Basil, Olivia and Mrs Judson stared at the front page for a moment, unable to take it in. '' 'Late last night, a young couple claimed to have been approached by an enormous rat wearing a black tuxedo suit, grey vest, red cravat and white gloves,' '' Basil read out loud.

'' 'Several other eye witnesses also reported to Scotland Yard sightings of the rat from late night to early morning, ' '' Olivia said. '' 'Though they never heard a name, the description of the rat implicates the nefarious criminal mastermind Professor Ratigan, who supposedly fell to his death from Big Ben nine years ago after his nephew, the famous detective Basil of Baker Street, foiled his plan to take over Mousedom, and whose body was never recovered …' ''

''The rat's attire certainly fits that despicable monster,'' Mrs Judson agreed.

''It does, but what do you think, William?''

Basil narrowed his eyes at the picture of his uncle. ''Given the timing of it, I suspect this is some sort of trick set by the Viper,'' he declared, ignoring the small twinge that was not so confident. ''That fiend is trying to distract us with this stunt.''

Olivia, however, looked at him with scepticism.

Basil walked over to the phone and called Dawson back and they discussed the news. ''As I said to Olivia and Mrs Judson, it has to be some sort of cruel trick by our slithery friend,'' he said stubbornly, again ignoring the unconfident twinge. ''The timing seems a little too convenient.''

''It is possible,'' Dawson said despairingly, ''but it's also possible that it's not. After all, Ratigan's body was never found, we have since discovered that Ratigan and the Viper were affiliated, and now there is this rat who dresses the way he does. You know what I think, Basil? You don't want to accept the possibility that your uncle might still be alive, which I totally understand given all the atrocities he put everyone through, and you worry about him going after Olivia and Hiram again, but even so –''

''You're wrong, Dawson!'' Basil insisted, and looked at Olivia as though she was dying. ''That's not it! My gut tells me it's trick and that is final!''

''Very well, if you say so,'' Dawson sighed in a defeated voice, figuring it was best to just go along with it. ''Regardless, it definitely needs looking into.''

''Absolutely, and we shall start the first thing in the morning. You take care, doctor,'' the detective said, and hung up. ''Come, Livy, let's turn in, we need the rest,'' he added, and Olivia followed him upstairs.

The couple settled down in bed, Basil holding Olivia close. ''You can't kid me, William, I know for a fact that you don't entirely believe it's the Viper's trick, do you? Don't deny it.''

Basil let out a hesitant sigh. ''No, I don't,'' he admitted weakly. ''I am such a stubborn fool. Dawson was right, I am afraid that Ratigan's alive and that he will come after you or Hiram once more, especially since the Viper will no doubt have informed him that his suspicions about our bond has taken shape. I am afraid he intends to carry out his previous insidious intentions towards you, Livy. Once a vulgar idea entered his head, Ratigan carried it out, no matter what, no matter how long it took – and his reputation for being infatuated with older and younger ladies, particularly beautiful ones, was a big part of his infamy.''

''I'm afraid, too, but you said the other night if he was alive and tried to harm me, you would tear his head of his shoulders before he could even blink – and also, I can handle myself with my fighting skills. He may have brute strength, but my desire to make him pay for kidnapping Daddy and beating you up at Big Ben is more powerful.''

Basil chuckled. ''Agree with every single word. Despite the circumstances, this case has just added another intriguing puzzle.''

Olivia agreed and thought for a moment. ''William, I know this is abrupt, but all this talk about Ratigan has me curious about something: in the original play Hamlet, if I remember correctly, as villainous as he was Claudius did have some remorse, a word Ratigan would never grasp the concept of in a million years, so why was it his most favourite role?''

''Ah, I see what you mean. You're absolutely right, Ratigan would never know repentance if it stared at him in the face. You see, my uncle created his own Claudius, one that was completely ruthless, heartless and lacked any redeeming qualities whatsoever – identical to the monster Ratigan himself eventually became.''

''I see. In that case, perhaps his whole scheme to rule Mousedom was inspired by Claudius?''

''I often wondered about that. Who knows?''

''Since Ratigan is Claudius, that makes you Hamlet.''

''Elementary, my dear Olivia, we are not just Holmes and Moriarty,'' Basil agreed. ''It's appropriate, since like Hamlet, I suffered the depressed loss of my father at my uncle's hands, sought vengeance and my mental state was in question. And you, Livy, are my Ophelia, but hopefully we are not as tragic.''

''I'm sure everything will turn out alright. Now let's get some sleep, Hamlet.''

''Whatever you say, Ophelia,'' Basil chuckled, kissing her forehead, and the two lovebirds went to sleep.

When Basil and Olivia woke up the morning, Mrs Judson had already prepared breakfast. ''I figured you would wake up extra early,'' she said to her employers.''

''Thank you very much, Mrs Judson,'' said Olivia, tucking into her eggs and bacon. ''We needed to be up early since we have a lot of evidence to gather so we can prove the Viper's identity. Not only that, but as we told you last night the Viper also has another target besides me and William.''

''He has been made aware of the situation,'' Basil added. ''As soon as he knows or suspects what that villain is plotting for him he will ring us, which should occur within the next few days.''

Mrs Judson looked solemn, as though she had seen three witches rise from the dead. ''You know, I'm still having trouble taking it in, but if it's what you two have concluded, I don't doubt you for a second. Oh my,'' she added, rubbing her arms, ''what a chilly summer this has been!''

Basil looked at the fireplace and stared at one particular newspaper clipping, his heart racing as though he was anticipating some anxious news. You've been very clever all these years, my dear Viper, but you made a big mistake in underestimating my Livy, he thought, grinning at the Viper doll on the mantle.

''William, since Fidget was spying on us, will our plan be alright?'' Olivia asked worriedly.

''Don't worry, darling, Fidget never heard us discuss anything about the Viper's true identity. Our bedroom curtains were open so we would've seen him. He might've seen me with the Viper doll, but in Fidget's perspective it could've been anything.''

