Every evening at Purrcolator Cafe, the staff count the pastries in the cabinet. Every morning, there is one fewer than expected. After three years, we have decided to investigate. The case file is presented below, in the style of a detective story, with the voice of our inspector, a tabby named Constable Crumb.
The scene
The pastry cabinet stands near the till. It is made of glass and steel, with a small door at the back for staff. The door is kept closed with a catch that has never worked. The cabinet is filled each morning with fourteen items: four croissants, four slices, three muffins and three biscuits.
The suspects
There are three main suspects.
- Espresso Paws, who sits next to the cabinet for six hours a day with an expression of calm.
- Madame Whiskerton, who lives in the window and walks the length of the room each evening.
- A trainee, who once admitted to eating an almond biscuit and has not been trusted since.
The evidence
Our inspector found crumbs on the floor. Crumbs of almond. Crumbs of butter. A faint smear of jam on the door of the cabinet, at a height of about eight inches. He also found a paw print in the icing of a lemon slice, which is not evidence, but is certainly a clue.
The interviews
Espresso Paws was interviewed first. He stared at the inspector for two minutes, then licked his paw and left. Madame Whiskerton declined to attend. The trainee gave a full confession and was told to go away because the case was more interesting without it.
The breakthrough
On the third night, Constable Crumb set up a watch from the top of the fridge. At 11:58 PM, he saw movement. A small shape slid from behind the till, crossed the floor, and nudged the cabinet door. The door swung open. The shape reached in, took a single croissant, and returned to the shadows.
It was Ledger, the accountant.
The verdict
Ledger admitted nothing, but his whiskers were flaky. He was fined one fish and sent to a different shelf. The case was closed, the cabinet was fitted with a new catch, and the following morning there was one fewer croissant than expected.
Moral
There is always a second thief. And in a cafe run by cats, the first thief is the staff.