(Jenny's POV)
Frank and I have been together for two months now and things are almost too good to be true. We both enjoy the same things and we rarely argue. For months I've dreamt of wanting to be with him and now that I can, I feel so much happier. The kissing has been the major in our relationship. Frank and I have explored the classrooms, the library, and even Aunt Hermione's office – using Mr. Flatley's desk.
Aside from the kissing, we also go out on dates – to a restaurant or a bar, the cinema or just walking around holding hands. But as my duty as the Cat – which I haven't told Frank about – there are times where I have to cancel.
Like tonight. We were supposed to go and see The Great Gatsby, but I had to cancel and tell Frank that my family were visiting me, Aunt Hermione and Uncle Richie when in actuality; I'm at the National Gallery for an unveiling of three, French 19th-century paintings. The reason for this is because lately, museums, galleries and jewellers across London have been reporting losses of priceless artefacts, paintings and gems. The only lead to these thefts is... a magician. Unbelievable as it is, it's true. Zeke showed me CCTV footage of the Magician at a jewellers in Knightsbridge – on the day I was gonna go to the movies with Frank – clearing the store by covering the glass display case with his cape and when he pulls it away, the case is empty! I couldn't believe what I just saw – the mysterious magician cleared out the store without opening or breaking the glass case. Incredible! But not as incredible as when Zeke told me that my mission was to stop this guy.
"How the hell am I supposed to do that?" I exclaimed, earning me some shushes from some students (I was in the library). After a sheepish, apologetic smile, I asked in a hushed whisper, "More importantly, how will I know when and where this guy will strike next?"
"The National Gallery are unveiling three paintings from 19th-century France after a ninety-year-old art collector named Penelope Brewster from Oxford left the paintings to the Gallery in her will. The value of the paintings are said to be worth a very cool £100 million," said Zeke. "And that's enough to grab the attention of art lovers and magician thieves. The event starts tonight at 7:00 P.M. So… are you up for the challenge?"
So here I am. At the National Gallery, snacking on finger foods and sipping on orange juice out of a champagne glass. In a disguise that consists of a turquoise dress with a wrap over front and a flared skirt that falls at the knees, tan t-strap shoes and a long, dark brown tousled bob wig. I've been spending the last half an hour checking on anyone acting or looking suspicious, but so far, nothing. To think that right now, I could be cuddling up to Frank, watching Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire on the big screen, but instead, I'm here at the Gallery, attempting – big emphasis – on stopping a magician thief from stealing an art collector's last wish.
I'm about to take another sip of my orange juice, when the sound a clinking glass catches my attention. I turn to see a man next to a large grey curtain using a fork to clink his glass to grab the attention of everyone in the room. The man is short, rotund and nearly elderly, with grey hair (though the top of his head is bald), dark brown eyes, and thick, black eyebrows. In terms of clothing, the man is wearing a black suit with a dark red waistcoat and matching bowtie, and half-moon spectacles.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Nicholas Penny, I'm the director of the National Gallery and I would like to thank you for coming to this event," says Mr. Penny. "Before I reveal these beautiful paintings, I would like to briefly talk about the artist who painted them. The artworks – known as the Essence of Nature Collection – were painted in 1845 by Anne De Legere. Born in 1789 in Gascony, France and died in 1877 in Paris, Miss De Legere has combined the elements of nature with fantasy to give us Dancing Fire, Whispering Wind and Water Rhapsody, the names of the paintings in the Collection. And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for, I give you the Essence of Nature."
Mr. Penny takes hold of a gold cord next to the curtains and tugs on it, making the curtains open and reveal three large oil canvases – the Essence of Nature Collection. Everyone in the room gives a warm applause to the artworks and goes over to them to get a closer look. I hang back, but admire them from afar. The colour and details of these paintings are simply exceptional and inspiring. Each of the paintings depicts three different women representing the three elements: fire, wind and water.
The woman in the first painting, Dancing Fire, looks radiant in a striking gown inspired by the beauty and intensity of fire. She can light up a room in her fantasy costume depicting the element of fire. The shapes of the flame stand out against the striking gown of red and orange. Additional accents include a red beaded necklace with a single red faceted drop and matching red bead earrings. With her long red hair and scarlet gown, the woman flairs and swirls in the smoking air until there is no longer a distinction between herself and the magnificent fire of life.