After eating as much as they could, Basil and Olivia donned their usual attire. ''Now, we just need to wait for Helen to appear and –''

Basil was interrupted by a knock at the door. Mrs Judson volunteered to get it and Helen entered, alongside Hiram and – to Basil and Olivia's surprise – Dawson and Pauline, who was wearing a large coat, no doubt to obscure her growing belly, while Helen, Dawson and Hiram wore winter coats.

''Daddy, what are you doing here?'' Olivia asked her father.

''In light of the headline, I really felt I needed to help you, my wee bairn,'' the toymaker replied, hugging his daughter.

''Dawson, I thought you were taking care of Pauline?'' Basil asked the good doctor in puzzlement.

''Like Hiram, I felt my assistance was required, Basil. I did have some reservations because of Pauline's condition,'' he added, looking at his pregnant wife, ''but she insisted I listen to my gut and come. Of course, I agreed, as long as she tagged along, too. I don't want to take any chances.''

''No-one is going to think much of me wearing such a large coat since this summer is unusually cold,'' Pauline pointed out, and everyone agreed.

Basil looked at Dawson. He had promised the next time he saw the good doctor in person, he would thank him for unwittingly saving Olivia from such unspeakable torture, but he knew this wasn't the time. Later for sure, he vowed.

''I never thought we would have to wear winter get-up in summer,'' Helen said, looking at her own coat. ''So what are we going to do, Basil? I saw the headline and I couldn't believe it.''

Basil was about to answer when the door abruptly knocked once more. Olivia answered this time and was stunned to see –

''Juliet and Marianne! This is a surprise!''

Marianne pulled Olivia into a big bear hug. ''Yes, it is!'' she said, and Olivia laughed and let the sisters enter.

''My, Miss Juliet and Miss Marianne,'' Basil said, ''this is most unforeseen.''

They introduced the Richmond sisters to Hiram, Dawson and Pauline.

Hiram said to them it delighted him they had loved the toys he had made for them, and Marianne pulled him into a big hug.

''I'm so sorry about your profound deafness, my dear Juliet, I've met many patients in my time with such a disability, but I'm glad you are not letting it get you down,'' Dawson said to the elder sister through sign language.

''But what brings you here?'' Helen asked, tilting her head.

Juliet looked at Helen. ''I don't mean to pry, Helen, but the other day when you told us about Uncle Gideon's death, I noticed you seemed to keep staring at our father as though you didn't trust him.''

Helen shuffled uncomfortably. ''I was. I'm sorry to say this, but it was because your father is a suspect of being the Viper.''

''That's absurd!'' Marianne said defensively. ''Father would never! He – he wouldn't!''

''Father has been keeping secrets recently, sis,'' Juliet pointed out, placing an arm around her sister, ''and Mother has been upset by it.''

''I-I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation for it,'' Marianne spluttered. ''Mr Basil?'' she added, looking at the detective pleadingly.

Basil looked at Olivia, Dawson, Pauline, Hiram, and Mrs Judson, who all knew the truth, and debated how much to reveal. ''I have a theory on the Viper's true identity,'' he said carefully, ''and I want to gather as much evidence as possible. As for your father, I have two possibilities about his secret, and I am fairly confident on which one it is. Where does your father's friend John Campbell live?''

''Near Regent's Park at number 21 – very close to Uncle Gideon's apartment, conveniently enough,'' Marianne answered. ''And if you're investigating, Juliet and I will help you. We want to help stop that monster from hurting anyone else and clear our father's name.''

Helen looked guilty.

''Are you sure, my dears?'' Mrs Judson asked in her grandmotherly fashion. ''It's very dangerous.''

''We will be careful Mrs Judson, and Marianne would be honoured to work for her celebrity crush,'' Juliet said, looking at Basil with a devilish smirk. She hadn't mastered lip-reading yet, but she saw the housekeeper's concerned face. ''Not to mention, doing something proactive gives me an opportunity to assert my independence despite my disability. I was too shy to say anything before so I apologise, but I've been reading a book about lip-reading, I'm still at the very early stages, and if I socialise with others, I can try it out.''

Everyone stared at the young woman. ''Well said, Juliet,'' Dawson beamed.

Juliet giggled modestly.

''So do we do, William?'' Hiram asked his future son-in-law.

''Well, firstly, I'm glad Juliet and Marianne want to assist us, because with more people participating, it makes my plan easier. Now, with the Viper still at large, my theory on who that scoundrel is, their plan for the mouse besides us, and with the newspaper report that my Uncle Ratigan has allegedly resurrected, we need to engage in several missions at once. We don't have much time.''

Olivia knew what one of them was and whispered something in her lover's ear, to which Basil replied it was perfect. The detective then assigned the jobs to everyone and though some were puzzled, they didn't question it. Though Dawson didn't like it, he reluctantly agreed as it would only be for a few minutes.

''Lastly, Helen, Olivia has just informed me that you have a holiday house in Cornwall, which is why I am allocating this especially important mission to you.''

Basil whispered to Helen what he wanted her to do, and though confused the woman said she would do it.

''Did you say Cornwall, Mr Basil?'' Marianne asked, and her face lit up like as though it was her birthday. ''Can we go with Helen? I've always wanted to go to Cornwall, it's such a beautiful county!''

''I don't know,'' Hiram said uncertainly. ''If you left London by yourselves all of a sudden, your parents would worry.''

''I think we should speak to them first,'' Mrs Judson suggested.

Basil placed his hands on his housekeeper's shoulders. ''Mrs Judson, if Priscilla allows it, I am entrusting you to let Juliet and Marianne know what they need to do. By the way, my dears, I need to ask you not to tell your parents or anyone else about what I have informed you about the Viper. That snake must remain ignorant at all costs, otherwise my plan to apprehend them will go up in smoke. Do you understand? It is of utmost importance.''

