In the forest was a small police station. Any animal with a problem could go there for help. It was painted red with white windowsills and had smoke coiling up from the chimney to the sky. There was a garden too, and a lawn and currant bushes.
The police station was busy on this chilly autumn morning. From inside you could hear kla-dunk, kla-dunk. It was peaceful work, though.
Outside, small figures were creeping around. They ran towards the currant bush at the corner of the house and hid themselves.
Inside the police station were two police officers: Detective Gordon and Detective Buffy. Buffy was a young mouse. At that moment she was sitting at the big desk wearing her fine police hat. She was leafing through important police papers and reading aloud from Gordon’s notes (Detective Gordon, the famous criminal detective, the terror of all villains): “Hmm, Mister Badger has found a blue scarf…”
Buffy scratched behind one large ear, thinking. Then she brightened, and began to leaf through other important papers. Yes, there it was.
“Lost!” she read. “Granny Squirrel has lost her scarf and would like it back immediately (because it is getting colder). If someone finds it…”
Buffy whistled to herself. Soon she would ask the squirrel to describe the scarf. If she answered “it’s blue” then the case was solved.
Buffy wrote Crime probably solved on the paper and took out the lovely stamp. She placed it on the paper, moved it a little to the right, a little to the left, and then she stamped so hard that the desktop sang. This was how you did police work! She stamped one more time, kla-dunk, so it could be heard even if you were standing outside—or if you were hidden in the police station’s currant bushes…
“Crime and crime,” she muttered to herself. She rubbed out the words and wrote The problem is probably solved instead. Then she stamped a third time.
Next came the case of an angry grandfather badger who had said “Snot child!” to a little mouse. That meant the police had to go in and do some educating. All the animals in the forest should be kind to one another.
If they were angry because they had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, they should avoid other animals or at least stay quiet. The badger needed to be told (as did the little mouse, who in fact was always snotty). Kla-dunk.
The last thing Buffy had to do that day was to order new cakes for the three cake tins. A very important job. There were new kinds available: coconut tops, banana cakes with crispy sugar topping, and nougat rolls with mint chips. Buffy thought she should probably wait till Gordon was awake. It was important that everyone was kept happy. Although the banana cakes sounded very good…
How happy and pleased Buffy was! Inside she felt absolutely pink and pale blue. She took off her cap and polished it. She loved being a police officer and doing important things. She loved the police station. A sweet little police station, as she said to Gordon. She loved the writing desk and the spinning chair and the stamp and the sweet little prison. Yes, because the prison was no longer a prison. It had two beds in it and the detectives slept in them.
Suddenly she heard snoring, a really powerful detective snore that shook the prison bars.
Two figures hidden in the currant bush now crept up to the window and looked in. They could see a big, puffed-up toad under the covers: Detective Gordon lying in bed.
Gordon was dozing, as he called it. He could hear everything that was happening in the police station, every paper that rustled, every small hum or giggle, and every stamp that was stamped. He enjoyed listening to this encouraging work. But then he dozed off and dreamed a little, waking at the smallest squeak from Buffy’s spinning chair. When he woke, he lay and thought. About himself, for example.
And how he, for example, was quite old. Nineteen years old. He was more tired than before and he enjoyed his bed very much. A nice pair of flannel pajamas, lovely cold sheets, a warm bedcover and a really soft pillow. Could anything be better? Gordon gave a small sigh.
He usually got up in the evening to drink tea with Buffy. And have an evening cake, of course. Then he’d sit at the desk during the night, maybe dozing off now and then, but if anyone came in wanting help he would wake up immediately.
He looked after the police station all night. Now and again he would nibble on a secret night cake. And in the morning he served morning cakes to Buffy and himself before creeping back to bed.
If something terrible happened then of course both detectives put on their police hats and went out into the forest to solve the case. But that wasn’t often. Mostly police work involved a naughty child throwing litter on the meadow or a lost mole or hedgehog happening to fall asleep in the middle of the path. Nice small crimes, or at least not-nasty, as Gordon would say.
Nothing ever happened that was really bad. And the detectives were very pleased about that. Kind animals in the police district, good cakes, cold sheets. Things could hardly be better.
Gordon dozed off. He had a little mini-dream about when he was a young toad. There he was in his shorts, with a big sun hat, building a tall sandcastle. His mother stood beside him clapping her hands.
“How clever, little Gordon. I’m so proud of you!”
What a wonderful dream. Gordon woke to the sound of Buffy’s cheerful whistling. And the sound of some creature walking outside the station, rustling leaves.
“Buffy,” Gordon called. “You can’t imagine the dream I just had about my mother. She was so kind and happy…”
Buffy’s whistling stopped. She rustled a piece of paper.
“Buffy,” called Gordon. “Where does your mother live, exactly? Where is she?”
Now the paper rustling stopped too. It became absolutely quiet.
“You understand, Buffy, that mothers are very important. When you think about your mother you get all warm inside, even when you’re very old…”
“Squeak,” said Buffy.
And was that the small sound of sniffing?
Gordon didn’t have time to think more about it, because suddenly the door burst open and two figures rushed into the police station.