The woman in the next painting, Whispering Wind, is a whirlwind of beauty, who gracefully rides on the wind, has a very magical aura about her. Fashioned in a fantasy garment reminiscent of a blustery breeze, the woman's skirt features a liquid palette of sky blue and lilac hues swirling about. Her pleated bodice is painted with matching fluid tones and features beads and pearls. Attached to the dress is a beaded chiffon sash that flows to one side as though it's swaying in a gentle breeze. The woman's long platinum blonde hair – tastefully tinted with tiny strands of lilac and blue – gracefully gusts to one side, while she holds a white dove in one hand, implying that she is close indeed to those majestic inhabitants of the sky. She is the embodiment of ethereal grace, nature and freedom.
In the final painting, Water Rhapsody, the woman is a fantasy vision emerging from the water in her dark blue sheath dress enhanced by a striking 'wave' train of pleated iridescence with pearl detail. Her intricate scalloped bead headpiece features clear-beaded tendrils replicating the delicate sea spray. Her ensemble is complete with white fingerless opera-length gloves and a wide blue bead choker. These paintings are truly a work of art.
Just as I take a sip of my orange juice the lights go out. Everyone in the room gasps, but the lights are back on within ten seconds.
"It seems that we experienced a bit of a blackout there," says Mr. Penny. "Luckily, it was only a brief one and I'm sure it won't happen aga–"
The lights go off again but this time longer than before. The Magician, no doubt. How is he doing it? As the lights come on again, there's a scream – Water Rhapsody of the Essence of Nature Collection is not on the wall.
"Water Rhapsody! It's missing!" Mr. Penny cries.
Murmurs of concern fill the room. Once again the lights go off, but this time they're out for minutes instead of seconds. Everyone in the room is all starting to freak out. During the darkness and panic, I carefully my glass down on the table I was standing next to and start to slowly make my way for the exit. As the lights flicker on again, the room comes into focus again. I turn to the wall where the Collection are hanging… only to find Dancing Fire and Whispering Wind gone.
"Someone, call the police!" says Mr. Penny. "The National Gallery has been robbed!"
Suddenly, the lights start to twinkle on and then off again and again, causing everyone in the room to run for the exit. As the last person leaves the room, I feel a vibration. I hitch up my skirt that reveals my phone, strapped discreetly to my thigh. Taking the phone off the strap, I unlock it and read the text from Zeke.
Magician heading for the back exit leading to Orange Street – Z
Placing the phone back on the strap, I head for the back exit of the Gallery. Upon arriving at the exit, I catch a glimpse of a cape disappearing out of the door. I use my watch communicator to change into the Cat and chase after the thief. I see him in my sights as he heads towards Leicester Square. I go to one of the cylinders of my utility belt and pull out a small boomerang. Pushing a small button on the aerofoil wing, the boomerang becomes big. As the Magician enters the small park of Leicester Square, I throw the boomerang. It hits the Magician at the back of the head, causing him to fall to the ground. The boomerang circles back to me and I catch it. Pushing the button on the aerofoil, the boomerang becomes small again and I place it back in the cylinder. There's quite a crowd forming around the unconscious magician as I enter the park, but soon their eyes are on me and everyone pulls out their phones and cameras and take pictures of me.
"Look, Mummy, it's the Cat!"
"Man, she looks so hot in real life."
"I can't believe the Cat is here."
As much as I appreciate the attention and compliments, I still have to focus on what I'm meant to do.
"OK, everyone, I'm gonna need you to stand back," I tell the crowd. "The man on the ground is a criminal and could be armed."
The crowd do what I say. I approach the unconscious magician and kneel by his side. I turn his body so he's lying on his back. The Magician has on a black tuxedo with a white shirt, white tie, white gloves, and a Guy Fawkes mask. He also has a long, black cape and a black top hat.
"All right, buster. Let's see who you really are," I say, pulling the mask away… only to find a mannequin's face staring at me. "What the…?" I say, astonished, dropping the mask. The crowd around me are just as baffled as I am. "Where the hell is the magician?"
As I say it there's a sudden gasp and murmur, and someone yelling "Look!" I turn and stare. It can't be. It is.
It's… the Magician. Standing in front of the Odeon West End cinema – in the same outfit and mask that I found on the mannequin. The crowd around me applaud the Magician as I stare dumbfounded at him. How the hell did he do that? The Magician gives the crowd a very formal bow from the waist, and then hurries off to the direction of his left, his cape flowing behind him.
I run out of the park and follow the path that the Magician took, only to stop in my tracks and see him climb into a black van. The door slides shut and speeds off, leaving dense tyre tracks on the road.
"Arrrgh!" I growl, my hands clenching in fists of rage. I can't believe that bastard got away.
