Basil’s American Tail ~ Chapters 11-19 (end)

 11

The day wore on painfully slow. Basil swore he was getting carpal tunnel by the time the ever-so-brief lunch break rolled around, where they were given cheese soup with bread crumbs and water, a meager meal probably more well suited for a Siberian prison. The break was twenty minutes before McNibble forced everyone back to work. It was no wonder this place had broken most everyone’s spirits, no one seemed to hold any hope of ever getting out of here. Obviously, the news of the other sweatshop breakout at Moe’s had never reached them, for if it had they might have banded together and tried to hatch up a similar scheme.

The rest of the day went on in much the same way, most of it a complete blur to Basil. Maybe he should have paid attention to Nellie’s warnings; working in a sweatshop was harder than he thought it would be. But the more he endured it, the stronger his resolve became to help everyone escape, and bring down Warren’s crooked empire of crime. It would all be good practice for when he finally defeated Ratigan.

When dinner rolled around, it was much the same meal as lunch. Basil was dying for a cheese crumpet. When he got back to the apartment he decided he’d eat enough crumpets to make up for the ones he missed today. Work didn’t end until ten at night, when McNibble and his security goons, no doubt hired as an investment to keep anyone from escaping or organizing a rebellion, called everyone to the front of the room and took roll call to make sure no one was missing. And then they were sent to bed, a large room filled with bunk beds. Not everyone got one though; there were blankets on the floor for those who weren’t quick enough to grab the limited supply of beds. Some mice shared a mattress so there’d be room but that still didn’t leave enough beds available. In this case, however, Basil preferred to lay on the ground. He didn’t plan on sleeping. It would be easier to move about when Nellie made her scheduled arrival, which, as Basil spent the next few hours fighting fatigue and gazing at his pocket watch, happened right on time. At 3:30am, there was a tap on the window.

Basil’s ears perked up. Everyone else was asleep. He sat up and looked to the window. Nellie stood outside the sixth-story window on a mouse-sized suspended scaffold, used by window washers. She’d lowered herself down from the roof.

“Need your windows done, sir?” she asked playfully, peering through the glass with her emerald eyes.

“Why yes, these windows are a bit dirty aren’t they?“ he answered, never so happy to see her face again as he was now.

Basil reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a short metal tool with a small, sharpened wheel at the end. A glass cutter. 

Their banter had caused some of the nearby mice to stir in their sleep. Basil looked back at them, before turning to Nellie and motioning her to be quiet by putting his finger up to his mouth. He couldn’t risk the commotion alerting the night watchman before he got the glass removed from the window so people could escape. Nellie nodded, and looked on as Basil came up to the window, and starting at the bottom right corner where the glass met the nailed-down window sill, he pressed the tool into the glass, rolling the tool back and forth until he made his way through. He then slid the tool upward, and then across. On the other side Nellie kept the glass stable with her hands, and when it finally came loose, she helped Basil take it out and he placed it on the ground.

“So, how was your day?” Nellie asked with a grin.

“I think I should listen to you more often,” Basil groaned, breathing in the fresh night air, “Anyway, let’s get these mice out of here. This place is horrid.”

“I hate to say I told you so.”

“No you don’t,” Basil interjected sarcastically. He then turned and whistled. “Alright everyone, time to wake up. We’re breaking out of here.”

“Ah pipe down will ya?” muttered Roc, until he looked up and rubbed his eyes. He shook his friend Pee Wee awake, “Say, wake up! He cut the glass! We’re bustin’ out tonight!”

One by one the mice awoke, and soon they started crowding over.

“Now now, this scaffold can probably only hold five at a time, we need to be careful,” Basil warned, “Three of you can come for the first trip. If we’re quiet, the guards won’t come in after us.”

Basil hopped through the window and stood with Nellie. The mice pushed forward, crowding the window.

“One at a time now…” Nellie said.