Mrs Judson and the sisters said they understand and three remained in the house. The rest of the group, after donning masks, changing their wardrobe and rubbing make-up on their hands to match, left Baker Street and spread out in different directions.


After taking the trolley, Basil, Dawson and Pauline found themselves right outside their destination: the Thames Prison. Basil was wearing a mask with white fur and a black-and white striped suit with a bow that looked like the shape of a bat, as if he was ready for Halloween. It was bit early it but what the heck? Basil had always wanted to wear that bow.

Dawson also wore a mask with light-beige fur, and was dressed in sloppy and unkempt attire, as though he never had a wash (much to his chagrin), while Pauline only wore a mask and kept on her original coat. They entered the station, Dawson holding his wife's hand tightly, and found themselves face-to-face with Inspector Newton at the reception desk, talking to the receptionist, an old mouse with glasses and white hair.

''William, old boy,'' said the inspector, chortling. ''And Doctor Dawson and Mrs Dawson! Yes, I know you're in disguise, I've seen you do it enough to know. Didn't expect to see you again so soon, William, but it shouldn't really be a surprise given the circumstances.'' He resumed his usual serious look, held up the newspaper he had tucked under his arm, and Basil, Dawson and Pauline all glared at the picture of the rat they loathed. ''That is why you have dropped in, I assume?''

''Affirmative,'' Basil said. ''As you know, Inspector Newton, apart from Fidget all of Ratigan's henchmen remain behind bars here. Are they aware of the rumours?''

''Not yet.''

''Good. I would like to speak to them, if I may – specifically, Nathaniel, Bill and Jason.''

''You want to speak to Ratigan's henchmen?'' Inspector Newton repeated in astonishment. ''They might not talk, William.''

''I need to speak to them,'' Basil repeated, more firmly. ''I disguised myself to enter here in case any of the Viper's goons are watching, but I'm going to have to reveal myself to those three, otherwise I won't be able to get the answers I need. They won't just reveal their boss's secrets to a random stranger, they're not that rash. To make it clear, Inspector, I am not leaving until I have conversed with them. I'll stay here all night if I have to.''

''As stubborn as ever,'' Inspector Newton said, chuckling. ''I'll see if we can persuade them to relent.''

''Thank you.''

With a small nod, the inspector went off to speak to someone. Basil, Dawson and Pauline the receptionist. ''Can I be of help in anyway?'' he asked politely.

''Mr Crawford,'' Basil said, ''what were the names of the witnesses who reported the supposed sightings of my uncle?''

''Hmmm, let's see …'' Mr Crawford said, reaching for the pile of papers beside him. ''The couple who first reported it were Walter Dennison and Fiona Tremaine.''

''Where do they live?'' Pauline asked.

''15 Addington Street and 42 Park Lane, respectively. Mr Dennison's stepbrother is actually a policeman himself, but he's currently away on holiday.''

''Fascinating. You got that Dawson? You and Pauline now may be excused,'' Basil said, turning to the doctor.

''Thank heavens,'' Dawson sighed in relief. ''I didn't feel comfortable with Pauline being here.''

Pauline giggled and kiss her husband's cheek. Dawson blushed, saw Basil and Crawford's smirks and coughed. ''Well, dear, let's get going,'' he said quickly, taking his wife's hand and the couple left the station.


Harry Perkins was placing items on the shelves, humming to himself when he heard the shop door open. ''What can I do for you, good customer?'' he asked, looking up. It was a woman with brown fur with a white middle, and was wearing an emerald-green dresses and a flowery hat on her head. He smiled. ''I see Basil has disguised you well, Miss Flaversham.''

Olivia smiled back. ''William warned me you might see through it – after all, he's been buying disguises from you for years – but he told me to dress up regardless, so please act as though you are ignorant, Mr Perkins, and I am Suzanne Pollatschek.''

''Of course. What can I do for you, my dear?''

After making sure no-one was around, Olivia said in a sophisticated British voice, disguising her Scottish accent, ''Well, you said that apart from Miss Thompson, there was another of Mrs Radcliffe's employees who visits here more often than anyone. What can you tell me about them?''

''Well, her name is Evelyn Bellwether, and she is rather mysterious. She has long red hair. She says she is one of the longest-serving employee Mrs Radcliffe has had, and works in the main shop in Oxford I told you about, my dear. She visits here practically every few weeks or so; she says the materials needed to make clothes soon run out.''

''Interesting,'' Olivia said to herself with a concentrated look.

''I'm afraid I can't help you more,'' Harry said apologetically. ''You might want to speak to Miss Thompson, as I believe I did tell you she works in the shop not far from here.''

''I was planning on doing that anyway. Thank you, Harry. Oh, by the way, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about my visit.''

''Don't worry, Miss Pollatschek, your secret is safe with me.''


Back at the prison, Basil was sitting down in one the waiting room's desks, tapping his fingers as he waited. A minute later, Inspector Newton reappeared. ''Inspector?''

''That was unexpected, they needed no persuading. I have a feeling their time in prison has given them food for thought. Follow me, William.''

The detective followed Inspector Newton, passing a cell block that held some prisoners – namely, criminals Basil had apprehended throughout the years. They were snarling, drool dribbling like dogs.

''NEWTON, ANY SIGN OF YOUR GRASS PAL BASIL OF BAKER STREET?''

''CURSE THAT RUNT MEDDLING DETECTIVE!''

''I'LL MAKE HIM PAY!''

''NEXT TIME I SEE HIM I'LL BREAK OUT OF HERE AND CRUSH HIM INTO DUST!''

Though used to these sorts of sorts insults, Basil cringed and was ever so glad he was in disguise. Inspector Newton led him to a room where Nathaniel, Bill the Lizard and Jason were seated at a table, a huge muscular guard standing by the wall opposite from them, his arms folded and glaring at them as though daring them to move. Inspector Newton handed Basil the folded-up newspaper and leaned against the wall. The detective sat down in front of the three former henchmen, placing his hands on the table.

