Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid: In Fear Can Be Fatal & the Aunt from the Blood Lagoon

By Paul Shaw

2 Excitement-packed Escapades!!


FEAR CAN BE FATAL:

Beware the moor at night when the moon is high, the shadows long and the pubs closed thats when the Phantom Fiery Giraffe haunts the land!

The sinister Snakecharmer strikes leaving the Umbrella Kid stricken with a slight case of Ophidiophobia (fear of snakes). He is packed off to the exclusive mountain-top Phobia Clinic of famous Doctor Balthazar Batkiss, where he discovers all manner of mystery: mountainside ghost-train rides, an exiled dictator laden with the stolen Crown Jewels of Qvania, not to mention a Giant Brain throbbing away in the basement!

Meanwhile, Captain Cat is up to his wire whiskers in even more mystery: why have all the workers at a fly-spray factory been replaced with gangsters armed with tubas and trombones? Why is an African witchdoctor dancing out on the moors in the dead of night? And just why are all the locals so afraid of the eerie Phantom Fiery Giraffe?

Before this Harrowing Adventure is over, Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid will learn that Fear Can Be Fatal!


THE AUNT FROM THE BLOOD LAGOON:

Acid peach-bombs pelt Captain Cats penthouse HQ, an unprovoked attack by perfidious gangster The Peach! A berserk robot postman batters at the front door! A giant gorilla kidnaps Aunt Titania!

What does it all mean? The trail leads Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid to murky Blood Lagoon and the Horrors stirring within the submerged, seemingly long-abandoned Tix Top Toaster factory

Sinister sextuplets, the Tix Brothers, are hatching an Insane Plot: to appropriate (ie steal) the amazing Captain Cat Crime Catalogue Computer! To achieve this goal, they unleash the Greatest Horror to Ever Walk the Earth an army of android aunts, marching up out of Blood Lagoon and invading Maxburg City.

Will Captain Cat be able to put a spanner in their works? Will the Umbrella Kid, cornered by bossy aunts, finally be forced to tidy his room or will he have to take the only means of escape: leaping out of the window of the thirteenth tallest building in the world?

The Aunt From the Blood Lagoon Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kids Most Awesome, Epic Adventure ever!!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jun 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503506107

Paul Shaw

Author bio coming soon

Book preview

FEAR CAN BE FATAL

01.

Whassat?

Billy, replied Captain Cat. Please don’t speak with your mouth full.

Billy Gubbins, aka the Umbrella Kid, the junior member of Maxburg City’s prestigious Super Hero For Hire firm, swallowed his mouthful of chicken and chutney sandwich. He tried again: What’s that noise? Can’t you hear it?

That eerie fluting like a wailing, tormented ghost haunting the silent shadows of a midnight long past?

Somethin’ like that.

I’ve no idea. Shall we find out?

Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid had been engaged as night watchmen in the mansion belonging to Sir Mortimer Muchlettuce, the multiquadzillionaire newspaper & television tycoon. If any of his guests had been passing through the upstairs gallery that moment in search of a late night snack, they would have been most disturbed by the above conversation. Particularly as it was coming from a grandfather clock and a suit of medieval armour…

The Umbrella Kid was disguised as the grandfather clock. It had two peepholes below the clock face. It also had room inside for a cache of chicken and chutney sandwiches (the Kid always got hungry on these long vigils).

Next to the clock was Captain Cat, concealed within the armour. His green eyes could just be glimpsed through the helmet’s visor.

Suddenly the eerie fluting sounded again.

The suit of armour tilted its head. That sound’s coming from outside, it whispered. From the roof to be exact. Let’s investigate. Quietly. ‘On little cat’s feet’ is our motto.

Before the grandfather clock could reply, Captain Cat had shed his armour. Billy had no idea how the Cap’n had got out of it so fast. A zip up the back?

