As you are aware, dear fans, being – as I am – Genus Rattus World Super-Brain (that is, ‘World Super-Brain of the Rat Species’) I rarely need to seek anyone else’s advice about anything. However, I’m sure you’ll agree that even the best of us need a little help now and then. So it was, that finding myself in a bit of a quandary, two days ago I began looking round to see which of my many acquaintances could set me straight on the rather sensitive matter of whether or not I should report a friend of mine to the police. But as you will shortly discover, these same innocent enquiries soon plunged me head first into a whole heap of trouble – so much so, that it wasn’t long before I began to think my life would never, ever be the same again.
The friend in question, who for the purposes of this account I’ll call Bill Jones, is a quiet, unassuming white rat who, contrary to his well-bred appearance, recently took up the nefarious practice of stealing. Like me, years ago Bill used to be a pet rat, but while he was still quite young he managed to get out of his cage and escape far away from his owner’s house. Since then, he’s lived happily in the countryside with his brown cousins, participating in the wildlife community just as fully as I do. But sad to say, something bad seems to have happened to him lately. His cheerful spirit has quite deserted him, and now he seems to display a dull disinterest in just about everything. In consequence of that, these days most of his old friends tend to give him a wide berth.
All this is bad enough, to be sure. But imagine my shock and horror when, as I was shopping the other day in Life Stratterjees (our local grocery store), I observed this same friend slipping items off the shelf into his pockets, and then leaving the premises without paying! At first I thought there must surely be a logical explanation for these actions. Perhaps Bill and the management had come to an arrangement that I knew nothing of, which entitled him to help himself to the produce in exchange for some services rendered, for example. This seemed like such a good reason for what I’d seen, that when I noticed him doing the same thing again on two other occasions, I actually smiled at him and asked him if he needed my assistance! Each time this happened he appeared flustered and taken aback, and then to my surprise rushed hastily out of the store without stopping to answer me. Even so, I might not have thought too much about it, were it not for a chance remark that I overheard Tony Ratterjee, the brown rat who runs the store, say shortly afterwards. ‘I can’t understand it, stuff keeps disappearing from my shelves, and it’s definitely not being paid for,’ he complained to a customer in his sing-song Indian voice. ‘If this does not stop soon, I must certainly be telling the police.’ That was it, then – I could no longer have any doubt that Bill was a thief! So now the only question that remained was this:
What on earth was I going to do about it?
Then, as it turned out, my first opportunity to intervene came almost immediately, when I bumped into my friend as he was coming out of the dentist’s surgery. But when I broached the subject by asking him why he had twice run out of the store without saying hello to me, to my dismay he declared that he hadn’t been there for weeks, so I must be confusing him with someone else. Well, I mean, REALLY! What would it say for the rest of rodent-kind if I, Genus Rattus World Super-Brain, were not capable of recognising my own friends when I saw them?
With that, I at last became so worried about Bill that I started asking others for ideas as to how to help him stop shoplifting. Some said that I should report his actions to the police, whilst others insisted that to do that would mean betraying my friend – a greater wrong by far than the theft itself! But no one could offer the sort of constructive advice that would actually put a full stop to his stealing. And so THAT was when a little voice in my ear gave me the following strange tip: ‘When in doubt, ask a monkey.’
A monkey? Seriously?
I looked around to see who had spoken, but in vain. Not a soul was in sight! Yet as I directed my gaze forwards once more, all of a sudden there appeared before me a most unusual painting… a painting that depicted not one, not two, but THREE monkeys! The first of these had his hands over his eyes, the second had them over his ears, and the third held them clasped over his mouth. The caption underneath read: ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil’. So was that my answer? Was I supposed to pretend I hadn’t seen the shoplifting or heard Tony’s complaint, and then keep my mouth shut and let the thefts continue? Ask a monkey, indeed! What kind of rubbish was that?
I was still fuming over the very idea of it, when I was unpleasantly surprised by a brown rat in policeman’s uniform, whose hand had just alighted on my shoulder. ‘Lord Grumpkin of Grumblemore?’ he enquired, scanning me up and down with a penetrating gaze.
‘Yes, that’s me, Officer,’ I replied, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘I’m afraid you’ve been positively identified in connection with a number of thefts from the grocery store,’ said he, ‘and so I’m placing you under arrest on suspicion of shoplifting.’
‘Under arrest? Me? Oh, no, Officer, you’re making a terrible mistake!’ I cried. ‘I do know who the thief is, but I assure you, it isn’t me!’
‘Well, before you say any more, it’s my duty to tell you this,’ he answered. ‘You have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say may be written down and used in evidence against you…’
What was that he was telling me? I struggled hard to understand, but with no success. Little by little my mind was freezing over with shock, and soon all the rest of his words had morphed into a great long blur of meaningless sound…
I don’t remember exactly what happened next. But when I finally came back to myself I was sitting in a small police cell, behind a locked door, and then the officer’s face suddenly reappeared on the other side of the bars.
‘Well, are you ready to tell us who the real thief is yet?’ he asked me. ‘You’d better be quick if you want to get out of here. The court case is in two days, which means if you don’t give us the information we need soon, you may very well find yourself convicted of somebody else’s crime!’
Of course, that was such a horrible prospect that I straight away opened my mouth to give him Bill’s name and secure my release. But just then a monkey appeared in my mind’s eye, gesturing wildly, and making clear expressions of alarm. ‘See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil!’ he seemed to cry at me, as he slapped his hands over his mouth to emphasise the point. Oh, no! How was I going to incriminate my old friend Bill now, in the face of such constraint? So for the longest time I simply gaped at the officer and said nothing. Then eventually sound came out of my mouth and I heard myself mumble, ‘Actually, Officer, I’m not really sure who it was that I saw take the stuff. I’m very sorry, I don’t think I can help you after all.’
