The Grey Tabby: Ten

At the top of a mighty tower block, greedy eyes surveyed the city, seeing each pin-point of light and coveting it. A buzzer sounded on a broad oak desk, and the occupant of the chair swung round to face the door.

"Enter!" he commanded imperiously.

The door opened cautiously to admit a rather nervous-looking man in a sharp suit. The man in the chair, a cloaked figure wearing a tabby-striped mask, glared at the newcomer.

" You were supposed to rob every guest at the Savoy Hotel tonight," the Grey Tabby scowled. "Instead, you come back here decimated by three girls."

"The Outsider..." the man began, trembling, "they were trained and ...."

"I will not tolerate bungling!" the Grey Tabby's fist slammed down on his desk, voice rising to a shout. "And I will not tolerate excuses for bungling! Bring me those girls - dead or alive! I want them!"

"How do we do that?" the sharp-suited man replied, voice hardening. "With the...."

"No excuses!" the Grey Tabby pounded the desk again.

"Then find someone else!" the man scowled.

"I already have," the Grey Tabby smiled. "they arrive tomorrow at Tibury docks. Goodbye."

The man looked shocked, as the floor gave way beneath him. He fell into a pit full of wildcats, who immediately tore him to pieces.

"Miss Jones," the Grey Tabby pressed his desk intercom again. "Tell Dudley that he's promoted. Tomorrow's targets are the Natuaral History Museum and Victoria Station. And no bungling."

"And Rob?" the girl on the line asked.

"The cats won't need feeding tonight," the Grey Tabby replied, calm again. "And tell that to Dudley as well."