The sounds of sirens grab my attention. I use my communicator to activate my Rocket Go-go Boots. I launch myself into the air, and make my way home.
xxoOoxx
The next morning I walk into St Hope's a little later than usual feeling uneasy and very tired. I couldn't sleep last night and that stupid bastard of a magician is to blame. Not only did he get away with those paintings, but he managed to humiliate me in front of a crowd thinking that I caught him when really I caught a blooming mannequin! Now I know how MI9 feel when I humiliate and annoy them. I've never felt this embarrassed in my life. There's pictures of me and my dumbfound face all over the papers and probably video clips of me on YouTube. I could ask Zeke to hack into the website and take the videos down, but the person will just post it on the website again –
"Hey, Jen, wait up!"
I spin around, startled, as Frank comes running up to me.
"Didn't you hear me? I've been calling after you, but you looked like you were a million miles away." Frank stops to catch his breath.
"Oh… sorry," I stammer. "I'm kind of in a fog today, I guess."
"I'll say. I didn't expect to see you come in at –" Frank glances at his watch – "Ten past twelve. Is everything alright?"
"Yeah. I guess. I… uh… didn't sleep well last night."
"Oh. Do you want me to set you up a room so you can have a couple of hours to yourself?"
I smile. "That's very sweet of you, Frank, thank you. Maybe later, at lunchtime."
"OK." He smiles.
He looks so sweet, so concerned, I leap up and kiss him. After a few seconds, I pull away.
"Wow. What was that for?" he asks.
"For being adorable," I say. "And at the same time apologising for cancelling last night –"
"Hey, you don't need to apologise for anything. Especially if it's involves family – they come first. We'll just see The Great Gatsby another time, OK?"
"You bet."
"Good."
The bell rings. The students pour out of the classrooms and go off to their next lesson.
"I better get going," I say. "I'll see you later."
Frank gives me a quick peck on the cheek then turns to leave. "Make sure you get some sleep," he says as he leaves.
"I will," I add. I turn and head off to the school gym.
(Frank's POV)
"I take it everyone has read the papers today," I say to Rose, Carrie and Oscar as they enter HQ at lunchtime.
"And how!" says Carrie. "Did you see The Sun's headline for this story: 'CAT-TRICK – Magician tricks the Cat into thinking she caught him'."
"Videos of the Cat with the mannequin magician are all over the Internet, as well," says Oscar.
"Aside from humiliating the Cat," I say, "the Magician also stole three paintings from the National Gallery last night. Have a look at this."
I turn on the middle screen to show the team CCTV footage of last night's events. After the unveiling of the paintings, the lights go off, only to flicker back on seconds later. Then the lights go off again. After a few minutes, the lights come on again – with one of the paintings missing from the wall.
"Whoa," the team say in unison.
"Hold on, there's more," I say.
The footage shows the lights going out again. Minutes later, the lights come back on, but now the other two paintings are gone. Seconds later, the lights start to flicker on and off, causing everyone in the room to run out.
"The Gallery hasn't been the Magician's only target," I say, after pausing the video. "Over the last few weeks, other galleries, museums and jewellers all over London have been reporting losses of priceless artefacts, paintings and gems."
"Does the Magician leave any clues behind? Or calling cards?" says Rose.
I shake my head. "He leaves nothing behind."
"What about that mask he wears?" Carrie asks. "We can find out who brought the mask within the last three months."
"That's not gonna work," says Rose. "Ever since the film V for Vendetta came out back in 2006, the Guy Fawkes mask has become widespread nationally and internationally among groups protesting against politicians, banks and financial institutions. It'll be impossible to find out who brought the mask."
"So how are we gonna find out who this magician guy is?" says Oscar. "On top that, we don't even know when he'll show up again."
"On the contrary, Oscar," I say, looking at one of the papers. "I think I may have an idea. According to The Guardian, the British Museum is to hold a gala for an unveiling of a gold chalice that once belonged to King Athelstan tomorrow night. The chalice is said to be worth £18 million."
"That'll get the Magician's attention," says Carrie.
"Mmm. I'm gonna see if I could pull a few strings and see if we can get some invites to the gala. You and Oscar will pose as the invitees, while Rose and I will monitor the event from the Museum's control room."
"Ooh, I can't wait. I gonna need to find something to wear to the party." Carrie turns to Rose. "Rose, you and I are going dress shopping after school – no ands, ifs or buts."
"Great," says Rose, rolling her eyes.
Carrie giggles and links her arm in Rose's and leaves HQ, with Oscar following behind. As for me, I bring out my phone and make a call to the British Museum.