However, when Billy attempted to evacuate his grandfather clock with similar speed, he didn’t succeed. The clock tipped over, levelling itself on the oak floor with a BONNGGABONNGAWUMMPH!! It also began tolling three o’clock at the top of its voice. Overhead, the phantom fluting ceased.

Captain Cat was most annoyed, particularly as it was still two and a half minutes to three o’clock.

Billy looked suitably abashed as he rose from the wreckage. He didn’t think it wise to offer the Captain a chicken and chutney sandwich as a peace offering. I s’pose this is where I get a stern ticking off? he said. Believe me, if I could wind the clock back on this I would!

However, any reprimands on the Captain’s part were put on hold. Door after door lining the long gallery were opening, bedroom lights spilling out, and sleepy, startled people were wondering what all the hullaballoo was about.

With a sigh, Captain Cat stepped forward to explain.

Swapping a half-eaten sandwich for an umbrella, Billy trickled after his Boss to lend a hand.

Sir Mortimer Muchlettuce was at the head of the mob confronting the Captain. He was a silver-haired gentleman with a face as tanned and as scored as a chunk of sunbaked driftwood. Peeping out from behind him and squeaking excitedly was his wife, Lady Margaret Muchlettuce. She was a timid, mouse-like woman, bundled up in a furry chocolate-brown bathrobe.

What is the meaning of this, Captain? Sir Mortimer demanded. I thought the plan was for you to stay undercover until our phantom jewel thief was caught?

Before the Captain could reply, a large, stout woman with the bearing and nose of a Valkyrie shrieked: Jewel thief? You hear that, Jerry? And all my precious jewels left unguarded! Come, Jerry. We must check on them at once. And she propelled her large, broad-shouldered, walrus-moustached husband back into their room, before he even had time to open his mouth.

Billy knew this couple: Mr and Mrs Gottrox. Mr Jeremiah Gottrox was another multiquadzillionaire, and Billy couldn’t help thinking that a multiquadzillionaire should be able to afford a better pair of jim-jams than the baggy, blue-and-white striped, string-belted ones currently worn.

Zoundz and gadzookz! another of Sir Mortimer’s guests spluttered. He was a small, plump man with an extraordinary moustache. I muzt check my diamond cufflinkz! And he darted back inside his room. He wore, for the record, purple silk pyjamas with frog-green spots, and Billy winced at their dazzling brightness.

Billy had also met this person before: Auguste Septembre, the world famous artist. His last painting, Sewing Machine Reclining Nude Against a Tuscan Tomato, had sold for a record $836,000.23.

As a matter of fact, all of Sir Mortimer’s guests weren’t short of a penny. Apart from Mr Septembre and Mr and Mrs Gottrox, there was the rotund, glossy-bearded Maharajah of Instantee, wrapped in a large orange turban and richly-patterned brown and yellow dressing-gown, and leaning on a carved ivory-handled walking-stick; Mrs Gertrude Crunchie, the bestselling mystery writer, who looked not unlike a friendly hippopotamus (albeit one in lemon yellow men’s pyjamas); and the tall, beautiful Tammi Cheesewinder, the international model, who wore, for this evening only, a stunning off-the-shoulder satin negligee with deceptively simple gossamer frills, matching velvet-lined slip-ons and, plastered over her face, a $66.99 avocado facepack.

Please, please allow me to explain, Sir Mortimer pleaded with his alarmed and upset friends. We’ve all seen the news lately, about that mysterious jewel thief burglarizing the homes of the rich and famous. Well, knowing this little get-together at my place could prove a likely target, I took precautions. Jerry Gottrox has often told me how Captain Cat and the Umbrella Kid saved the Gottrox family jewels from that rogue Dr Daffodil. Seems the Captain is the best Crook Catcher in the business - and I only hire the best.

Captain Cat took this glowing testimonial as his cue. I’ve studied accounts of previous outrages, he began. And, like this one, they all share four Interesting Features. One: how does our elusive thief enter and exit completely locked rooms? Two: is he disguised as one of the residents? Three: if so, why is it that despite rigorous searches no stolen jewellery has ever been found? Four: how - ?