Basil reached out and helped a little girl onto the scaffold. Dylan O’Brian was next up, followed by a large Sicilian mouse with a thick moustache. Once everyone was loaded on, Nellie and Basil pulled the ropes on the pulleys, taking the scaffold up to the roof. It was strenuous, but once there, everyone got off. Basil and Nellie lowered it back down to the window, and five more got on. With over forty mice in the room, it took a long while to get everyone out. From there the mice traveled down the metal foldable staircases on the side of the building, down to the ground below and off on their way. Many expressed their gratitude to the detective and the reporter before they left, Basil being hugged by far more children than he was comfortable with. After more than an hour, they oversaw the last of the group make it to the roof. This included the young Native American man Basil had been seated next to.

“I wish to extend to you my whole-hearted thanks, Basil,” he said with a bow, “I have been trapped here in the upper world for weeks now. My name is Hakan. Before I return to my tribe, I am indebted to you and I wish to repay that debt.”

Nellie and Basil exchanged glances.

“You don’t have to do that, good sir,” Basil said, “Just run along back to your reservation, and be more careful of crooked conmen when you return to the city.”

“I know not the meaning of this ‘reservation’ you speak of,” Hakan said, “I left my tribe to visit the upper world because I had grown tired of our way of life down below the ground, in hiding. I wanted to see the sun, to breathe the air, to see the blue skies that I had only heard of in stories. Instead, I met a gold-fanged rat, who placed me in that place…”

Basil was growing more and more fascinated with this fellow.

“Do you mean to tell me that somewhere below the surface there is, completely intact, a group of indigenous mice who avoided European conquest by going into hiding?” 

“Do not tell any other upper worlders about it. But you are correct.”

Basil turned to Nellie, “He called us ‘upper worlders’…”

“Oh really, the very idea,” Nellie said skeptically, “I suppose there’s a clan of Puritans living beneath London too, fleeing persecution.”

“Tell me dear sir, how well might your tribe know how to navigate the city’s sewer and storm drainage system?” Basil asked.

“The European humans built many tunnels below the ground. Our tribe has used these tunnels as a way of coming to the upper world for food. Only the Chief and a select few are allowed up above, for our own safety. But the Chief knows many tunnels, maybe all of them.”

“Hmm…if he knows where Warren hides out, he might be our best lead,” Basil said, formulating a plan.

“Really, Basil? You’re honestly planning on…”

“Yes dear Ms. Brie I am seriously planning on taking this lead as it may be the best one we have,” Basil interrupted, “Are you planning on coming along?”

“I think the two of you have been at the sewing machines too long.”

Basil put an arm around her shoulders, “Come now Nellie, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Well, I suppose it might make a good newspaper article, if it were true,” Nellie said.

“Ah ah ah, except that you can’t report on this part of the case or else you’d be violating the trust of our dear friend here and his tribe, who don’t want the world knowing about them.” 

“So I wouldn’t even get an article out of it?” Nellie sounded disappointed.

“No, but you’d get to be there when we uncover Warren’s lair, and you could write all about that, just make up how we found it.”

“I don’t know how I let you talk me into these sorts of zany schemes, Basil.”

“Then it’s settled!” Basil said with a smile, “Alright then. I think we’ll need time to prepare for the journey and pack, plus it is rather late…err…early. What say we go back to the apartment and rest before planning everything from there, sound good?”

“Lead the way,” said Nellie, “You can fill me in on what happened while we head back.”

The three of them made their way down the steel staircases, sliding down most of the way, until reaching the sidewalk below.

“I wish I could be there to see the look on McNibble’s face,” Hakan remarked.

“Indeed, this will be his ruin. And I’m sure Warren will be none too pleased,” Basil said with satisfaction.

“Did you get Warren to admit he bought the stolen artifacts?” Nellie asked.

“Sadly no,” Basil said, “He was too smart to admit to it, but I still think he has them.”

“How about evidence that he’s a cat in disguise?” Nellie asked.

“Ah yes…tell me Nellie did you stop to look at his teeth when you saw him?”

“Well I always see that gold fang of his…”

“No buck teeth though.” 

“Now that you mention it, that is a little odd.” 

“His nose is also perfectly round and cone shaped. I think it’s being held there with a string. We’ll get to the bottom of that before long.”

“Hm, well now you have me thinking,” Nellie said, “Anyway, did anything else important happen in there?”

“Oh yes, I talked to a chap who had seen Fievel’s family on the boat to America. I got a description of them and everything, plus a little background information on them.”

Nellie smiled, “And here I didn’t think you cared about Fievel.”

