.

  “I helped solve a crime and worked with the police, and I’m going to Forensic II camp starting Monday.”

  Dr. Bridget started examining Whiskers’ ears. “Yes, I heard about that. That’s very exciting. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, I’m looking for another case to work on.”

  Dr. Bridget was cleaning Whiskers’ ears with a Q-tip she had dipped in a solution. “You know, there is something that may be of interest to you.”

  I jumped at that, “Really!”

  “Yes, a friend of mine had her cat stolen and paid a ransom for his return.”

  I was immediately on to this. “I just saw that on the TV. Wow! That sounds like something I can investigate.”

  When we’re finished here, ask Cathy to give you the address and phone number of Sally McNally, and if you call her, tell her I referred you to her. She may be able to help you. I know she’s talked to the police, but maybe a second set of eyes and ears might help solve these crimes. It’s a terrible thing.” Dr. Bridget was preparing to give Whiskers his shots. My thoughts were already logging in on case 003.

  When Dad dropped us off at home, I let Mr. Whiskers out of the carrier, gave him some treats and freshwater, then went up to my room. I opened my laptop and entered the information I had so far into a Case 003 file. I just labeled it Catnapping, for now, thinking I’d rename it once I had a handle on the case.

  After typing in Sally McNally’s info, I gave her a call. I think she has a really cool rhyming name. My name doesn’t rhyme, but it’s cool anyway. I just don’t make it public so that I can remain anonymous.

  “Hello, this is Sally McNally, who am I talking to?” She had a pleasant voic
e that sounded kind of like it was floating on air.

  “Hi, Ms. McNally, my name is Celia J., and Dr. Bridget referred me to you. I’m a private investigator.”

  “That sounds very exciting, but please just call me Sally. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I’m investigating the catnappings, and Dr. Bridget said you’d been a victim. I hope your cat is okay now.”

  “Oh yes, Icey has settled in again. He was quite traumatized when he first returned.”

  “How do you spell, Icey?”

  “His name is actually just the two letters I and C, with periods. It stands for ice cream. I love ice cream, but I just call him Icey — I-C-E-Y.”

  I began to wonder about Sally. “That’s a cool name. I was wondering if I could come over and chat with you about the napping and take some notes that might give me some clues. I’m not very far away.”

  “Certainly, Celia, can you be here at nine-thirty-seven tomorrow morning? I have a busy day.”

  “Yes, I can do that. What do you do in your day?”

  “I read and watch a lot of game shows on TV.”

  “Oh. Thank you, I won’t be late.”

  I went back into my file and added several question marks after Sally’s name.

  By the time my dad came home, I had prepared two cold plate dinners that were chilling in the fridge along with some fruit salad. “Hey, Dad, did you have a good day?”

  “Every day is a good day, Ceely, How ‘bout you?”

  “You bet, Dad, I’m on a new case. Doctor Bridget referred me to one of the women whose cat was napped, and I spoke with her on the phone and have a meeting with her tomorrow morning at nine-thirty-seven.”

  “Well, that’s pretty precise.”

  “Yeah, she seems nice, but maybe a little… quirky.”

  “I’m gonna change clothes before dinner, I’ll be right down.” My dad bounded up the stairs. He seems very happy now. I wonder if there were any more phone calls from Beth. I’ll see her at the CSI camp and try to find out.

  After dinner, I told him more about the catnappings, which he was unaware of, and I showed him my new business card.

  “Very professional,” He said, holding the card at various angles as if he were examining a precious stone. “Print some more of these, and I’ll pass them out at the shop. You never know where business will come from.”

  I felt like I was ten feet tall.

  Chapter Two

  Sally McNally

  Sally’s home was only a twenty-minute bike ride from my own, but it was light-years away in terms of neighborhoods. She lived in an upscale area known as Shady Oaks. The homes were large and beautifully landscaped. My Dad cut our lawn. I don’t think any of these people did theirs themselves. Her house was smaller than her neighbors, but still very, very nice. I rode up the winding pea stone drive flanked by two lampposts at the beginning. I parked my bike under a portico that shaded a large front door with an ornate brass door knocker shaped like a lion’s head. Beside the door was a doorbell, and I pushed that instead of using the knocker.

  I could see Sally approaching through the sidelights. She walked with a cane. When the door opened, she greeted me like I was a long-lost friend, “Celia, my darling, so good to see you again. Please come in, and we’ll have some tea. I have freshly baked cookies, too. Come, come.” She backed up as I entered, then closed the door. I don’t think we had ever met before.

  Before I could say anything, she started again. “It’s so lovely to see you. It’s been such a long time. How have you been?”

  I mentally added another question mark after her file name and said, “I’m very well, Sally, and you?”

  “Oh, goodness, I never change. All day and every day the same. It gets rather boring, you know. Come, let’s have tea in the library.”

  As we proceeded down the corridor, I passed several glass front cabinets filled with small electronic devices. It was like walking through a museum of transistors, microchips, and stuff like that. I was fascinated and couldn’t wait for Sally to settle down so I could ask her about that.

