Satire – Tomcat Tompkins 97

“There are two policemen behind you, Esther,” said Tompkins.

        As Mrs. Stark turned her head slightly, Tompkins threw the limp body, knocking them all down like ninepins. Mrs. Stark let go of the gun as the thrown man’s knee knocked the wind out of her.

        “Get in the Jag, Alex,” said Tompkins. He strode to the gun and kicked it furiously towards Ingram.

        “There you are, Constable Ingram,” said Tompkins pointing at the gun and the groaning group of bodies on the floor, “an easy arrest for you and Inspector Evans, courtesy of the old Tomcat. Be seeing you.”

        With that he hightailed it back to his car, threw it into reverse, and sped on to the road just in time to catch a gap in the traffic. He waved at Ingram who was gingerly picking up the gun whilst Evans was heading back to his car, presumably to ask for back-up and to find more handcuffs.

        “I believe you scored a strike there, Tomcat,” said Filly looking at the scene in her side-mirror, “I don’t think Esther Stark is well judging by the way she’s rolling around clutching her stomach. The three men are all holding their anatomies in various places especially the one you thumped who can’t breathe much.”

        “Thank you for the assistance back there,” said Alex, “I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t arrived in the nick of time.”

        “Not to worry,” replied Tompkins, “just helping a pal in trouble.”

        “Where are we going now, Tomcat?” asked Filly sitting back in her seat at last.

        “We are going to the coast,” replied Tompkins, “for some time to think. That minibus is a goner, so we’ll curtail our deportations. Besides, there’s things you should know about who opponents are are. You will have guessed some of them by now, but the scope of the problem is bigger than just those four.”

        “What’s the lovely smell?” asked Alex.

        “It was a tasty Kielbasa sausage I purchased from a lovely Polish man, Jan, who’d recently lost his wife to a drunk driver. He held no grudges though and gave me pause for thought. Without him we wouldn’t be here now as he gave me, gave me not sold me, gave me this outfit, his spare outfit, so I could blend in more and get closer to you, so I could deliver the hoots I knew you’d recognise.”

        “I say Tomcat, that’s a coincidence, I’ve been thinking about what we’re doing too and wondering whether we’re helping anyone,” said Filly.

        “Yes, and another thing to say, I’m afraid, is that our pack of pals has some rather nasty members, who are causing friction between us and the East Europeans for their own ends. Spinky Mills and Dapper Dam have both been muffled by I believe Esther Stark, who also muffled her husband Stalky. Miss Scarlet, or Ethel Warburton as I should now call her, had nothing to do with it.”

        “What?” shrieked Filly, “Spinky and Dapper Dan are both dead?” She looked horrified before bursting into tears. Tompkins handed her a tissue and she dried her tears, before continuing “but they were on our side, Tomcat, we aren’t killing anyone, just repatriating them.”

        They drove in silence for three minutes until Tompkins broke the silence.

        “Filly, it’s Esther Stark and her coterie of hard-liners who killed Spinky and Dapper Dan, not the Russians or Poles or any East Europeans – it was our own people.”

        “So, who can we trust?” asked Alex leaning forward from the backseat.

        “That my friend,” replied Tompkins, “is the big question, the big Wahooni as they might say in Hawaii.”

Published by Julian Worker

Julian was born in Leicester, attended school in Yorkshire, and university in Liverpool. He has been to 94 countries and territories and intends to make the 100 when travel is easier. He writes travel books, murder / mysteries and absurd fiction. His sense of humour is distilled from The Marx Brothers, Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, and Midsomer Murders. His latest book is about a Buddhist cat who tries to help his squirrel friend fly further from a children's slide.

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