The Case Commences

I always used the excuse that I hated the catgut he had used to stitch his sleeve, but no one ever believed me. I don't blame them, for catgut is no longer made of real cat. To be completely honest, the real reason I hated Dr. Dawson was that he reminded me of one of Basil's enemies.

Even the police had never found out his real name, but to show his skill at murdering the innocent, the criminal always called himself "the master of muricide." I knew Muricide was extremely overweight, and he always wore a hat similar to the style that Dawson was wearing the first time I met him. Forgive me, but I have an extreme dislike for any chubby mouse in such a hat.

Muricide! I shudder whenever I think of him! He was mayor of three cities, having forced the previous mayors into slavery. His idea of fun was looting churches, synagogues, and other places of worship, usually setting a fire as soon as he had finished his raid.

At the beginning of his criminal career, he had been rivals with Ratigan, each competing to commit the worst crime before the other had a chance. Finally, it got to be too much for the sewer rat.

"Listen, Muricide!" the enraged felon shouted. "Around here, I am the world's greatest criminal mind! Everyone in the empire fears the name of Padraic Ratigan, and I don't need anyone stealing my infamy! If you want to be notorious, do it elsewhere! This is your final warning! If you so much as commit a misdemeanor, I shall take it as a great insult, and we shall duel over the right to be Mousedom's most vile criminal!"

Being a mouse, Muricide had no wish to fight Ratigan, so he fell on his knees. "Oh, please forgive me, sir! I envy your cunning so much that I desire to be like you! Why must there be hostility between us when we could be partners?!"

An even grimmer plot began simmering in Ratigan's brain. "Partners you say? What an excellent idea! You will obey me in all things, and you will commit no crimes without my approval! In return, I will give you wages as I see fit, and you will have your share in any profits I make from my schemes! If you should fail…!" He didn't have to finish his sentence.

Although that hadn't been what he had in mind, Muricide made a good henchman. He served Ratigan well, often as a spy. However, the rat never could bring himself to trust his former rival, so even though he was excellent at his job, Muricide never obtained the title of "favorite." Truth be told, the professor almost feared him; thus Muricide was never threatened, and he never feared the bell as the other henchmen did. In fact, as time passed, the rat called on Muricide for help less and less frequently.

"Felicia, my angel," he often confided in his pet, "it's almost too much to manage! Muricide's brilliance is second only to Basil's! I can't harm my most intelligent henchman, for he no doubt already has a plan of retaliation ready to be executed after his death! I have to keep him happy, but at the same time, I have to appear to be in absolute control! Meanwhile, Basil keeps attempting to have me arrested! It's almost more than I can bear, placating one genius while outwitting another! You ought to be grateful you were born so obtuse, for you will never have the burden my shrewd mind carries daily! You must tell me, sweetheart: What's it like being an imbecile? If ignorance is bliss, you must be happy. Is it not so, my darling cat?"

During the last few years of his life, Ratigan barely saw Muricide. He allowed the mouse to plan a few crimes to make sure Muricide would be entertained, but other than that, Ratigan no longer made demands of his previous competitor.

Everything changed after the professor died. Muricide seized the opportunity he had awaited for years. Less than a fortnight after Ratigan's demise, Muricide was beginning to make a name for himself. He even proclaimed himself to be Ratigan's heir, claiming all the stolen goods the rat had accumulated, even announcing that he was now in charge of Ratigan's gang.

However, it wasn't until much later that I learned of Muricide's usurpation. I knew how evil he was, but it was Ratigan, not Muricide, who was on my mind.

The night Ratigan died, Felicia almost lost her own life to the royal guard dogs. Dragging herself out of their enclosure, she managed to use the last of her strength to find Baker Street. I have no idea why she wanted to die here, but my humans found her and saved her life. As if that wasn't bad enough, they decided she would be staying with us.

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate that stupid cat?! She makes my life miserable! After several weeks here, she still acts as if she expects my humans to beat her severely if she makes the slightest mistake, trembling each time someone tries to pet her and cringing every time someone calls her name. She twitches violently in her sleep, calling Ratigan's name and begging for mercy. Even worse, there are mornings when she wakes from a peaceful dream and bursts into tears, apologizing to several names I've never heard, especially some guy named "Bartholomew."

The philosophical questions are worst of all! For example: Do I think Ratigan's victims are in a better place? If I had a criminal record, would it ever be right for me to forgive myself? How would I feel if I didn't deserve to live, but I was alive when so many innocent citizens were dead? Do I ever wish I could have met Ratigan before his heart became as cold, dark, and bitter as winter solstice? If I had been evil, would it be right to move on with my life, become good, and act as if I were never a criminal, or should I spend the rest of my life punishing myself with my guilt?

I don't mind a few inquiries, but it's always between midnight and dawn when that brainless cat asks these pointless questions! Sometimes I think the only way I'll ever get a good night's sleep again is if I can get my paws on some chloroform and…never mind.

Furthermore, I detest the way she hounds me. "Toby, you need to open your mind! You forget that Dawson was the doctor who saved Basil's life after my former master tried to kill the investigator on Big Ben! So what if Dawson reminds you of a certain criminal by his weight and the style of hat he wears?! I don't go around hating everyone in a tuxedo or loathing all rats because they remind me of my oppressor!"

When I ignore her, she continues, "You're an idiot! Dawson is offering you his friendship, and you're rejecting it! You're killing your chance of…!"

At this point, she always cries.

I hate melodrama almost as much as I hate cats, so a melodramatic cat…! I've got to find her a support group or something because this has officially gotten out of hand. I don't even know what or problem is or why she has sudden fits of emotions. Nothing she does makes sense, and every time I ask, she always changes the subject. Even though she's trying to reform, Felicia must have been an excellent criminal; I can never get her to confess anything.

Add that to the fact that she's obese and ugly, not to mention she sheds all over the flat, and you can see why I hate this imbecilic cat so much. Then there's that little problem about her past record; I'm not sure whether she can be trusted or whether she's going to have a relapse.

Enough about her! She isn't worth my time! How did I even get started talking about that…?

Oh yes! Ratigan and Muricide! Ratigan had survived the fall from Big Ben, but Felicia had "convinced him not to cause any more trouble." In other words, the professor was dead, and although I didn't know it at the time, Muricide was plotting a terrible scheme that would have made even Ratigan envious.