Ned and the Spicy Sausage

By Mark Jarvis

In a world where animals can talk, Ned an exuberant Jack Russell and Jeff his person, are called upon once more, to defend the world against an evil mastermind.

Joining the continuing battle against organised crime, the reluctant heroes team up again with next door’s ‘tech-whizz’ cat, Gizzmo. This time though, Gizzmo has been recruited by MI5 and she brings the friends together to solve an international spy mystery - all started by the discovery of a spicy sausage.

The adventure might begin in the Sticky Bun Café in Plymouth, but the crime fighters are called upon to travel and explore the wonders of Europe in their quest for unusually behaving pencil sharpeners and the smugglers of spicy sausages.

The Prime Minister of Britain, Larry the Downing Street cat, the Royal Corgis ( the real power behind the thrown, helping the Queen of course) and the man behind the newspaper from MI5, all work to help our friends battle the Russian foe.

Will Ned have the stomach to solve a scandalous, spicy sausage secret?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Release date: Dec 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781803134178

Mark Jarvis

Mark Jarvis has been a primary school teacher in Plymouth, Devon for the last 26 years. He has taught the skills of writing stories, enabled children to express their ideas through greater understanding of language, and promoted the appreciation and enjoyment that comes from a story shared.

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Ned and the Spicy Sausage

By Mark Jarvis

Copyright © 2022 Mark Jarvis

Cover art by Dave Hill

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 978 1803134 178

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A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

To my wife, Stevie. X

Contents

Prologue

The silvery moonlight gave everything the quality of a black and white photograph.

Not a word was said as the exchange was made.

The four thick sausages, one from each sock, one from each sleeve, were passed from man to dog and slid into tubes on the dog’s special harness.

Udachi, whispered the man.

Spasibo, and good luck to you too, replied the hound quietly.

Both paused, fixing each other in the eye before turning into the silent shadows.

Bang!

Silence and darkness were split apart by a sharp crack and a flash. Sprinting guards crashed through the scrubby bushes towards the spot where the strangers had met. Their pistols were raised, ready for a second shot.

They had arrived too late − the contraband was already on its way.

Chapter 1

Your Mission

The man, his identity hidden behind a large newspaper, stood beside our table in the Sticky Bun café.

Well, what do you chaps think of that, eh? he asked, as his black-gloved hand shot out to slap something metal onto the table in front of us.

All three of us were sitting around the new exhibit, with our Flat Bright animal coffees (Jeff, my person, with his mug of tea). We all craned our necks forward to get a closer look.

Tell me what you see, the man behind the newspaper continued. Perhaps we’ve missed something.

"What I see, I said, unable to keep a hint of amusement out of my voice, is a small, shiny, metal pencil sharpener. Am I missing something?" I took a quick sniff of the metal object. Jack Russell terriers like me have to check out the smell of every new thing.

Hmm, Ned, this is no laughing matter, said the man behind the newspaper, showing his displeasure at me not taking this seriously by noisily snapping his newspaper straight. "We know it looks like a pencil sharpener, but we believe it hides something of national importance. Larry the Number 10 Downing Street cat, feels there is more to it."

But, dude! exclaimed Gizzmo, the cat who was our laid back, next door neighbour, if it looks like a pencil sharpener and it sharpens pencils, then maybe that’s what it is!

However, said Jeff, raising a finger to emphasise his point, why would Mr Yan, a dangerous criminal remember, carry around a briefcase full of them? He then turned his raised finger and pushed his round glasses back onto his nose.

That’s what concerns Larry, and we at MI5 agree with him. This is where you chaps come in. We need to use your expertise to get to the bottom of this mystery.

With that, he snapped his newspaper straight once more and left the café. The automatic entrance door opened straight onto the street, and a black taxi-cab pulled up outside. The man behind the newspaper stepped into the cab, and they drove off.

Wow, I said, still looking at the shiny little pencil sharpener on the table in front of us. That was what Mr Yan had in his briefcase. Remember he put the case into the boot of our fake taxi, when we were on the island of Bohol.

Hey, dudes, purred Gizzmo, quickly tapping the keys of her laptop. There is more to our last mission than we thought. It’s not over yet. Our team is back in action. And now I’m officially an MI5, spy-type dude, I’ll have access to even more info for you guys to use.

The Weimaraner dog waitress stood beside us, with a tray harness on her back. Jeff cleared our empty cups from our table and put them on her waiting tray.

Thanks guys, she said. Have a great day!

Jeff stood up to go, and I jumped down onto the floor.

Well, Gizmo, I announced, turning to our friend, send us a text if you find anything; Jeff and I need to go and sort out all of our kit, in case we are called into action quickly.

Sure thing, doggy dude, called Gizzmo, as Jeff clipped my lead onto my harness. We left the Sticky Bun café, crossing the road to our house.

I looked back at the café window to see that Gizzmo was looking up from her laptop, distracted by something on the table in front of her. She could see nothing but the pencil sharpener that was left for her to examine. She turned back to her laptop, and unseen by anyone but me, the pencil sharpener turned around too.

Jeff, Jeff! I shouted. It moved, all by itself, the pencil sharpener moved!

What are you talking about? grumbled Jeff, my person. He was eager to return to our little terraced house, and I could feel him pulling me forward on my lead. I know you are excited about nearly everything Ned, but we need to get home. Pencil sharpeners don’t move on their own. It must have been something reflecting on the window.