''Bill, Nathaniel, Jason, just the men I wanted to see,'' Basil said in a high voice.

''Do we know you?'' Jason asked, looking puzzled. ''I thought it was Basil of Baker Street who wanted to see us?''

Basil grinned, pulled off his mask and trio gasped.

''Basil!'' Nathaniel exclaimed.

''Yes, it's me. I'm amazed you actually agreed to let me see you.''

''We've had plenty of time to reflect on our behaviour,'' Bill admitted, ''and we have realised Ratigan treated us like dirt and merely duped us with his charm. He was always good at that.''

''Yes he was, given his theatrical talents,'' Basil agreed, replacing his mask and resuming his disguised voice.

''What brings you here?''

''I have some questions I need to ask you,'' Basil said, getting right to the point, ''and I suggest it would be best if you cooperate. And while I am here, I am Jack Skellington.''

The trio looked at each other and nodded. Basil unfolded the paper and handed it to the trio. When they saw the headline, they looked scared and whimpered, as though they were enduring a living nightmare.

''The professor's alive?'' Bill squeaked in a tiny voice, his hands trembling.

''Allegedly,'' Basil replied, ''but that's not the main reason I am here. I assume you three have heard of the Viper's return?''

The three nodded.

''This will come as a surprise to you, but my team and I have recently discovered that, despite what everyone deemed, there was, in fact, a secret affiliation between Ratigan and the Viper.''

''There was?'' the three lackeys said in amazement, looking at each other.

''But the professor never said anything!'' Nathaniel protested. ''He admired the Viper's intelligence, but he hated him as much as he hated you and your father, for taking half of his crown and for what he did to Ruby Mortimer!''

''I suppose it does explain a few things,'' Jason said, his tone a mixture of perplexity and thoughtfulness, ''but why keep it a secret?''

''I have an idea about that, Jason,'' said Basil, ''but in order to confirm it I need to know a few important details. As the only remaining longest-serving henchmen of Ratigan, you three are the best to ask.''

The three looked at one another again. ''We'll tell you everything we know,'' Nathaniel relented, and saw the guard nod approvingly. ''What do you want to ask, Basil – I mean, Mr Skellington?''

''Firstly, did my uncle ever talk about his infamous romance with Miss Mortimer?''

''No. Besides calling him a rat, the one thing we were forbidden to talk about was Miss Mortimer and what the Viper did to her,'' Nathaniel answered. ''If we did, Ratigan would be sent into his usual violent rage and he would, you know …'' He gulped, ''make us food for his cat.''

''A few times some of our friends accidently said the word 'Ruby' and you know what befell them,'' Jason said mournfully. ''I guess you could say was more than one 'R' word that Ratigan couldn't stand hearing.''

''Interesting …'' Basil said, grinning, and turned away to mutter something, so softly the trio couldn't hear him.

''I know you won't believe this,'' Nathaniel added, ''but I believe Ratigan really did love Ruby.''

Basil did not doubt this for a second. Despite everything, apart from Violet, Ruby was the only person that Ratigan had come to close for having any genuine love or affection for.

''Even though he had moved on with another woman,'' Bill added, nodding.

'' 'Moved on'?'' Basil repeated, frowning. ''What do you mean?''

Bill, Nathaniel and Jason looked at one another once more. ''The night he had Fidget kidnap Flaversham,'' Bill started, ''the professor began a big speech about his scheme and …''


To Ratigan! To Ratigan!

The world's greatest criminal miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiind!

All of the thugs bumped their glassed against one another and held them up as praise for their master. Ratigan, sitting in his chair and wearing the royal purple robe and crown he would wear tomorrow night, sipped his wine and displayed his signature smile.

''Thank you, thank you, my friends,'' he said moments later, standing up, ''for that most marvellous performance. From tomorrow night, I will be king, undisputed, respected, saluted and seen for the wonder I am!'' he cackled, removing his purple robe and crown. ''The world's greatest criminal mind … I would like to propose a toast to the only other criminal mastermind who is worthy of that title.''

''You mean the Viper, professor?'' Nathaniel asked. ''Are you sure?''

The boys could understand why given the Viper's smarts, which Ratigan did admire, but they didn't think it could possibly compare to what he had done to the professor's girlfriend and snatched half the crown from him, but they knew better than to question it, at least regarding the former. They didn't want to suffer the same fate as poor Bartholomew just now.

Ratigan chuckled. ''Why not? I'm a gentlemouse, and they are the only villain worthy of my genius. A toast to the Viper!'' the professor added, lifting up his wine glass.

''To the Viper!'' Ratigan's gang chimed, raising their glasses.

''You know, boss, I still find it hard to believe it's been three years now since the Viper retired,'' said Jason, ''he was more than a match for you – but, of course, I always knew you would prevail in the end,'' he added quickly.

''How very kind of you to say so, Jason, but the Viper will always live in infamy, just like my wonderful scheme.'' The professor sipped his wine again.

''Do you think we'll ever see him again?'' Bill asked anxiously. ''Those voodoo dolls always gave me the creeps.''

''Oh, they did, did they, Bill?'' Ratigan asked in amusement. ''I'm not surprised. The Viper is one of a kind, after all. And who knows? He's not dead, he simply went underground, so perhaps we will see the Viper again.'' He turned away and muttered something, but his henchmen couldn't hear what was being said.

''If he does return,'' Nathaniel added, ''do you think we will finally learn his true identity? I've had many different ideas about who he could be. What do you think, boss?''

Ratigan finished off his wine before answering. ''Who knows?'' he said calmly. ''But let's leave the Viper be for now and focus on the biggest scheme of my diabolical career.''

''Of course, professor.''

After Ratigan told his men he wanted to be alone for a bit, they all left their boss in peace. Sometime after this, Nathaniel, Bill and Jason were huddled together in a corner, talking about Ratigan's plan. There was something regarding the plan that concerned them and, against their better judgement, decided to ask the professor about it. Perhaps, given he was in such a good mood, he wouldn't be mad at them.