(Jenny's POV)
"Hometime! Off you go guys. See you on Monday," I say, as the bell goes.
Everyone shoots up and heads towards the door. After the last person exits the art room, I heaved a weary sigh and gather up my stuff. Just then, my phone rings – it's Zeke.
"Hey Zeke," I say.
"Hiya," he says. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired. I spent a tormented night tossing in bed and that stupid, arrogant prick of a magician is to blame. He made me look like a complete idiot – in front of my adoring fans! I bet MI9 are laughing at me as we speak. Oh, when I get my hands on that magician, he's gonna regret messing with the Cat!"
"Well, you'll be pleased to know that the Magician might be making a special guest appearance at the British Museum tomorrow night, when they'll be holding a gala for an unveiling of King Athelstan's gold chalice – worth £18 million."
"And I take it MI9 will be part of the action?"
"Of course."
"Mmm." A tiny pause. "It'll be risky for me to be at the Museum without arousing suspicion from the MI9 agents who are also after the same criminal, so it'll be better if I monitor the Museum from the outside. At least if I get spotted, I'll be able to make a quick getaway."
"That's probably a good idea – out of sight, out of mind and all that."
There's a knock on the door. The door opens – it's Aunt Hermione.
"You ready, Jen?" she asks.
"Coming, Aunt H," I say. Then I say to Zeke, "I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye."
"Laters." Zeke hangs up – as do I. I collect my stuff and exit the art room with Aunt Hermione.
"Who was that on the phone?" Aunt Hermione asks. "I hope that wasn't Mr. London calling you, saying he misses hearing your voice."
"Per-lease, Aunt 'Mione, Frank and I are not that soppy and pathetic," I say. I go into lying mode. "No, that was just an old friend from uni inviting me to a night-out tomorrow night."
"Hmm. Just be careful. London after dark is packed with yobs who just want to roam around and pick fights and get into trouble."
"Yes, Aunt Hermione." Like she hasn't told me that a billion times.
We exit the school and head for the car park. We hop into Aunt Hermione's car and she gets behind the wheel. She starts the engine and we drive out of the school to home.
(Frank's POV)
The guests begin arriving at the British Museum a little after eight o'clock the next night. Rose and I arrived fifteen minutes before, using the back entrance rather than the front and we were greeted by Neil MacGregor, the Museum's director. He took us to the control room in the lower level of the Museum. The control room has a large desk with multiple electronic displays and control panels present, and there's a large wall-sized display area behind the desk showing continuous video surveillance and recording of the Museum, including where the gala is held – the Great Court. As well as seeing the gala from the control room, Rose and I can also hear what is going on via Carrie's Earring Microphone Communicator. Before Rose and I left for the British Museum, we met up with Oscar and Carrie at HQ where I gave them the gadgets needed for this mission: an Earring Microphone Communicator – so Rose and I can hear what is going on, Night Vision Contact Lenses – for Oscar and Carrie to see in the dark and the Net Launcher – wrist-mounted devices that fire a net that entraps the target, hidden under the sleeves of Oscar's suit. Also, the Age-Deceiving Pills – to make Oscar and Carrie look older, so no-one – not even the Magician – can see that they're teens.
By nine o'clock, the Great Court is filled with dozens and dozens of people, all dressed in suits and fancy dresses, chatting in small groups, sometimes laughing loudly, and one or two making what I assume are business deals from all the hand-shaking and the clinking of their glasses.
Half an hour goes by and so far, the party seems to be going well. The entrance and Reading Room of the Great Court glow in purple, while the walls of the Court glow in blue showing a white silhouette of the London skyline. Between the steps of the Reading Room is a small stage with a group of people playing classical music. The waiters and waitresses dressed in black and white are darting back and forth with trays of food and drink. During that time, nothing out of the ordinary has happened – no-one is acting suspiciously or looking shifty.
After another half an hour, Mr. MacGregor goes on stage, standing next to a pedestal, with a round-shaped object covered with a black cloth seating on top.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to welcome and thank you for coming to this gala!" I hear him say. There's applause. "Now before I unveil this wonderful piece of treasure, I would like to give a brief history to the person who owned it – King Athelstan. Athelstan was the first king of all England, and Alfred the Great's grandson. He reigned between 925 and 939 AD. A distinguished and courageous soldier, he pushed the boundaries of the kingdom to the furthest extent they had yet reached. He was also a great collector of works of art and religious relics, which I am delighted to show you. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you King Athelstan's golden chalice!"