“I was bored in there, as long as there was some kind of case to follow it was more interesting that sewing,” Basil said, denying he had any other reason for looking into it.

“I think you’re just a big softy deep down inside and you don’t want to admit it,” she teased, linking her arm with his as they walked.

“That’s a load of rubbish and you know it,” Basil retorted.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Nellie giggled, “You aren’t the only one around here who’s good at deductive reasoning.”

“So, you two are a couple?” Hakan asked.

They both stopped and looked back at Hakan, before exchanging bashful glances.

“Depends on how you define the term, I suppose…” Basil answered nervously.

“Ahem, erm…yes, good answer,” Nellie chimed in. The truth was neither of them were sure just yet.

Hakan gave a smirk, “Okay, I will ask no more questions.”

Hakan wasn’t too shabby at deductive reasoning himself, Basil realized.

12

The three of them took their time and slept in the next morning, Basil being the first one up. He was already enjoying tea and crumpets over the day’s issue of the Daily Nibbler, sitting in his robe in the living room, when Nellie awoke and came out around a half hour later, still in her nightgown, her hair down. Hakan lay sleeping on a sofa in the room.

“So, have they heard about the breakout at the sweatshop yet?” Nellie asked, coming over to read over Basil’s shoulder. 

“It doesn’t look like it, maybe it will make the evening edition,” Basil said, sipping some tea, “If any one of the former employees recognize us and tell the press what we did, we’ll probably have quite the price on our heads once Warren gets wind of it.”

“Yes I imagine so,” said Nellie with a yawn, “It’s not like we don’t already.”

“We can probably rule out going anywhere in daylight anymore unless we have an extremely convincing disguise. And I‘ve just about used all of the ones I brought with me.”

“But fortunately, we’ll be navigating lost underground tunnels for the time being,” Nellie said, glancing toward Hakan, “We just need to get to wherever the entrance is and hope we don’t run into any cats along the way.”

“Another dangerous day of risking our lives. Nothing we can’t handle.” 

“Well I’m going to go wash up,” she said, walking toward the bathroom, “We can discuss our plans once I’m out.”

“Right. Can’t have you being dirty while we’re trudging through old tunnels and sewers.”

“Very funny,” she said with a smirk, looking back at him.

“You know, I‘ve never seen you with your hair down until just now, I mean aside from after the cat attack. You look nice.” 

Nellie was caught off guard, and blushed at the compliment, “Why…thank you. I guess I always keep my hair in a bun to make it more manageable…”

“Oh I understand that, I just…notice your hair more when it’s down is all,” Basil said, clearing his throat.

“But you notice everything, Basil.”

“Ah yes, quite right,” Basil admitted with a chuckle, “At any rate, carry on. I’ll finish my breakfast.”

“I won’t be long.” she said.

Nellie smiled and closed the door behind her, thinking over what he said to herself. Obviously, he was trying to tell her something, she thought as she looked at herself in the mirror for a moment, taking in how she looked. Really, she hadn’t taken this much consideration into her appearance since she was a giddy schoolgirl trying to impress the boys.

Hakan began to stir on the sofa, before sitting up and rubbing his eyes, his long black hair draped over his shoulders. He’d slept in his clothes, which were “upper-worlder” clothes; a black sweatshirt with blue pants, obviously not the buckskin clothing he probably wore back where he was from. The reddish fur tone and the hair length were what really gave him away though.

“Rise and shine, Hakan,” Basil said, sipping his tea, “We have a big day ahead dear boy.”

He yawned, “I have grown homesick, I am excited to return, although I fear the Chief will be very mad when he sees me again, and I do not know how he will react to my bringing upper-worlders along.”

“Hm, tell me, what is the name of your tribe? I do know a few things about indigenous American mice.”

“We are the Lenape. More than two hundred years ago we lived on this land, at peace with nature. Before all of these buildings were here and we were driven underground.”

“Ah yes, the Lenape, some of the first natives that the Dutch settlers encountered in the 1600’s. Well this will be a unique learning experience, I’m most excited. The only pity is that I’ll need to keep what I’ve seen to myself, but don’t worry old chap, your secret will be safe with Nellie and I.”

