‘Well,’ replied the cat, stretching himself out full-length on the floor. ‘I didn’t exactly say that I was really good at them. I mean, I’m not bad, and now that you mention it, I’m pretty good, but not the best… No, probably not the best.’

‘Soooo?’

‘So, hold your horses. These things take time. I need to think about it.’

‘Oh, Cat!’

‘Arthur? Who are you talking to?’

His mother’s head had just appeared at the top of the stairs. She was still looking angry, her long dark hair tied back, only serving to emphasise her stern look even more.

‘Hmm?’ he asked, not having a clue how he was supposed to answer that.

‘I asked who you were talking to? The cat again, I suppose?’

‘I guess.’

‘Right, well, that settles it then. I’m going to call your friend Lizzy’s mother and invite them over at last. You’ve really been spending too much time running wild by yourself this summer. I always thought she was very sensible for her age.

‘Wild?’ he mumbled after she’d gone. All he ever did was go fishing at the lake. There was nothing wild about that. As for Lizzy though, well, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. She was smart. She might even be able to help them figure out this box thing.

‘So, what about Lizzy, then?’ he whispered.

‘I know what you’re thinking, but we don’t need any help.’

‘But I thought you liked her? You always sit with her when she comes.’

‘That’s because she’s warm and scratches my ears very nicely. Which, incidentally, is something you could learn to do better. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and see a cat about a riddle.’

And getting up, Cat sauntered off in the direction of the stairs.

When Arthur awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that the cat wasn’t anywhere to be found. Guessing it probably meant that he was still ‘riddling’ with the big ginger next door, and having caught wind that Aunty M was readying a long list of things for him to do, he’d fled upstairs to the attic to try and delay the inevitable.

Hiding in a part of the room that couldn’t be seen from the stairs, he placed the box on the floor in front of him and sat staring at it.

‘You know, I bet you turn out to be a whole lot of nothing,’ he said, finally picking it up. The longer he gazed at it, the more foolish he started to feel for wantingto believe that it could be anything more than just some ordinary little box. Feeling annoyed with himself, he was about to throw it in a drawer but stopped.

No, wait! What about everything that has already happened?… It can’t all be coincidental, can it? That weird white light; my hands; suddenly being able to talk to the cat; the hole in the tracks; the fish; the box; the reports of the men looking for it.

‘They’ve all got to be connected somehow. But how?’ he asked out loud.

‘You do know, right, that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness?’ meowed the cat, strolling into the room at that moment.

‘Ha ha, where’ve you been?’

‘Busy solving the greatest riddle that never actually was.’

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’ll see when I tell you the answer. Fluffy and I have solved it. Well, it was more me than Fluffy. I’m sure even he would agree.’

‘So?’

‘Well, it was really just staring us right in the whiskers the whole time.’

‘Great, but I’ve been staring at it all morning, and I didn’t feel it staring at my whiskers.’

‘That’s because you’ve been looking without really looking.’

Arthur rolled his eyes. ‘Brilliant! OK, and…?’

‘Hmm?’ asked the cat, distracted by a small beetle scurrying across the floor.

‘C’mon, what’s the answer?’