The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents

bundled up her hair under a black scarf. She also had a big bag slung from her shoulder.
    'Gosh, you've got that right,' said Maurice.
    'I mean, you don't wear boots and a sword and have a big hat with a feather in it,' said the girl, pulling herself into the loft.
    Maurice gave her a long stare. 'Boots?' he said at last. 'On these paws?'
    'Oh, it was in a picture in a book I read,' said Malicia, calmly. 'A silly one for children. Full of animals that dressed up as humans.'
    It crossed Maurice's cat mind, and not for the first time, that if he moved fast he could be out of the city in five minutes and on to a barge or something.
    Once, when he was no more than a kitten, he'd been taken home by a small girl who'd dressed him up in doll's clothes and sat him at a small table with a couple of dolls and three-quarters of a teddy bear. He'd managed to escape through an open window, but it had taken him all day to get out of the dress. That girl could have been Malicia. She thought animals were just people who hadn't been paying enough attention.
    'I don't do clothes,' he said. It wasn't much of a line, but it was probably better than saying 'I think you are a loony'.
    'Could be an improvement,' said Malicia. 'It's nearly dark. Let's go! We shall move like cats!'
    'Oh, right,' said Maurice. 'I expect I can do that .'
    Although, he thought a few minutes later, no cats ever moved like Malicia. She obviously thought that it was no good looking inconspicuous unless people could see that you were being inconspicuous. People in the street actually stopped to watch her as she sidled along walls and scuttled from one doorway to another. Maurice and Keith strolled along after her. No-one paid them any attention.
    Eventually, in a narrow street, she stopped at a black building with a big wooden sign hanging over the door. The sign showed a lot of rats, a sort of star made of rats, with all their tails tied together in a big knot.
    'Sign of the ancient Guild of Rat-catchers,' whispered Malicia, swinging her bag off her shoulder.
    'I know,' said Keith. 'It looks horrible.'
    'Makes an interesting design, though,' said Malicia.
    One of the most significant things about the door below the sign was the big padlock holding it shut. Odd, Maurice thought. If rats make your legs explode, why do rat-catchers have to have a big lock on their shed?
    'Luckily, I'm prepared for every eventuality,' said Malicia, and reached into her bag. There was a sound as of lumps of metal and bottles being moved around.
    'What have you got in there?' asked Maurice. 'Everything?'
    'The grapnel and rope ladder take up a lot of the room,' said Malicia, still feeling around. 'And then there's the big medicine kit, and the small medicine kit, and the knife, and the other knife, and the sewing kit, and the mirror for sending signals and… these…'
    She pulled out a small bundle of black cloth. When she unrolled it, Maurice saw the gleam of metal.
    'Ah,' he said. 'Lock picks, right? I've seen burglars at work-'
    'Hair pins,' said Malicia, selecting one. 'Hair pins always work in the books I've read. You just push it into the keyhole and twiddle. I have a selection of pre-bent ones.'
    Once again, Maurice felt a little chill at the back of his head. They work in stories, he thought. Oh dear me. 'And how come you know so much about picking locks?' he said.
    'I told you, they lock me out of my room to punish me,' said Malicia, twiddling.
    Maurice had seen thieves at work. Men breaking into buildings at night hated to see dogs, but they didn't mind cats. Cats never attempted to tear their throats out. And what thieves tended to have, he knew, were complicated little tools which were used with great care and precision. They didn't use stupi-
    Click!
    'Good,' said Malicia, in a satisfied voice.
    'That was just luck,' said Maurice, as the padlock swung free. He looked up at Keith. 'You think it's just luck too, eh, kid?'
    'How would I know?' said Keith. 'I've never seen it done before.'
    'I knew it would work,' said Malicia. 'It worked in the fairy-story The Seventh Wife of Greenbeard, where she broke out of his Room of Terror and stabbed him in the eye with a frozen herring.'
    'That was a,'airy-story?' said Keith.
    'Yes,' said Malicia, proudly. 'Right out of Grim Fairy-Tales .'
    'You've got some bad fairies in these parts,' said Maurice, shaking his head.
    Malicia pushed the door open. 'Oh, no ,' she moaned. 'I didn't expect this …'
    Somewhere below Maurice's paws, and