There's an even bigger and louder applause than before as Mr. MacGregor removes the cloth and reveals the gold chalice that's encased in a glass dome display case.
Suddenly, the lights start to flicker and then the lights go out. I can hear voices, shock and surprised, startled screams and cries, bodies falling over one another, glass smashing and… a hissing sound?
"Carrie? Carrie, what's going on?" I ask over the radio connected to her Earring Microphone Communicator.
"I can't see a damn thing!" she chokes.
"Aren't the Night Vision Contact Lenses working?" says Rose.
"Oh, they're working alright. But it's hard to see anything with all this smoke!" says Carrie.
"A smoke screen," I deduce. "Very clever, Magician."
The lights flicker back on. I can hear cries of confusion and hushed whispers. Rose and I turn to the video screens where the smoke in the Great Court dissipates.
"Carrie, what's happening now?" I ask. No reply. "Carrie?"
"Sorry, Frank," she says. "I'm standing where the chalice was kept – it's gone!"
The smoke clears up. I can see Carrie standing next to the glass dome display case, now smashed to pieces, where the chalice was. But where's Oscar?
"Carrie, where's Oscar?" I ask.
"I… I don't know," she says. I can see her looking around. "He was by my side before the lights went out."
"Guys, I'm outside the Museum," I hear Oscar say. "I have the chalice and the Magician."
"Come on, Rose," I say, standing up.
Rose and I leave the control room and exit the Museum using the back entrance. Minutes later, we arrive at the front of the Museum. Carrie is already there, with the chalice in her hand and Oscar has the Magician, all tied up.
"Here, Rose," says Carrie, handing the chalice to Rose so she can examine it. "Oscar says it was hidden under the Magician's hat."
"Good work, team," I say. I turn to the Magician. "Now let's see the man behind the mask." I pull the mask off the Magician's face but I'm completely thrown off by who is behind the mask. Instead of a man, it's… a woman! "Oh…" I stammer. "Y-you… You're a girl."
"You don't say!" the woman says sarcastically. She has straight black hair that's cut fashionably short – making me mistake her for a man – emerald eyes, high cheekbones and pale, creamy skin. The woman looks at her surroundings. "What's going on? Where am I?" She looks down at herself. "Why the hell am I tied up?"
"You mean you don't remember?" says Carrie.
"Remember what?"
"Stealing King Athelstan's chalice," says Oscar. "Not to mention other priceless artefacts, paintings and gems!"
"What!? I did no such thing!" the woman protests.
"Yeah, right!"
"Oscar, she's right. She didn't do it," says Rose.
"How do you know?" I ask.
"The chalice that she stole… is a fake."
Carrie, Oscar and I look at Rose in surprise and all talk at once.
"What?!" I exclaim.
"No way!" Oscar complains.
"You're kidding!" Carrie moans.
"I'm afraid not," says Rose. "When Carrie handed me the chalice, it felt lighter. If this was the real chalice, it would've felt heavier since it's made of gold. The chalice that we have here must be made out of tin or something lighter."
"This could only mean one thing…" I say.
"The Magician stole the real chalice earlier today and replaced it with a fake…" Carrie adds.
"And used an innocent civilian to steal the fake, so we would think that she's the Magician," Oscar finishes.
"Exactly," says Rose.
"Wow. I don't know who makes us look more stupid – the Magician or the Cat," says Carrie, folding her arms. "I mean seriously, can this get any more worse?"
My phone rings. I take it out from the inside of my jacket – it's Chief Agent Stark.
"Sir?" I answer.
"London, we've got a problem," says Stark. "A massive problem."
"What's wrong?"
"The MI9 database has been hacked into and… every bit of information about MI9 is gone. Missions, gadgets, agents – the lot."
"What?! When did this happen?"
"About ten minutes ago. And you'll never guess who did this."
"Oh God, no."
"Frank? What's wrong?" Rose asks.
Hanging up, I look at my team, with grave eyes.
"Team, I have bad news," I start. "About ten minutes ago, the MI9 database was hacked into and I'm afraid… every scrape of MI9 information has been wiped clean from the database."
"WHAT!?" the team screams.
It dawns to Rose. "Oh no, please don't tell us it's who we think it is."
"I'm afraid it is," I say. "We are at the complete mercy of the Magician. Either he'll make us pay him a ransom for the information, or worse, he'll sale the information to the highest bidder and the lives of every MI9 agent will be in danger."
We stare at each other in worry. The Magician has every report of every mission, every blueprint of every gadget and every agent's name on him. Worse of all, we have no idea where he is so we can't track him down.
What are we going to do?