The trio peaked into the main barrel. Ratigan was sitting in his throne, writing in one of his journals and laughing to himself.

''Uh … boss?''

Ratigan looked up. ''What is it?'' he asked, now looking annoyed, and the trio flinched at their boss's scary look.

''There – there is something about your plan we were curious about, sir,'' Bill said meekly, as they entered the barrel.

Ratigan looked at them with a scowl. ''Oh, and what is that? Do you see a problem with my plan?''

''Of course not, professor,'' Nathaniel said quickly. ''It's just that, if you're going to become king, then won't you need to, you know, find a bride and produce heirs to ensure your bloodline carries on ruling?''

There was a nervous pause, before Ratigan giggled and placed his fingers on his forehead. ''I was hoping to keep this under wraps until tomorrow evening, but since you boys have asked so nicely, and since I am in such a good mood, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you. My queen is all set.''

''You have her then?'' Jason asked in wonder. ''You mean you have finally moved on from Ru …'' He saw Ratigan raise an eyebrow with a warning look. ''I mean, Ronald Mortimer's daughter?''

''Yes … and no. Ruby is, and will always be, the love of my life,'' Ratigan sighed blissfully, looking completely love-struck. ''She was the most amazing woman I had ever met – she was smart, beautiful and she understood me. Ruby and I were made for each other. We formed a real connection, what we had was passionate and mutual and no-one could ever replace her – but with much effort, my bride is rather … satisfactory. We will become king and queen and rule Mousedom together, and we will have little ones running around, sons and daughters who will inherit our brains and I will spoil them rotten.''

Nathaniel, Bill and Jason looked at one another, still stunned by the revelation that Ratigan had a new girlfriend in place of Miss Mortimer. They really wanted details on her but daren't ask.

Ratigan stood up from his chair and walked over to his three minions with a dangerous look that made them cower. ''And you will serve her as you serve me!'' he warned, jabbing a finger at their chests. ''You will obey her every whim!''

''Of course, boss,'' Nathaniel said quickly. ''We – we can't wait to meet our mistress. But who is she?'' he added curiously.

Ratigan giggled. ''Why spoil the surprise? All will be revealed tomorrow night ...''

They accepted their boss's answer and turned around to leave the barrel.

''Oh, and boys?''

They faced Ratigan once more. ''Yes, professor?'' Jason asked.

''I would appreciate it if you three kept this to yourselves, because if you don't …'' Ratigan said with his crafty grin, pulling out the gold-yellow bell, making the three henchmen whimper.

''Right, professor!'' they said simultaneously, throwing him a military salute and scurried out of the barrel.


''But, of course, we never found who she was, since you foiled his plan,'' Bill finished.

''A secret queen, huh,'' Basil said sounding intrigued. ''You know, the second I realised what my uncle's scheme was I did wonder about that, but I always thought he was too blinded by his hunger for power to register that factor, but apparently not. And what is this 'important business' you speak of?''

''You idiot!'' Nathaniel said, nudging Bill in the ribs with his elbow. ''If the professor really is still alive, he will kill us for revealing his top secret to his nephew!''

''That may he case, if he is alive,'' Basil said, ''but I need you to tell me everything you know about this 'important business' regardless. After all, you promised to cooperate, and I would appreciate if you obliged.''

Basil's tone made it clear he as not to be messed with.

With a nod from Nathaniel, Jason said, ''One night, about seven years before his death, Ratigan announced that starting from that night he would occasionally need to leave the lair for a few hours to attend to some 'important business', but he warned everyone not to ask him questions about it or try to follow him, unless they wanted to be fed to Felicia.''

''How often would he make these 'important business' trips, Jason?''

''It varied, but it was usually about twice or three times a week. Certainly a few times a month. And some nights he would leave and not return until the next day. The very first time he did, he suddenly had that bell with him, said it had been given to him as a gift from someone, and one of our men asked who so Ratigan … you know. The departures became more frequent three years before his supposed death.''

''Three years …'' Basil repeated in a voice of deep thought. ''Did this 'important business' have anything to do with the fortnight trip he took to Paris?''

''I'm afraid we don't know,'' Bill said, shaking his head. ''The professor never said, he just told us his brain needed to recuperate from all of his scheming. There's not much more we can tell you about it, Bas – Mr Skellington.''

Basil could see in Bill's eyes he was telling the truth and accepted his answer. ''Lastly, how did Ratigan react when he heard about my thwarting the Viper's orphanage slain attempt?''

''Oh, he was furious,'' Nathaniel said darkly, ''so furious it's indescribable, but when he read that you injured the Viper's left arm, he erupted like a volcano – he ripped the paper up into little pieces, burnt your picture with his cigarette and was more determined than ever to wringe your neck, Mr Skellington, as you 'had crossed a very delicate line' as Ratigan put it.''

''We were confused by this,'' Jason added, ''because why would your uncle be angry about it? After thinking it over, however, we concluded that since you had used fire on the Viper it had brought back memories of his sister's death.''

''That's what I also determined at the time,'' Basil agreed, nodding, ''but now I don't think so. I believe it was to avenge the Viper, since I have already indicated that there was a personal connection between them.''

''And I guess can't tell us what it is?'' Nathaniel asked, his voice displaying a hint of curiosity.

''Not yet, but once we have apprehended that scoundrel, you will learn the truth,'' Basil said, standing up. ''That's all the questions I have for you. Thank you, gentlemen, for accommodating.''

''You're welcome,'' the trio said together.

''Oh, and boys,'' Basil added, ''if anyone else happens to visit you, it will be either the Viper or one of their lackeys in disguise, so I ask if you keep quiet about my little visit. They might even tell you it's me, but don't say anything. Understand? It's vitally important.''

The trio said they understood and Basil picked up the newspaper and left the room with Inspector Newton, leaving the guard to get back to looking at the trio as though he was going it eat them. Inspector Newton assured Basil they would let anyone else see the three unless it was him.


