Lulu climbed out of the back of the police car. She gathered Conrad up in her arms and then lifted him onto her shoulders. ‘Thank you so much for the lift,’ she said. The driver was a sergeant in her forties, the front passenger a constable who looked to be only just out of his teens.
‘Stay safe!’ said the sergeant.
Lulu closed the door and the car drove off. They were standing outside a pretty cafe. Two ladies were sharing an ice cream sundae, four large orbs of chocolate ice cream topped with cream, chocolate shavings and a chocolate-dipped cherry. ‘Oh, that looks good,’ said Lulu. ‘I know I’ve only just had lunch, but I haven’t had ice cream for ages. I recall cats don’t react well to dairy, but would you mind?’
‘Go ahead,’ said Conrad.
Lulu sat down at an empty table. Conrad jumped down and sat on the chair. The man at the table next to them looked over the top of his copy of the Manchester Evening News. He didn’t appear to be happy at having a cat in the vicinity, but Lulu smiled brightly at him. ‘Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?’ she said.
He raised his newspaper without replying and Lulu shrugged at Conrad. ‘I guess not everyone is a cat lover,’ whispered Lulu.
‘Their loss,’ he whispered back.
A young waiter with shoulder-length curly blond hair came over and Lulu ordered a latte. ‘And one of those,’ she said, pointing at the chocolate sundae.
‘The A-Lotta-Chocca,’ he said. ‘Good choice.’
‘Do you by any chance have a bowl that my plus one could drink from?’ Lulu asked. ‘He’d love some Evian water.’
‘Of course we do,’ said the waiter. ‘Would he like ice with it?’
‘Meow!’ said Conrad.
‘No ice,’ said Lulu.
‘He talks!’ said the waiter. ‘How cool is that?’
‘Very cool,’ said Lulu. The man with the newspaper lowered it, glared at them, and raised it again.
‘I love cats,’ said the waiter.
‘Who doesn’t?’
‘My mum,’ said the waiter. ‘But she’s allergic, so I guess she has an excuse. I’ll be right back.’
Lulu sat back in her chair. ‘Well, this is lovely,’ she said.
‘Meow,’ said Conrad, looking pointedly at the man with the newspaper. ‘Quite right,’ she said. Lulu was the only person who knew that Conrad could talk, and it was best to keep it that way. There was a diagram on the front page of the paper. She squinted at it. She frowned as for the first time she read the headline of the main story. SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN. ‘Oh, my goodness me,’ she said. She leaned forwards to try to read the story.
The man lowered the paper. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked.
‘No,’ she said, her cheeks flushing. ‘Sorry.’ She smiled sheepishly. ‘I was just interested in the front-page story, that’s all.’
He turned the paper around to see what she was talking about. ‘Sensationalist claptrap,’ he said. He put the paper down on the table and picked up a brown leather briefcase. As he stood up, Lulu leaned towards him. ‘Are you going? Can I be a real nuisance and ask if I can have your newspaper?’
The man smiled coldly. ‘You’re welcome to it,’ he said. ‘I’ve read it.’
‘Thank you so much,’ said Lulu. She practically snatched it from the table and began to devour the front page.
The man frowned and walked away. ‘Some people,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘That was a bit rude,’ whispered Conrad.
‘Shhhh!’
‘As was that,’ said Conrad huffily.
Lulu’s eyes widened as she read the front-page article. Eventually she put down the newspaper. ‘We have to go back to the police station.’