The Cat Who Came In off the Roof by Annie M. G. Schmidt

Author:Annie M. G. Schmidt [Colmer, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2016-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

“I don’t understand,” Minou said for the umpteenth time. “This has to go in the paper: Tatter Cat Crippled by the President of the Animal Lovers’ Association.”

“No,” said Tibble. “ ‘Cats aren’t news,’ that’s what my boss says.”

“Hitting a poor old mother cat with a bottle!” said Minou. “She might never recover.”

“I’m not entirely surprised,” Tibble said hesitantly, “at someone losing their temper when they suddenly see a stray cat standing on their salmon. And I can imagine them grabbing whatever’s at hand to knock it off the table.”

“Really?” said Minou, giving Tibble such a vicious look that he stepped back out of range of her nails.

“In any case, it’s not something for the paper,” he said. “And that’s all there is to it.”

Whenever Minou was angry, she got into her box to sulk. She was about to do that now, but Fluff came in through the kitchen window with a long-drawn-out meow.

“What’s he saying?” Tibble asked.

“The fishmonger?” cried Minou.

“Rwo…wwieeu…row…,” Fluff continued. He told her an ecstatic story in Cattish, then disappeared again, back on the roof.

“What about the fishmonger?” Tibble asked.

“He’s in the hospital!”

“Really? I thought it sounded like Fluff had good news.”

“The fishmonger got hit by a car,” Minou said. “It ran right into his fish stall. All the local cats are going straight there because there’s fish spread all over the road.”

“I’m on my way,” Tibble said. “I can write an article about this.” And he grabbed his pad.

“I’m going too,” Minou said. “Over the roof, that’s faster.”

She tried to climb out of the window, but Tibble stopped her. “No, Miss Minou. I don’t want my secretary scrounging around an upset fish stall like an old alley cat!”

Minou gave him a haughty look.

“What’s more,” said Tibble, “there’s bound to be a lot of people there, and you don’t like that.”

“Fine, I’ll stay here,” said Minou. “I’ll hear the news on the roof.”

—

There were a lot of people in Green Square. A real crowd. The police were there, there was glass on the street from the broken windows, and the fish stall was completely wrecked; there were slats and boards all over the place, the bunting had been trodden underfoot, and the last cat was running off with the last herring.

Mr. Smith was looking around too.

“They just drove off with the fishmonger,” he said. “They’re taking him to the hospital. He’s got a broken rib.”

“What happened?” Tibble asked.

“A car! But the weird thing is nobody knows which car. It was a hit and run. Outrageous!”

“Weren’t there any witnesses? Right in the middle of the day?”

“No,” said Mr. Smith. “It was twelve noon exactly. Everyone was having lunch. They all heard the smash, but by the time they’d come out to have a look, the car had gone round the corner.”

“And the fishmonger?”

“He doesn’t know either. One moment he was gutting some herring, the next thing he’s upside down, stall and all. The police have questioned everyone here in the neighborhood, but no one saw the car. It must have been a stranger, someone from out of town.

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