Hiram entered the library, just as Basil had instructed him to. He was dressed like a schoolteacher and had on a mask with brown fur. The toymaker made his way over to the newspaper archives, scouring for the year ''1888''.

''Ah, here you are!'' Hiram said in delight, but looked slightly bewildered when he saw how high the archives were, they looked like mountains. ''Oh, my, that's more than I anticipated!''

He grabbed the pile of papers that were under the name ''April 1888'' and started reading through them carefully. ''Let's see … missing persons … missing persons …'' After scouring, Hiram eventually found only one that matched the timing and details Basil had suspected, and asked the librarian if he could use the phone. After all, it was part of the plan that Basil waited at the police station until Hiram had found what they were looking for.

''Hello?'' said a voice Hiram hadn't heard in years but recognised.

''Hello, Inspector,'' Hiram whispered. ''It's –''

''Hiram Flaversham. Yes, William informed me of your plan He's been waiting since interrogating Ratigan's henchmen. I'll pass him over.''

Hiram waited for a second. ''Hiram, I assume you've found a match?'' said Basil's voice.

''Mary Grant is her name, she disappeared on the 6th April 1888 and she's definitely a …''

Basil laughed in triumph, and Hiram heard him asking someone about Mary Grant's details. ''Hiram, Miss Grant has a brother who lives in London and has been persisting the police for a breakthrough in his sister's disappearance these past eighteen years! Inspector Newton and I will meet you at 32 Pottery Lane.''

''One of the poorer districts,'' Hiram said gravely, shaking his head, ''but we must go there.''


Dawson and Pauline arrived at number 15 Addington Street, hoping to speak to either Mr Dennison and Miss Tremaine about what they had viewed. The good doctor knocked on the door and a young woman about in her mid-20s answered. She had brown fur and dark navy-blue eyes. ''Oh, hello, can I help you?''

''Good day, madam,'' Dawson said politely. ''We are looking for a Mr Walter Dennison or Miss Fiona Tremaine.''

''I'm Fiona Tremaine,'' said the woman. ''Walter's parents have gone for some food shopping.''

''I see. May we come in?''

Fiona's eyes widened and looked Dawson up and down carefully. ''Come in.''

The Dawsons entered the parlour and Fiona closed the door. ''You're undercover, aren't you?'' she asked shrewdly, smiling. ''You're here to ask about last night's sighting.''

''What?'' Dawson said, surprised at the woman's perceptiveness. ''How did you – I mean, what are you talking about?'' He saw Fiona's look and knew it was futile to carry on denying it. ''Is it to do with Walter's stepbrother?''

''We've seen him go undercover in such get-up many times.''

''Fair enough,'' Dawson said, ''but I appreciate it if you keep this to yourselves, my dear. I am Val Bettin.''

''Very well, Mr Bettin,'' Fiona said, giggling. ''Don't worry, I won't tell, because of Walter's stepbrother I know all about the importance of undercover work. You certainly know how to disguise well.''

''He does,'' Pauline agreed, also giggling, and Dawson frowned in embarrassment, ''and I am Mr Bettin's assistant, Miss Flora Fauna-Maryweather.''

Fiona nodded.

Dawson could read that this girl was sincere. ''Now, Miss Tremaine, can you tell us what happened?''

''It was late last night; I'd say about sometime between ten and eleven. Walter and I were having a romantic stroll near Regent's Park, enjoying the moonlit night, when I suddenly heard a scream nearby. I wanted to have a look, but Walter rejected the notion, saying he didn't want anything to ruin our night. We then heard a noise so Walter investigated, but I believed that Walter had asked one of his friends to stage some ominous occurrence so he could play the part of my knight in shining armour, he often likes to play the hero to me, Walter does. I then felt a hand in my shoulder, but I was still convinced it was one of Walter's friends. Walter was staring at me as though I had two heads. I turned around and that's when we saw him – this huge rat wearing a tuxedo suit, cravat and gloves, like a respectable and dignified member of society. He stared down at us with a familiar toothy grin.''

''Did he say anything to you?'' Pauline asked.

''No, Miss Fauna-Maryweather, he didn't all he did grin at us. We just stood there, still as statues, before we screamed and ran for our lives. There was only one menacing rat who was known for dressing in such proper attire so we reported it to Scotland Yard immediately.''

''So he never actually said if he was Ratgian …'' Dawson said thoughtfully, looking at his wife. ''Where is Walter, Miss Tremaine?''

''In bed. I'm afraid he is still in a state of shock, and I spent the night here after our scare.''

''Is there anything else you can tell us?'' Pauline said. ''Did you actually see the rat's face?''

''It was obscured in the shadows and he never moved into the light,'' Fiona said apologetically. ''I'm sorry, Mr Bettin, Miss Fauna-Maryweather, I'm afraid that's everything I can tell you.''

Dawson could see in her eyes she was not lying. ''Thank you very much for your time, Miss Tremaine. Flora and I will take our leave.''

''You and Walter take care,'' Pauline said in a caring big sister fashion, and with one last nod the undercover couple departed.

''Fiona, who were you talking to?'' called Walter's shaky voice from upstairs.

''Mr Bettin and Miss Fauna-Maryweather.''

''Who?''

Fiona smiled.


After walking a few blocks from Harry's, Olivia had finally arrived at Mrs Radcliffe's local shop. She looked up at the door sign that said ''RADCLIFFE CLOTHES'' and stared at the door, her heart pounding, as though she was about to take one of her college tests, and entered the shop. The young woman looked around in wonder, there were rows and shelfs filled with wonderful and beautifully designed children's clothes: baby clothes, skirts, dresses, shorts, shirts, socks shoes and an assortment of different coloured hats and scarfs for winter, even though it wasn't that time of year just yet.

''Can I help you, ma'am?''

Olivia snapped out of her daze and looked up to see Rebecca Thompson standing right in front of her, carrying a small box.

