The Barker's Dozen - Reminiscences of an Early Police Dog by Robert Warr Read Free Book Online Page B

the door. My master and I have waited together too often for him not to recognise the signs. Quietly he joined me and kneeling by my side, we glanced into the hall.
    A man was creeping delicately up the stairs, one at a time, keeping well to the sides of the treads. In front of him and a few risers higher, a large tabby was moving up the middle of the staircase. I noted that when the cat’s weight caused a stair to creak slightly the man stepped clear over it. This was a very clever villain.
    The door to Lady Morton’s sitting room was directly opposite the head of the stairs with her dressing room being the next door along. We watched as the villain opened the second door and entering the room , carefully pulled the door closed behind him.
    He must have been facing the door when Lord Morton addressed him from an armchair in the corner of the room. The elderly gentleman had insisted on playing an active r ôle in the night’s entertainment.
    The door flew open and our intrepid villain rushed out of the room and, preceded by his cat, raced down the stairs. As he came level with the study, I shot out and raced in front of his legs. That , coupled with my master’s own actions, resulted in the villain crashing to the ground. Before he could recover his senses my master and Sergeant Allen, who had followed the burglar in through the scullery window, had him adequately secured.
    ‘Mr Andrew Williams, I believe.’ My master said shining Sergeant Allen’s lantern into the miscreant’s face. ‘I was unaware that we had licensed pawnbrokers to run a late night home collection service.’
    I had seen Crumble dart past Sergeant Allen and as soon as I had recovered my balance I set off after him. It goes against the grain to arrest only one when two of the ungodly are caught in a trap.
    I have often bragged about my nose and my abilities as a tracker and I was in no doubt I would run the feline reprobate to earth quite quickly. As it transpired, I had no need to exert myself.
    I had just left through the scullery window when I became aware of a disturbance issuing from the mews behind the property. In this instance the name was properly deserved, as there was such a hissing and meowing that I wanted to retreat. Sensible of my duty, however, I advanced through a partly open gate to a moonlit scene that I will remember for as long as I live. Crumble was crouched against the opposite wall, looking much smaller than I had expected. Around him in a half-ring were six cats: Fielding, Big Ginge, three of the other neighbourhood thugs and young Portia, who was transformed that night into a very formidable little beast.
    Crumble, the monster, had been brought to bay.
    Big Ginge must have heard me enter the mews because he glanced round and glared at me.
    ‘Go away dog,’ he hissed. ‘This is a feline problem and will be dealt with as such.’
    Now I would not normally intervene with a private matter but I am a police dog and I do not hold with mob justice. I could also see how frightened Crumble was. At the end of the day, even the villains deserve to be treated justly.
    ‘No,’ I said in a very reasonable tone of voice. ‘Not until I have heard Crumble’s account of these robberies. There are still some aspects that intrigue me.’
    ‘Think again, dog!’ Big Ginge growled. ‘What can a spoilt pet like you do to stop me doing what I choose?’
    ‘Bleed, I suppose,’ I replied honestly, while bearing my own teeth. ‘But bleed ferociously and not on my own.’
    Fielding, who was obviously getting worried by this turn of events, hissed something into Big Ginge’s ear. The larger cat considered it for a moment and then adopted a much less threatening posture.
    ‘On second thoughts,’ he purred, ‘I think you have a valid point. We will listen to what this creature has to say. Then having heard, I will consider. In return for this courtesy, you will then abide by my decision. Agreed?’

 
    Crumble, the monster, had been