  The library was a comfortable room with many books shelved on the walls and had large windows on the back wall overlooking a well-tended garden. Icey was sitting on one of the sofas staring at me.

  “Icey, we have a visitor, it’s Celia, you remember her.”

  Icey looked friendly, and I went over to sit by him and stroke his fur. He got up, arched his back in a stretch, then settled on my lap.

  “See, he does remember you. I’ll get the tea and be right back.”

  I wasn’t sure about any of this, other than the fact that Icey was very friendly and Sally was a little different. I’m not sure how this interview will go, but I took out my flip-top notebook and pen and waited.

  Sally returned with tea and an open package of Oreos, placing them on the low table in front of me. How do you take your tea, Celia?”

  “With a little milk and sugar, please.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely,” Sally poured and handed me an elaborately delicate teacup and placed two Oreos on the saucer. She fixed her tea and then sat in a leather chair facing me. “So, Celia, what can I tell you?”

  I put my cup down and picked up the pen and notebook. “Tell me about the day Icey was napped.”

  “Well, he was here, and then he was not.”

  I waited for more, and the silence was deafening. All I could hear was the ticking of the mantle clock over the fireplace. Finally, I asked, “Is that it?”

  “And then he was returned.”

  “Let’s start there. How was he returned to you?”

  “Well, I put the money in an envelope and left it where the man said, and then I went to Wilcox Park the next day, and Icey was in a cardboard box with air holes in it and the top taped closed. He was placed under the third bench by the fountain.”

  I know I was starting at the end instead of the beginning, but there was a lot to unpack in her statement. “Okay, you’re sure it was a man?” I had my pen ready.

  “Oh, yes, and he seemed like a nice man on the phone.”

  “Would you say he sounded young or old?”

  “Probably, average.”

  This might be more difficult than I thought. “Okay, let’s say he may be about thirty-years-old, was there anything distinguishing his voice?”

  “He was very polite.”

  “That’s good to know. Tell me about the ransom, how much did he demand, and where did you leave it?”

  “It was five-hundred dollars, and I had to leave it under a brick at the backside of the bandstand also in Wilcox Park.”

  I made some notes in my pad, then said, “Okay, I’m glad Icey is safe. Now to start again, what happened the day he disappeared. Was there anything unusual that you can remember.”

  “Now that I think of it, there was the man on the sidewalk.”

  I leaned forward with the pen poised. “A young man?”

  “Probably, average.”

  I settled back on the sofa. “What was he doing? Why did you notice him?”

  “Well, I couldn’t see him clearly. I had misplaced my glasses that morning, but it seemed like he wasn’t doing anything, just staring.”

  “At what?”

  “He was staring at the house. And Icey was staring at him.”

  “Where was Icey at that moment?”

  “Oh, he was in his window. He likes to sit in the window and watch the world go by.”

  “So, he’s looking out the closed window at this person?”

  “Oh, no, the window is open, Icey likes the fresh air, but he won’t go outside, ever.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere. “So, there’s an unidentified man on the sidewalk staring at Icey sitting in an open window. Where were you at that moment?”

  “Well, I was in the parlor when I noticed the man, but then I went into the kitchen to make tea.”

  “So, that’s when Icey was napped?” My pen was poised for her answer.

  “I
believe so.”

  “Is there anything more you can tell me about the man on the sidewalk?”

  “Let me think… oh yes, I believe he had something in his hand, pointing it at the house. It looked like an RFID transponder. He may have been sending a signal to Icey’s microchip.”

  “Wow, how do you know all this electronic stuff.”

  “Oh, my dear, I was an acoustic wave electronic engineer for most of my life. I started working on accumulated signal devices in nineteen-sixty-eight. I think the man may have been sending a signal that caused Icey to come to him. Of course, that’s only a guess.”

  As we made our way to the front door, I asked Sally about all the gadgets in the glass cases. She answered, “Oh those, they’re some of the things I invented over the years. Some are prototypes of devices I helped develop when I worked for various government agencies like NASA or NOAA.”

  Wow! I felt like I was in the company of an electronic genius.

  Sally insisted I take some more Oreos, saying they were “freshly baked,” and put them in a Ziplock bag, which I placed in the backpack I left hanging on my bike. She’s a little eccentric but brilliant and kind. I like her a lot.

  On the way home, I stopped at a CVS and bought a map of the city. My mom had a corkboard in her darkroom and would post things on there with multi-colored push pins. I planned to bring the board to my room and identify the places where the nappings occurred.

  My dad was home when I got there. “Hi, Ceely, I got your note. How did the interview go?”

  “Well, Sally is a wonderful person, brilliant, and she seems very kind. She’s also… a little eccentric. I mean, she’s a little different, but I like her a lot. She’s kind of like Grandma Bailey.”

  “Oh, okay. Did you get any valuable information?”

  “Yup, she saw a man in front of her house, just before Icey was napped, and she said it looked like he was pointing an RFID transponder toward the house. She thinks it may have been something that connected with Icey’s microchip and caused him to go to the man.”