Then I went into action. I left the three huge thugs strewn about the street like so many rag dolls and the intelligent-looking man looking scared.
"I..."
"Sorry, you had a duff bunch of thugs. So, you think Wendy Sanders is the Black Kitten? There are better ways of finding out than going in there mob-handed."
With that I pulled my whip from my belt and began to ascend the building.
It was one of those nice places you can climb quite easily with the help of a study bullwhip, and soon I was outside Wendy's apartement. That high up the windows aren't usually very secure, and I got in easily.
Wendy Sanders was in bed and asleep, but I move quietly. I was looking for clues to establish whether or not she was the Black Kitten. Wendy was the only one of our suspects who lived alone, and that made me feel she was a very likely candidate. Until I saw her face, that is. She'd been at the party all right, but I'd seen her, and her costume would hardly have covered a postage stamp, let along the Black Kitten's costume! No, it wasn't her. That left Pat Malone and Belle Olivers. Both of those girls lived with their parents, and that would make things more difficult for me.
I left the way I came and I landed lightly on top of one of the fallen gangsters.
"I'm back," I greeted the remaining gangster. "It's not her, she was the girl in about two square inches of fabric. You know, the blonde?"
"Her!" the man laughed. "Well..."
Then I kicked him in the jaw and laid him out. I'm allowed to be catty (it goes with the outfit), but I wasn't going to let him make a coarse remark. And anyhow, I don't like having gangsters running around the place. After that I scrammed in the car, since Ken Livingstone isn't too keen on people who leave litter either. If he found out it was me, I'd be in serious trouble.
"Result?" Emily asked me in the car. I shook my head.
"Negative one. She was at the party, but I saw her when the Black Kitten was in the room."
"Pat Malone's next," Scruff's voice said over the secure radio. "She's the daughter of 'Muggins' Malone of Poplar..."
I groaned. I'd been afraid of that.
"Grey?" Emily asked.
"'Muggins' Malone's a vicious sort of man. He lives in a house that's almost a fortress."
"Then leave it to me," Emily suggested. "I can get in through the keyhole or something. Come on, you've got me on the team!"
Like I was going to forget that in a hurry. Emily's wonderful, but she one managed to empty a cinema by making herself visible during the film. It didn't help that the movie was scary anyhow, but think the appearance of The Outsider during a film showing would have scared them even if it had been a rom-com.
"Okay, Outsider, you can see about Pat Malone."
I hoped she would be all right. After all, she is just about twelve.
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