Yes, of course, I said, unconvinced. But it really looked like it had moved.

Jeff swung open the gate and unclipped me, now that we were safely away from the road. I probably would have run out on the road to investigate the sharpener if I had not been clipped onto my lead.

Dogs, cats and people have lived together for hundreds of years, and so animals picking up language skills and learning to talk was bound to happen. Most animals have learned to talk, although many still prefer to lead their own lifestyles, and not live together with humans.

Once inside our house, I jumped up onto the brown leather sofa and had a good shake before lying down. Jeff sat down beside me and brushed the little white hairs that I had shaken out, onto the floor. He picked up his tablet, and I heard the sound that meant he was making a video call.

I’m just calling Noola, he said. I want to see how it’s all going with Lavender.

Noola is really called Finulla Jeffries, Jeff’s sister. Jeff’s real name is Cornelius Jeffries, but neither of them has been called by their proper names since they were little.

Hi, Noola, said Jeff, when his sister’s face appeared on the screen. How’s it all going, now that you’re living with Lavender?

Oh, Jeff, it’s soo good! replied Noola with a big smile. Lavender is right here beside me. Why don’t you let her tell you all about it?

The screen moved over to show a delicate, grey and white cat, sitting up smartly beside Noola.

Hi guys, Lavender greeted us, raising her paw with a little wave. I just moved in yesterday and I really love my new home. Larry is really pleased too. He didn’t really get on well with the last person I lived with, but he and Noola are already great friends.

What’s it like having your brother, Larry the cat, helping to run the country, Lavender? I asked, intrigued by the idea of knowing someone who lived at Number 10 Downing Street.

The little cat laughed. I know that Larry does an important job and has to meet with MI5 and people like that, but I just think of him as my brother. Anyway, it was the man behind the newspaper that found me this new place to live, remember?

Yes, of course, said Jeff. Well, I’m sure that we will be able to come and see you sometime soon. I just wanted to find out if you were all settled in. We need to go and pack now, as we have just been visited by the man behind the newspaper. We’ve been given another assignment.

How exciting, said Noola, swinging the picture back to herself. Promise me that you two will be careful please. You were both nearly killed twice on your last mission!

Yes, we’ll be fine, I said, trying to sound very casual about the whole thing. I’m sure that we’ll have this cleared up in no time. Bye now you two, bye.

Jeff put down his tablet and jumped to his feet. Right, he said, I’ll go and make sure that we have the disguises and the fake passports packed. You never know where this adventure might take us.

Make sure you don’t forget all the money that we have from different countries, and pack the MI5 credit card. We may have to ask Gizzmo to book flights and accommodation for us again. Right now though, I need to wee.

Jeff went upstairs, and I made my way towards our back garden. When we were away on our last adventure, Gizzmo had used the MI5 credit card to pay for a dog flap to be fitted to our back door. Well, the man behind the newspaper said that we should use the card for whatever we might need! And I do need to wee in the garden, quite often.

While I was weeing on the washing line post, Gizzmo jumped up onto the wall and walked around it, until she was above me.

Yo, dude, she said, sitting down in her usual spot. Last time, you found out some really useful info from some doggy dudes in the park. It wasn’t a whole lot, but it gave us a place to start. Why don’t ya groove on down and check it out."

Gizzmo spoke in the way most cats do (unlike lavender I noticed), in a cool, surfer-dude kind of way. They always seem so laid-back about things.

I finished weeing and started scratching instead.

And dude, Gizzmo continued, don’t go thinking that I’ve left the laptop and the pencil sharpener over in the Sticky Bun − my person came over and she is going to take them back for me. She’s a dude.

I don’t know if asking in Radford Park will help this time Gizzmo, I said. No one else knows about these pencil sharpeners.

Maybe not dude, agreed Gizzmo. But why don’t you find out what everyone knows about stationery generally? I must admit that I am kinda stumped on this one, but anyway, it’s a great excuse to get Jeff to take you for a walk.

Hee! That’s why MI5 hired you Gizzmo, I said, already scampering off towards the back door again. You are just full of great ideas!

Chapter 2

You Never Know

I pulled Jeff along on my lead, eager to get out on my walk.

Stop pulling, grumbled Jeff. Why we need to suddenly go on mission now, I’ll never know. I was just settling down for a little power nap, after all the packing I’ve done.

We reached the place where it was safe to unclip me, and I turned to face my person.

You can have a little kip on the bench Jeff, while I go and see what I can find out. Wow, you can really smell the sea strongly today, I added, taking a good sniff of the air. That was one of the good things about living in Plymouth: you were never far from the sea.

When we reached the open space of the park, I felt the strong urge to just run around really quickly. Jeff sat back on a bench nearby, and closed his eyes.

See you in a minute! I shouted.

The first dog I came across was Lucca. He was a small, dark haired Lhasa Apso, and was a friend of mine that I chased and ran with whenever we met.

Hey, Neddy! Lucca called, as we ran around in circles together. It’s a long time since I saw you here, where have you been?

Oh, here and there, I replied, not wanting to tell him about my secret work for MI5, the security service. Lucca, what do you know about pencil sharpeners? I asked, trying out Gizzmo’s idea of asking everyone and gathering information, whatever it may be.

Lucca stopped running around and sat still. Um, they sharpen pencils? he suggested, wanting to be helpful, but not being able to think of anything else. Oh, and they smell of spice and garlic.

Now it was my turn to sit down. "What did you say?