But the Captain’s fourth Interesting Feature was not to be divulged at that moment. He was interrupted by an ear-blasting scream and Mrs Gottrox bursting out of her room, her husband in tow. My ruby brooch! she shrilled. It’s gone. Stolen!

There was an instant hubbub from the Muchlettuces and their guests.

Captain Cat looked at Billy.

Billy looked at Captain Cat.

The mystery jewel robber had struck again - right under their very noses!

02.

Someone - anyone- do something! Mrs Gottrox demanded.

Mr Gottrox put a comforting arm around her. There, there, m’dear, he rumbled. Don’t fret. See, Captain Cat’s on the scent already.

Indeed he was. He sprang into the Gottrox’s bedroom. Billy sprang after him. The others attempted the same but got jammed in the doorway.

Where was the brooch? the Captain wanted to know.

On the dressing-table, replied Mr Gottrox, shouldering his way in.

Captain Cat studied said article of furniture. It was covered in jewellery boxes, scattered rings, perfume bottles and tubs of cold cream. Billy studied it as well, and noticed a curious squiggle in a patch of spilt face-powder. He examined it more closely, perhaps too closely. He sneezed violently, blowing most of the clue away. But not before the Captain had spotted it too. Looks – looked - like a back-to-front letter S, he murmured.

Or a sloppy number 2, sniffled Billy, helping himself to Mrs Gottrox’s tissues. D’you think the Mystery Robber left it as a sorta calling-card?

Perhaps.

How thrilling! gushed Gertrude Crunchie from the doorway. "Just like the strange runic symbol in purple paint on the wall of the poisoned opera-singer’s room in my book, Mystery of the Purple Ear."

Captain Cat padded about the plush, high-ceilinged room. The window was firmly shut, and peering out of it, he could see by the bright moonlight that the neat flowerbed two floors below was unmarked by either footprints or ladder indents.

Billy, meanwhile, was investigating the only other possible means of entrance: an open fireplace. However, the chimney proved to be far too narrow. Not even a small child could climb down it, let alone an adult burglar, even one with a drainpipe figure, Billy reckoned. As for the fireplace itself, apart from a thin layer of grey ash from a long extinct blaze, it was empty. Billy wrinkled his nose. Was that a faint mark in the ash…?

About the size of a ten cent piece, remarked Captain Cat, peering over Billy’s shoulder, his whiskers tickling Billy’s cheek.

Unfortunately further examination of this singular spot was interrupted by a strangled shriek. It came from the vocal cords of Auguste Septembre. My cufflinkz have been, how you zay, pinched! And one of my tiez - he iz gone too!

There was another concentrated rush to witness this latest outrage, Captain Cat in the lead. The little artist’s bedroom was virtually identical to the Gottroxes’s, observed Billy, even down to another faint spot in the fireplace dust.

The Captain was getting an earful from Mr Septembre: "My cufflinkz, I plaze them on the drezzing-table here. Over the back of thiz nearby chair I place a zelection of magnifizent, hand-stitched Italian zilk ties for me to chooze from in the morning. Zee, there are four and one iz gone. No, no. Wait… Mr Septembre smote his forehead. I am miztook. No tie iz mizzing after all. I remember everything. I did only hang there four tiez. But when that crash awakenz me from my repoze, I am zwitching on the bedzide light and…and I diztinctly zee five tiez!? Iz the great Auguste Septembre cuckoo?"

Captain Cat forwent answering that question. He began tugging thoughtfully at his whiskers, and Billy reckoned if he listened carefully he would be able to hear the Captain’s brain whirring in top gear.

In India many strange things I am seeing, the Maharajah said, hoping to break the lull in conversation. Fakirs climbing up ropes and vanishing - pop! - into thin air. So jewels and ties that are here then not here are as nothing.