‘Pity, Grumpkin,’ he answered, ‘You’re a fine person and I’d hate to see you go down for this. Still, if you’re sure you don’t want to talk…’ He waited for a moment longer, then with a sigh he left me alone, and a great sinking feeling came over me as I realised I’d just sealed my fate.
Well, the two days passed like two short hours, then before I knew it, there I was in the courtroom where things were not going well. I had spoken up vigorously in my own defence, only to be cross examined at length by a fiery tempered female rat who was determined to have me convicted. Now the two barristers were done summing up, and all that remained was for the judge to consider her verdict – and she clearly wasn’t going to waste the court’s time with lengthy deliberations. Indeed, she had got so far as to ask me to stand to receive her judgment, when the proceedings were suddenly interrupted by a loud commotion. And before anyone could stop him, who should burst into the room but a black rat in a white coat, a shiny silver stethoscope swinging from his neck.
‘Many apologies, Judge Jenny!’ he exclaimed breathlessly. ‘Please forgive this intrusion, but it’s my professional duty to inform you that you have the wrong person in the dock. The individual who stole the items from the shop is also a white rat – hence the mistaken identity – but I can confidently assure you that Lord Grumpkin is one hundred per cent innocent of this crime.’
‘Well, I must say, Doctor Huffanpuff, this revelation is surprising to say the least,’ frowned the judge, a sleek-backed crow with a wit as sharp as her spiky beak. ‘What evidence do you have to support your claims?’
The doctor fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a bottle of pills. ‘This is the medication that I’ve been prescribing for Bill Jones,’ he said, handing it to the judge. ‘It was intended to help him sleep, but what I didn’t realise till today is that it’s been working rather too well. It turns out he’s actually been sleeping round the clock, and hardly waking at all except to eat and take another pill.’
‘Well, I’m sure that’s all very interesting, Doctor, but what has Bill Jones got to do with this case?’ Judge Jenny demanded.
‘Simply this, your Honour,’ said Doctor Huffanpuff. ‘Today I saw for myself what he’s been doing all this time. I followed him into the store and watched him take various things off the shelves and cram them into his pockets. Naturally I confronted him about the theft, but he didn’t respond. It was as if he couldn’t see or hear me, and that’s when I realised what was wrong. He was apparently so affected by this medication that he had absolutely no knowledge or memory of any of his actions. To put it in plain language, Judge Jenny, he’s been sleepwalking – or if you prefer, sleep-shopping!’
‘Sleep-shopping? Well, that will certainly be a new one for our science books,’ observed Judge Jenny, ‘and it will, of course, have an impact on my verdict. But before I pronounce judgment in this matter, can you please say whether your patient now acknowledges his wrongdoing?’
‘Yes, indeed he does, your Honour. What’s more, he’s sincerely sorry for the trouble he’s caused, and to prove it, he’s given me more than enough currency to pay for all the items that were taken.’ He pushed forward a large bucket of earthworms, a popular means of payment in the local wildlife community.
‘I see, thank you, Doctor,’ replied the judge. She paused to scribble briefly with her beak on the legal document before her. Then she said, ‘As a result of the new evidence provided, I now rule that judgment against Bill Jones be set aside on the grounds of diminished responsibility. I also rule that following his confession of shoplifting from the grocery store, the currency he has offered as reparation for his crime be handed over to Tony Ratterjee in compensation for his losses. And finally, in light of these unusual developments, the case against Lord Grumpkin of Grumblemore is hereby dismissed.’
I was absolutely incredulous. ‘Dismissed? But, your Honour, what about MY compensation?’ I cried.
‘YOUR compensation?’ croaked the judge, cocking her head quizzically in my direction.
‘Yes, Judge Jenny, I’ve just spent two days in a police cell for a crime I didn’t commit! Surely I should have a share in the compensation you’ve just awarded?’
‘Hmm, two days…’ she mused, pressing her beak to the document to add a few more words to its contents. ‘Yes, thank you for drawing my attention to this, Lord Grumpkin. It was indeed an omission on my part to overlook the time you spent in police custody. Shall we say that you will pay the court compensation equal to half the amount paid by Bill Jones?’
My face pulled into a puzzled frown. ‘Er, begging your pardon, your Honour, I think you mean that I should RECEIVE half that amount in compensation, not pay it to the court,’ I said.
‘No, Lord Grumpkin, I am not accustomed to saying what I do not mean,’ she stated. ‘As the person wrongly arrested and charged for this crime, you have clearly been occupying a police cell under false pretences. I therefore order you to pay one half-bucket of live earthworms in compensation for the two days’ bed and board that you received, despite your lack of any legal entitlement, at considerable public expense! You are hereby instructed to present the said currency to the court by not later than this time tomorrow.’
I was so stunned by that unexpected turn of events that I could do nothing but open and shut my mouth like a fish, and then watch helplessly as Judge Jenny signed the court order. However, when I finally got home I could no longer contain my fury.
WHAT! Me pay compensation to the police for their mistake? This is preposterous, I shall appeal to the highest court in the land! I shall make a formal complaint to the Police Commissioner! I shall write to Her Majesty the Queen if necessary, and request a royal pardon! I shall stop at nothing till this most grievous miscarriage of justice is overturned!
And what’s more, if that idiotic chimpanzee in the picture above doesn’t stop laughing at me right this minute, I’m going to have him arrested for harassment – then we’ll see who’s laughing!
And I can tell you now, fans, once he’s been through Judge Jenny’s courtroom, it certainly won’t be him!