“I trust that it will, my friend,” Hakan said, “Otherwise I would not have told you of our greatest treasure.”

After a few minutes of waiting, as Hakan helped himself to some crumpets, Nellie emerged from the bathroom dressed in a robe, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. She quickly went into her room to change.

“Very well then Hakan, I think we’re almost ready. Now where is the entrance to these hidden tunnels?”

“In the wooded area your people call Central Park, there is a statue. Hidden in the statue is a secret opening. We will go there.”

“Aha, very well then.” Basil said, walking to the closet and grabbing his brown longcoat, taking the robe off. He was already wearing a vest, tie and slacks underneath. As he fastened his hat on his head, Nellie emerged in her normal green dress. Except she was wearing her hair down now, down to her shoulders, though neatly combed and held together in the back with hair clips to keep it from getting in the way too much.

“I’m ready. Do we know where we’re going?” she asked, as if nothing were different.

Basil eyed her hairstyle, “Hakan told me of a secret entranceway at Central Park. You know the city better than either of us do I think, so you can guide us that far until Hakan takes over.”

“Okay, we’ll take the trolley again,” Nellie said, “I know that park fairly well.”

Hakan snuck a few crumpets into his pockets as he picked the lantern up from the table. When Basil raised an eyebrow at him, he gave a sheepish grin.

“I know not what is in these ‘crumpets’, but I like it.”

“I don’t suppose your people ever had access to cheese. You’re welcome to take them then,” Basil said, as they walked toward the door.

The trip to Central Park was rather uneventful, they managed to get to the stop just as the trolley arrived, and rode it for some time until it stopped at the gates of Central Park. To a mouse Central Park was like a dense jungle, the size of a national park to humans. Thus the mice and rats who occupied the park tended to be of the more rural sort, despite being surrounded by a city. The park was also home to a pack of stray dogs known as the Council of Dogs; Nellie had gone to them before for leads on the stories she was working on. But luckily for them they only needed to stay on the paved pathway until arriving at a tall statue of a human near a fountain. Dodging the footsteps of humans, the trio made it to the stone statue. 

“Well, here we are Hakan,” said Nellie, “Now where is that secret door?”

Hakan put the lantern down on the ground and placed his hands against the stone and walked along its side, “You must feel for it, we made it nearly undetectable to upper-worlders when we carved it…”

Basil walked ahead of Hakan, before stopping at a spot and pushing with his hand. The door slid open. Hakan blinked in surprise.

“Now let’s get in fast before anyone sees us.” 

“Don’t worry Hakan, I still think your secret entrance is safe. Just not from Basil,” Nellie said with amusement.

Hakan shrugged and picked the lantern up again, “Very well then, Basil and Nellie. Follow me.”

Hakan led the way as the trio moved in through the passageway. Nellie closed the doorway behind her and Hakan lit the lantern.

“Hm, this upper world torch device is very effective,” he noted, holding it in front of him. 

The tunnel made a sharp turn downward for a long time, going down below the statue and underground. They continued until the tunnel leveled off at a long metal pipe.

“We follow the pipe,” Hakan said, turning and walking alongside it in the dark tunnel.

“My, it’s a good thing none of us are claustrophobic,” Nellie said, hugging her chest and eyeing the walls of the very narrow passageway.

“Only fools are fearless, right dear Nellie?” Basil slowed down to walk alongside her, “These narrow tunnels are a bit uneasy to be in for me too.”

“To an upper-worlder used to the open air and the sky above their heads it would take some getting used to,” Hakan commented, “To us Lenape, we have lived this way for generations.”

Basil and Nellie exchanged glances, both feeling a tinge of guilt on behalf of the Native American mice, and wondering how well their presence was going to be received.

“I do apologize for that, I mean…as little as that apology is probably worth,” Nellie said.

“You yourself are not guilty. The actions of your people two hundred years ago were not your own. Besides, I am indebted to you both, remember? The Chief will understand that when we get there, whether you are Europeans or not.”

As he finished speaking, the tunnel around the pipe gave way to a wider cavern area. The walls of the cave were wet, and the faint sound of water flowing in the distance could he heard.

“We are getting closer now. Come with me.” 

“I wonder, are we getting close to the harbor?” Basil asked, having for once lost his sense of direction in these underground caverns.