Has something been stolen? Tammi Cheesewinder asked. She had been a little slow keeping up with all these revelations.

Captain Cat ceased whisker-tugging. I need to examine everyone’s rooms! he announced.

I am sure none of us will object, said Sir Mortimer.

While the Captain inspected the bedrooms, Billy kept close by him. He hoped to notice whatever the Captain noticed. But since the Captain was in one of his ‘cat-got-your-tongue’ moods, he (Billy) had no idea if what he (Billy again) noticed would match with what the Captain noticed - if in fact he (the Captain) noticed anything at all.

What Billy did notice, however, was that Miss Cheesewinder had brought along thirty-three pairs of shoes; that the Maharajah was the only one with a fire lit in his fireplace; that Gertrude Crunchie refused to open a locked case on the grounds it contained the manuscript for her latest as yet unfinished mystery novel; that Sir Mortimer kept a bag of solid gold golf clubs by his bed; and that Lady Margaret’s bedside clock had stopped at exactly 2:42pm…

Finally Captain Cat said he would be obliged if everyone would assemble in the downstairs’ library.

Mrs Crunchie was terribly excited. "This is just like the gathering of suspects in the garden shed in The Dagger Points to Death," she said breathlessly; where the detective reveals the murderer!

Jerry! Bring my jewellery box downstairs, Mrs Gottrox commanded. No one’s helping themselves to my lovely jewels again.

Right away, m’dear.

Miss Cheesewinder blinked. Are we going to play a game? she asked worriedly. I hope it’s not Scrabble. I’m not very good at spelling.

When everyone had made their pick from the library’s selection of comfortable chairs, Captain Cat, who remained standing beneath the crystal chandelier, had one further request: I wish to examine everyone’s left slipper.

Our zlipperz? gaped Mr Septembre.

Only Mrs Crunchie wasn’t puzzled. "The Captain’s spotted a tell-tale footprint somewhere, I bet. There were footprints on the ceiling in Ten Steps to Doom."

Giggling shyly, Tammi Cheesewinder presented Captain Cat with one of her dainty slippers.

Charmed, purred the Captain, as if he were Prince Charming and Miss Cheesewinder Cinderella. "And now if I may look at your left slipper…?"

Everyone began tugging off their left slippers: fluffy, carpet, heel-less and, in the case of the Maharajah, a curly-toed Turkish. As the latter was being removed, Captain Cat said, Allow me, and helpfully held the Maharajah’s stick. Then he handed it back and examined the proffered item of footwear. This proved to be the last slipper on the agenda.

Billy remained puzzled. What was the Captain up to? The only thing Billy noticed was that Sir Mortimer had a Band-Aid on his left heel. Significant? Or did it just prove that multiquadzillionaires suffered from blisters like everyone else?

Thank you, said Captain Cat. My case is now complete. All that remains is for me to tell you that the Phantom Jewel Thief is in this room - is one of us!

This statement resulted in numerous gasps, and suspicious eyes began darting left and right and, in the case of Mrs Crunchie, upwards at the ceiling.

Won’t you stand up and take a bow - the Captain asked, "- Maharajah of Instantee!"

More gasps ensued, and Billy thought, Rats! I was bettin’ on it being that Cheesewinder bird! - she was, after all, the Least Likeliest Suspect.

Up jumped the Maharajah - with a lot more speed than you would expect from someone with his portly girth. Ssstay back! he hissed, holding out his stick. The Captain promptly snatched it out of his grasp. The Maharajah’s lip curled. He responded by dramatically snatching off his bushy beard (which, it goes without saying, was false), then did the same with his immense turban. Revealed was a saturnine face with a neat, forked goatee. And curled up on another, smaller, green turban was a cobra!

A beard (false) being unexpectedly ripped off is an alarming sight, especially at gone three in the morning, but that was as naught compared to a snake ensconced upon someone’s noggin. Everyone shrank back in their chairs. The olive-grey cobra lazily lifted its head, and its hood flared as it bared its lethal fangs.