''Hello. Is Mrs Radcliffe here?'' she asked in her disguised voice.

''She's at the Oxford shop. I can ring her if you want, if you have a request order.''

''That won't be necessary. It's just, I've been thinking about working for Mrs Radcliffe as I admire her work, but I wanted to learn a bit about how this place works first before deciding.''

''Oh, I see. I have one more box of clothes to display but once I'm done you can ask me anything you want to know, Miss …?''

''Suzanne Pollatschek,'' Olivia said. ''And you are?''

''Rebecca Thompson. You can have a look around if you like for a few minutes.''

Olivia nodded and watched Rebecca disappear behind a shelf. Her curiosity enticed, she did indeed look down a few isles of clothes, marvelled at how much detail was out unto these creations. Whoever was in charge of actually making these attires obviously put a lot of living care into their work. Who?

Minutes later, Rebecca reappeared. ''There you are, Miss Pollatschek! Now, what did you want to know?''

Olivia looked around. ''I don't see anyone else around.''

''All the girls that work here are on their lunch break, but I wanted to carry on working and have lunch later.''

''So all of Mrs Radcliffe's employees are females?'' Olivia asked slowly in a voice of interest. ''Would you say you now most of them?''

''Mrs Radcliffe wanted to give women jobs besides just being a housewife, and yes, I've one of the longest-serving employees so I know everyone.''

Olivia felt an uncomfortable twinge at that first part. ''I see.'' She coughed. ''So how does it work? Who designs and makes the clothes?''

''There's a factory section at the Oxford shop – that gives you an idea of the size of it - where the girls design the clothes that Mrs Radcliffe adds or corrects details herself, then they are sent to all the shops. However, a majority of the time, it's Mrs Radcliffe who makes the clothes as it is what she mainly does.''

''Really?'' Olivia asked, caught off-guard. ''Mrs Radcliffe makes them herself?''

''That's partly why we admire her. I've never known anyone else that can knit and sew as fast while still retaining an amazing level of quantity. You'd be surprised at how many clothes she manufactures in one day. Thousands! She spends most of her days in a big room in the Oxford shop, designing, pinning, tucking, knitting and sewing!''

''I see …''

''I remember one time nine years ago, I was working at the Oxford shop because a few of the girls who work there had come down a summer flu, so they were short-staffed. In the room I mentioned, Mrs Radcliffe forbids us from entering unless she personally asks for our assistance, gut this was especially secretive about it. She said she was working on two particular items of clothing that were top-secret for a 'very valued client'.''

''Interesting … Did you see the designs of these clothing?''

''Mrs Radcliffe threw the sketches in the fire so we never saw it. I've always been curious about it as it was very mysterious.''

''Miss Thompson there's one more thing I would like to ask out of curiosity,'' Olivia said, steadying her voice carefully so as not to sound too eager. ''I had a look around at Harry Perkins's craft shop and he says most of the material for the clothes are brought from there, and he also informed me there was one particular worker who buys more than anyone. Her name is Evelyn Bellweather. What can you tell me about her? She sounds very dedicated.''

''Evelyn Bellweather? Hmm, I think Mrs Radcliffe has mentioned her but no-one has ever actually seen her.''

Olivia stared at her face carefully and could see no lies.

''Has anything helped you, Miss Pollatschek?''

''I think so. Thinking about everything I've just heard, I don't think clothes design work is for me. Thank you very much, Miss Thompson. Oh, I think it would be best if you didn't tell Mrs Radcliffe about me. I don't want a job so it there would be no point in telling her.''

''That's very true, Mrs Radcliffe is nice but she can get a little irritable if disturbed for no reason. Given all the work she does it's no wonder.''


Basil and Inspector Newton met up with Hiram outside 32 Pottery Lane. It was one of the most depressed-looking houses they had ever seen, small and squalid with cracked windows that looked as though they were pulling a surly face, and a few roof tiles missing.

''The human owners and Mr Grant muse be very poor if they live here,'' Hiram said sympathetically.

''Yes,'' sighed Inspector Newton. ''Remember what I told you, Mr Grant is very agitated and impatient, but he will talk if the subject is about his sister's disappearance, he's been hounding us about it for years.''

''It's a good thing that's why we are here then,'' Basil said, and knocked on the door.

After a few minutes, the door opened to reveal a very thin rat that looked about Hiram's height. He was very dishevelled and smelly so it was clear he hadn't had a bath in a long time. He was wearing a black jacket with a crumpled shirt that was buttoned up wrong, and trousers that was filled with holes as though insects had chewed at them.

''What do you want, Inspector Newton?'' he asked rudely, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't spoken in ages.

''Hello, Nicholas, I have come to see you with my associates, Mr Jack Skellington and Mr –''

''Alan Young,'' Hiram jumped in.

''They don't look like members of Scotland Yard,'' Nicholas said carelessly, and pointed at Basil. ''He looks as though Halloween has come. Get your dates right, it's not for another few months.''

''I know that very well, Mr Grant, but I just like dressing up like this,'' Basil invented.

Nicholas snorted and began to push the door forward. ''Whatever. Go away!''

Basil stuck his foot out to stop the door from shutting. ''Forgive me, Mr Grant, but we are here because of your sister's disappearance.''

Nicholas's expression softened. ''Mary? Have you found her at long last?''

''Not exactly,'' Hiram said slowly, altering his Scottish accent slightly, ''but we may have an idea about the circumstances surrounding her vanishing act.''

''I suppose that's something, at least. Very well, come in,'' Nicholas grunted, opening the door and letting the three men inside to the living room.

Though not surprised, the three men were still appalled by Nicholas's living conditions. There was only one small chair that had holes of stuffing poking out, while the rest of the of the sitting ''furniture'' consisted of medium-sized boxes, on which the three guests gingerly perched themselves. The rest of the living room was bare, apart from the fireplace mantle, on which stood framed pictures of him with his parents and a girl that was presumably Mary.