“What you are hearing is the water that flows through the human tunnels above us. Soon we will be underneath the tunnel of the great steel snake, that for now rests beneath the earth in dormancy.”

“Steel snake…I think he may mean the abandoned pneumatic subway train,” Nellie suggested, “I know where that is.”

They continued on, emerging from between a very tight space between two rocks, having to cross through sideways. They emerged into an open area, with paintings on the walls.

“Well now, how very interesting,” Basil said as he examined the art. It seemed to be a map of the cave system, written in a pictogram language the mice must have developed independently. Except that in the pathway ahead, the map had pictures of spikes, arrows, hot coals, and other unpleasant things. “Hm, I don’t suppose we’re going that way, are we?”

“Hahaha, no, those booby traps are just in case of an invasion,” Hakan said as he placed his hand against a red paw print on the wall. As he did, the cave wall on one side opened up.

“I say, ingenious,” Basil said in awe, “Your people are highly advanced, all things considered.”

Hakan led the way once again. The tunnel ahead was flat and well-carved, not nearly as constricting as the past ones. They emerged down a stairway, which opened into a huge underground cave system lit with torches, and dotted with teepees along the ground.

“By jove…” Basil breathed.

“Okay, there goes the last of my skepticism,” Nellie said as she gazed down at the village.

They were spotted from afar by a mouse stationed up above in a basket that was dangling from the ceiling by ropes, who blew a horn to call attention to the rest of the village. Soon, villagers came pouring from the tents, and the trio were surrounded by Natives with spears in their hands. Hakan stood in front of Basil and Nellie, speaking to them in his native Lenape tongue.

“Any idea what he’s saying?” Nellie asked in a whisper.

“…well I don’t know everything, you know…”

The crowd parted to make way for a tall, muscular mouse, dressed in a loincloth and adorned with feathers. Beside him walked a young girl wearing a buckskin dress, her black hair tied in pigtails.

“Aha, that would be the chief,” Basil said.

Not knowing what else to do, Basil bowed before the Chief. Nellie soon followed suit. The Chief stared down at them.

“You may rise, upper-worlders,” he said.

Basil and Nellie stood up. “Ahem, well, it’s an honor to meet you dear sir. I’m relieved you speak English.”

“Our tribe dealt with your kind long enough to learn your language, before we learned to distrust you,” the Chief said accusingly, “But, my nephew Hakan has been missing for weeks, and he tells us you saved him from a terrible fate.”

“Yes, we did,” Nellie explained, “He was being forced to work at a shop making clothes for no pay. We helped everyone escape.”

“Hm…it does not surprise me that such places exist up above, it only disappoints me,” said the Chief, “It was noble of you to come to the aid of Hakan and the other prisoners. We Lenape mice do not forget such favors. Pray, tell us your names.”

“I’m Nellie Brie.” 

“Basil of Baker Street at your service.”

“Hmm…Nellie and Basil, what you are seeing now is something no European has ever seen, and was never meant to see. Our elders told us that if such a day should ever come to pass, we have two options: allow you to live among us permanently, or put you to death.”

Basil and Nellie exchanged worried glances. The young girl bit her lip and looked up at her father.

“But Chief, these two saved my life,” Hakan protested, “I can feel that their spirits are true, they will never betray us.”

“How do we know we can ever trust you not to reveal this secret place to the outside world if we let you leave?” the Chief asked.

Nellie and Basil were silent for a moment, at a loss of how to prove their trustworthiness, until Basil spoke up.

“I know that your trust is asking for a lot, after the way your people have been victimized by my own. But let me just say that my colleague and I are committed to the betterment of the upper-world, it is our duty to combat crime and to help those in need, just like we helped Hakan. As such, we would not dare subject your people to more suffering than you’ve already endured.” 

“Basil’s right, you have our word,” said Nellie, “I vow never to tell a soul about this place.”

“Hmmm…” the Chief looked down in thought. His daughter tugged on his arm.

“Father, I do not think these two will harm us.” she said with a smile.

“Nor do I, Cholena,” he said, picking her up in his arms, “Very well, Basil and Nellie, you are welcome visitors to our tribe.”