Allow me to introduce Sebastian Hess aka the Snakecharmer, Captain Cat said calmly. He is a notorious international jewel thief. As for his pet, I haven’t had the pleasure. Its name is probably Sammy Snake or something. It is also a Mozambique Spitting Cobra. See, there are small holes at the tip of each fang. Venom can be ejected up to l.8 metres. I advise everyone to stay still and at least 1.9 metres distant.

How did you guesss it wasss I? the Snakecharmer wanted to know, his thin tongue licking his dry lips.

Guess? Captain Cat frowned. I never guess. Well. Almost never. In this case, however, it was deduction, pure and simple. This cane of yours - its tip is the same size as the marks found in your victims’ fireplaces. And it extends - like so! And the Captain, not adverse to a show of dramatics himself, dramatically pulled the stick, lengthening it like a long, skinny telescope.

So that’s why the Cap’n wanted to look at everyone’s slippers, Billy thought. Just a ruse to get a closer peek at the fake Maharajah’s stick. Sneaky or what!

You’ve been climbing out of your room up onto the roof, the Captain continued. This extendable stick with its twisted grooves is lowered down a chimney. Makes a handy ladder for a snake.

"Do… do you mean a znake haz been zlithering about our roomz at night?" Mr Septembre gurgled, face ashen.

The Captain nodded. That mark in the face-powder - a snake trail. That ‘extra’ tie - a snake taking a breather while climbing up the chair to reach the cufflinks on the dressing-table. Yes, the Snakecharmer is aptly named. He specializes in charming snakes, wooing them, training them - training them to steal.

"My ruby brooch has been swallowed by a snake? Mrs Gottrox was horrified. I don’t think I want it back!" (Mr Gottrox looked relieved. For a moment he thought his wife would insist he stick his hand down the guilty snake’s gullet and frisk about inside for any loose jewels.)

Again Captain Cat nodded. The stolen gems are later regurgitated. During the day, the Snakecharmer’s snakes are kept hidden in his room. That’s why the fire is always lit in there. Snakes like the warmth. When it comes time for a room to be searched for stolen gems, the snakes are simply let out of the window to hide themselves and their ill-gotten gains in the garden. Afterwards, the jolly Maharajah departs, supposedly empty-handed. He simply collects his pets and their rich contents at the front gate, where they no doubt slither thither at his signal.

But how does he signal his snakes? Billy ventured to ask, not for a moment taking his eyes off the cobra wrapped around the Super Villain’s cranium. He couldn’t help thinking as headgear went, he much preferred his own bowler hat: bowler hats were not known to bite.

Like thisss! the Snakecharmer spat, sliding a strange flute-like object with a bulbous end from out of the sleeve of his richly embroidered dressing-gown.

A Snakecharmer’s flute, murmured the Captain. The Umbrella Kid and I heard you tootling it earlier on. Can’t say the tune got my foot tapping.

The Super Villain smirked and once more licked his lips. You think you’re ssso clever, he said. "But you’ve made one missstake. You dissscovered me before I could sssend my petsss away. They’re ssstill with me - and longing to sssay hello!"

What happened next was probably the most terrifying thing Billy had ever seen - much worse than that Bionic Banana Beast or those vampire penguins he’d met on earlier adventures.

The Snakecharmer tore open his dressing-gown, and his guts seemed to slop out onto the floor at his feet. Snakes! Dozens of squirming, slippery-scaled snakes. They had been entwined in the padding of their master’s fake tummy.

Shedding this padding, the Snakecharmer, now as lithe and as slender as his reptilian chums, and dressed in a dark green suit that seemed to be tailored out of shimmery, scaly snake skin, put the weird flute to his lips and blew.

The resultant tune wouldn’t make the Top Forty, Billy grimaced, but the snakes seemed to dig it. They began slithering towards the Captain and the Muchlettuce mansion’s other residents. The cobra, too, responded to the music, sliding down the Snakecharmer’s body to join his kin on the carpet.