Basil took one look at her and stared. He definitely saw a resemblance, but these were of when she younger.

''I suppose you will be wanting some tea?'' Nicholas grunted.

''We are fine, thank you,'' Basil said politely.

Nicholas disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a glass and a large bottle of wine. He sat down in his uncomfortable chair.

''I'm sorry you have to live in such conditions, Mr Grant,'' Hiram said mournfully, genuinely concerned. ''Inspector Newton says you are unemployed, so how is it you have not been turfed out?''

Nicholas poured some wine into his glass and sipped it. ''A good friend of mine who sympathises with my plight has been paying my bills all these years. I will forever be grateful to him.''

''You haven't always loved like this, have you?'' the toymaker persisted.

''I used to live a better house and neighbourhood with my parents and my sister, but after she went missing and my folks moved away, it all went spiralling downhill. But I thought you came here to talk about Mary, not me?'' he added irritably.

''Of course,'' said Basil. ''Inspector Newton has already informed us on the details but I need to hear it from you. What exactly happened that day in April?''

''I remember it like it was yesterday. Mary had just turned eighteen. She left the house around lunchtime to buy some milk as we had run out, but that was the last time my parents and I ever saw her. By evening we knew something was wrong, so my folks called Scotland Yard to investigate but they found nothing. No blood, Mary's hat, no leads, nothing! After a few months those lazy detectives gave up the search saying it was fruitless, they were sorry but there was nothing more they could do. Mother and Father were heartbroken so they moved away from London, but I promised them I would stay here until the truth about what happened to Mary was revealed. As your friend,'' he nodded at Inspector Newton, ''will have told you, I have hounded Scotland Yard ever since, but matter how much I do they have never reopened the case. My heart aches everyday not knowing what happened what to my beloved sister. It has been eighteen years and I have never given up hope that she is still alive, she could be out there somewhere, held captive by some loony for all I know, and you detectives never do anything! Never! Disgusting!''

He drank some more wine.

''Mr Grant,'' Inspector Newton said patiently, ''I feel for you, I really do, and I would gladly reopen up the investigation, but there have never been any new leads.''

''But as I said,'' Hiram added, ''Mr Skellington and I have an idea of what may have happened.''

''And what is that?'' Nicholas demanded.

''Before we tell you that,'' said Basil, ''I need to ask you one thing: are you absolute Mary's case was that of a missing person?''

''Positive. The shop was near our house so it wouldn't take Mary so long, and she was never the type to just wander off. And before you ask, no, there wasn't anyone we knew who would want to hurt her, which was why her vanishing shocked everyone. Mary was well-loved in our neighbourhood.''

''He's right, Jack,'' Inspector Newton said to Basil. ''We talked to all the neighbours and there was not one bad word to say about Miss Grant.''

''That correct,'' Nicholas agreed. ''Now what is your idea, Skellington?''

Basil sucked in a deep breathe. ''Well, Mr Grant, I do agree she went missing, but if my theory is correct, the person behind her disappearance was in fact the Viper!''

Nicholas swallowed some more wine and looked thoughtful. ''The Viper,'' he spat. ''Yes, I have always believed that vermin was responsible, because it coincided with his slaughter of the Mortimer family and making his presence known to Mousedom.''

''That's what I thought. Did you ever receive any voodoo dolls from that scoundrel, Mr Grant?''

''Never.''

As I suspected, the detective thought.

''If that monster really was behind my sister going missing,'' Nicholas growled, standing up, shaking in fury, ''I will tear him apart into iddy biddy tiny little pieces! And if it surmises that murdered her, I will do something much worse!''

''Mr Grant, please calm down!'' Hiram said, standing up and gently placing Nicholas back down in his chair.

Basil, meanwhile, felt his stomach turn as if he had a bug. He simply didn't have the heart to tell Nicholas the rest of his theory, for it he was correct it would send Nicholas downhill even more. Instead, he simply asked his burning question: ''Mr Grant, do you have a recent picture of Mary before she disappeared, a coloured one in possible?''

''I do have a portrait of her we asked to be painted in the aftermath. Mother and Father have copy also.''

Basil asked if he could see it, as it would help solve the case. Nicholas nodded and went upstairs. He returned a minute later with a framed picture. The instant he saw it, Basil felt as though his eyes would pop out the sockets. He stared at the picture long and hard, unable to believe it, but it fuelled his suspicions. ''Mr Grant, did your sister have five fingers, as rats do?''

''Yes she did.''

''Thank you for your time, Mr Grant, we have all the information we need. Alan, Inspector Newton, let us take our leave.''

As Nicholas poured himself some more wine, the three mice departed the house and walked toward the nearest trolley stop.

''I don't what you deduced, William,'' said Inspector Newton, ''but I can tell you are satisfied with your visits?''

''Elementary. We are nearly there. Alan,'' he added, turning to Hiram and using his alias, ''I want you return to Baker Street. I will meet you all there in a bit, Inspector Newton and I have one more visit to make …''


A rather lot of interesting stuff going on, but what does it have to do with Basil's theory on the Viper's identity?

What did happen to Mary Grant?

I won't lie, it was fun thinking up the characters' aliases that were references to Disney films.

Yes, Ratigan quoted one of Scar's lyrics from Be Prepared. Couldn't resist. I always thought that song fitted Ratigan, and it gives him another connection to both Scar and Claudius, since The Lion King was loosely inspired by Hamlet.

Time to answer some reviews:

MillenniumPrincess: Yes, we are working towards the climax and the twists and turns are not over just yet. It was sort of implied in the film that Olivia's mother was deceased so I always knew Basil would eventually ask Olivia about what happened to her. It is sad, but Hiram and Olivia know she is watching over them. And I said, I have always been curious about how Fidget got his crippled wing and peg-leg and how he entered Ratigan's employment. Will his family and Lavender forgive him? We shall see.

Next time, answers regarding the shadowed figure are revealed. Is it Ratigan?

See you soon!