“They have even brought a peace offering,” said Hakan, reaching into his pocket to take out a cheese crumpet, “They call it a cheese crumpet.”

“I believe I have heard of this cheese crumpet you speak of,” the Chief said, taking the crumpet and biting into it, “Mmm…this is most delicious.”

“Indeed, it’s unfortunate my maid didn’t come with me from London or I’d give you the very best-tasting ones,” Basil said. 

Nellie and Basil’s stay with the Lenape would be a most fascinating visit indeed. For the sake of his own interest, though not allowed to divulge anything once he left, Basil wanted to learn all he could about their way of life before they had to make their leave. Though it was driving Nellie mad finding out about all of this and not being allowed to report on it at all. She had a promise to keep.

13

Basil and Nellie were soon taken to separate tents and dressed up in the local garb as the rest of the tribe prepared a welcoming ceremony; the Chief’s daughter Cholena braided Nellie’s hair into pigtails as one of the other tribal women fitted her for a buckskin dress and painted Nellie’s face, giving her a bead necklace as well. Meanwhile Basil was given buckskin pants and moccasins to wear, going shirtless like all men in the tribe did, as he was painted with ceremonial war paint on his head and chest, and given a bandanna with a feather in it to wear. From what Basil could gather the makeover was part of a ceremony and meant that they were being accepted as honorary members of the tribe, however brief their stay was going to be. Basil found the experience to be quite fascinating indeed. As soon as they exited their tents and got a look at each other, Nellie burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Basil asked, as his feather drooped in front of his eye and he blew it back upward again, crossing his arms.

“Oh I don’t know, I just never pictured you dressed like that,” she giggled.

“I must say you do make a good Lenape maiden,” Basil said.

“Come, the feast in your honor is ready to commence,” said Cholena, holding Nellie’s hand.

“Very well then dear girl, just guide us there,” Basil said.

Mice danced around the campfire as the Lenape tribe honored their guests with a grand feast, the Chief rehearsing incantations over the fire as drums were played. Among the dancers was Hakan, who seemed like he’d been given a verbal beating by the Chief while Nellie and Basil had been getting their indigenous makeovers. Basil could tell he looked nervous, and he avoided eye contact with them. 

Basil and Nellie sat cross-legged on the ground and helped themselves to berries and tiny melons, which apparently had been grown right there underground. Perhaps their small size could be attributed to a lack of sunlight, Basil thought. Next to Nellie sat Cholena, who explained to them how they brought water in from underground rivers to help grow their crops. Everything in the caves was lit by torch lights placed in strategic areas, making it surprisingly bright, which Cholena claimed helped the plants to grow. 

However, questions about this place plagued Basil’s mind. Where did all of the wood for the torches come from? How were they able to grow anything underground, without any real sunlight? There was obviously more to this place than met the eye, but then again, Hakan did mention that the Chief and a select few others ventured to the surface fairly often, perhaps for supplies. Maybe he wanted to give his tribe the illusion that they were self-sufficient, so they wouldn’t feel the need to leave, like Hakan had. Did the Chief have connections with someone up above? Whatever was going on, the fact that they were forced to lead such an existence down here was depressing to say the least. But, they seemed to have adjusted well.

The girl, Cholena, had been taught English and took the job of explaining things to Basil and Nellie. She was a charming young girl, who didn’t have any fear of ‘upper-worlders’, instead she was fascinated by them. And she was old enough to where being around her didn’t make Basil too uneasy, though she was still a child. Basil sat on the opposite side of Nellie from Cholena to keep some distance.

“What is London like?” Cholena asked Basil, “How far away is it?”

“Ah, well, it’s rainy and foggy an awful lot. I wouldn’t say it has as huge of a crime problem as New York, though it does have it’s criminals. I think it’s a nice place to live myself, and I want to help keep it that way. And it’s across the Atlantic. It takes several days to get there by boat.”

“I think I might like to travel to London one day,” Nellie said, eyeing Basil.

“I’d like that very much, Ms. Brie,” Basil said with a smile.

“So you are from Europe?” Cholena asked, “Did you come here to live in America like the rest of the upper-worlders?” 

“Yes I am, but I’m afraid I can’t really stay here in America. I’m only here to solve a crime.” 