The Captain, Billy, Sir Mortimer and all his white-faced, terrified guests, who had scrambled out of their chairs, began to back slowly away. They were all horribly aware that most of their ankles were bare and defenceless, and that the snakes seemed to be homing in on them…

The snakes slid on, herding everyone up against a high-tiered bookcase. Sir Mortimer kept a set of encyclopedia here, but no one needed to reach behind to look up ‘snake’ in the S volume to know that the Snakecharmer’s pets were all highly venomous and that bare ankles made ideal targets for striking fangs!

03.

One falssse move and my sssnakes ssstrike! the Snakecharmer warned, as he lowered his flute and began backing out of the library. I now bid you all a mossst insssincere farewell!

Billy! Captain Cat commanded. Follow my lead. Mr Gottrox? If I may? And he grabbed the jewellery box Mr Gottrox was still holding and upended the glittering necklaces and earrings onto the carpet. Instinctively the snakes lunged at the bouncing gems, and while they were so occupied, the Captain used the extended walking-stick like a high jumper’s vaulting-pole to spring high over them. Letting go of the stick, he reached for the chandelier and swung clear across the rest of the library. Letting go, his boots struck the Snakecharmer, sending him flying backwards out through the library doors, where he collided with a large Chinese gong usually used to summon the mansion’s residents to their chow.

Billy! The handcuffs! The Captain held out his hand. But no handcuffs were forthcoming. He looked round. In fact, no Billy was forthcoming either. There he was, still backed up against the bookshelves. He appeared to have been frozen solid with fear.

Never mind the ’cuffs, the Captain called out, reassuringly. The Snakecharmer’s out cold.

With the Snakecharmer’s musical spell broken, the snakes had chucked in the towel and were sliding underneath chairs and couches for a bit of peace and quiet. Sir Mortimer and the others took this opportunity to sidle quickly out of the library. Billy, however, remained petrified.

My assistant seems a little under the weather, the Captain said, collecting Billy and bearing him from the room.

As soon as they were out of the library, Sir Mortimer hastily slammed shut the doors, imprisoning the snakes inside.

Good idea, Captain Cat told him. You might also like to telephone the Maxburg Municipal Zoo to come and collect those snakes. Until they do, I wouldn’t venture into the library for a good book if I were you. Oh. And while you’re at it, give Hammerstein Prison a bell. I’m sure they’ll only be too glad to take the Snakecharmer off your hands.

Well done, Captain! Mr Gottrox boomed, slapping him on the back.

Zaved the day again! added Mr Septembre, beaming.

"That dramatic unmasking of the villain reminded me so much of a scene in my bestseller Vengeance at Midnight," Mrs Crunchie gushed.

Are we playing Scrabble? asked Tammi Cheesewinder.

If you’ll excuse me, Captain Cat murmured, interrupting the shower of congratulations. I really must get the Kid back home.

You’ve been working the poor lamb too hard, Captain, Mrs Gottrox scolded, shaking a motherly finger. He looks totally done in.

Lady Margaret agreed, squeaking sympathetically.

Billy had started to thaw, and the shakes set in. He found he couldn’t help it.

As the Captain escorted him outside, where the early dawn sun was unravelling long shadows across the snooker-table smooth, pale green lawn, Sir Mortimer Muchlettuce hurried down his mansion’s wide marbled front steps in pursuit. Captain! he called. One moment!

The Captain halted. Sir Mortimer? he enquired politely.

I’ll call around your place later today, the newspaper tycoon said. I may have another little mystery you can help me with.

I look forward to it!

Bundling Billy into the Catillac 9000, which was parked under an elm tree and disguised as one of an assortment of jags and Rolls-Royces, the Captain drove back to his penthouse HQ in the heart of Maxburg City. Billy didn’t say a word during the whole trip.