“Will Nellie come with you when you go home?” Cholena asked.

That was the trouble with children, Basil thought. They never knew when not to address the ‘elephant in the room’ as it were. Nellie sighed a bit and brought her knees up to her chest, hugging them.

“I have an important job at a newspaper here in New York. One that I worked really hard to get, and one that might be very hard to get again somewhere else,” her ears went down, “So…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll try to work something out...”

She gazed over at Basil.

“You’ll have plenty of time to work that out,” Basil said, “I’ll be quite busy going after Ratigan again upon my return to London.”

“Not too busy to respond to letters I hope,” Nellie said.

“Of course not.”

Nellie reached down and held Basil’s hand, smiling at him. 

“I hope you’ll wait for me.”

“Not to worry, dear Nellie. I never was the most social mouse,” he gave a light chuckle.

Cholena watched them with youthful curiosity, not at all picking up on what was being said between the lines. 

The Chief threw dust into the fire and made a proclamation in the Lenape tongue, diverting their attention.

“May I ask what he’s saying?” Basil inquired.

“He is calling upon the spirits of the Earth to embrace you,” Cholena said, “This may be the first visitor’s ceremony we have ever had.”

The Chief turned to them.

“The spirits have welcomed you into our tribe, though your stay need not be permanent. After some meditation, I believe that the spirits have guided you here for a purpose.” 

“What we really came here, sir, was for your expertise in the underground tunnel ways of New York,” Basil said. 

“So you did not come here out of curiosity about our tribe?” 

“Not solely, no,” Basil replied.

“Didn’t Hakan tell you that?” asked Nellie.

“No…but maybe it is because I did not give him a chance to explain. Leaving for the upper-world is a grave crime. Endangering himself is one thing, but he endangered us all by leaving. He will be punished, but after you leave.”

“Please do not be too harsh on him, father,” Cholena said.

“Your heart is kind, my daughter, but you do not fully understand,” the Chief said, “We will talk more after the ceremony. For now, enjoy yourselves.”

Basil watched as the muscular mouse made his way to his tent, closing the flap and not wishing to be disturbed. 

“I hope we haven’t caused more harm than good, coming here,” said Nellie. 

“As do I. After this feast we mustn’t overstay our welcome.” 

“You will be leaving soon?” Cholena asked, disheartened.

“I’m afraid we were never going to stay here for that long anyway,” Nellie said, patting her head, “We have a crime to solve, and your father can help us.”

“I will miss you both,” she remarked.

“Well dear girl…I hope that you get to see the world someday,” Basil said, feeling sympathy for her being trapped underground. The more he thought about it the less he could blame Hakan for trying to escape.

After enjoying the hearty feast, Cholena escorted them to her father’s tent. Hakan, having finished the spiritual dance routine, followed close behind, though fearing facing the chief again.

“The feast has finished, father,” Cholena said.

“Then enter.”

Cholena opened the flap, and all three walked in. The Chief was sitting cross-legged in front of a long portrait made entirely of beads, depicting pictograms and such. It was quite elaborate.

“Do you know what this is?” the Chief asked.

Basil came closer and examined it, “Hm…it looks to be a sort of…illustrated story I suppose.”

“This is our tribe’s history, from the earliest times to our times down here,” the Chief replied, “This here is our greatest treasure. One which has been protected for generations.”

Hakan gave a nervous look, as the Chief turned around.

“I hope that when you return to the surface, you will do your best to protect this treasure, and all it represents. Or else…it will never be added to again, it will only end up in a European museum, if not destroyed altogether.”

Nellie and Basil wore somber expressions.

“We understand, Chief,” Nellie said, “Not a word about this place to anyone when we return.”

“We understand the significance of your culture and your people,” Basil assured him. 

“You have given me no reason to doubt you. You have been respectful and honorable thus far. I think that Hakan judged your character well.”

“About that, you aren’t going to be too harsh on him for leaving are you?” Nellie asked, “I’d say working in that sweatshop was punishment enough.”

“It will take some time, but I will forgive him. I think he has learned much from his time up above. It should prove to be an effective cautionary tale for my tribe.”

“Yes Chief, I won’t let our people forget what it was like up there, as we discussed,” Hakan answered.

Basil didn’t like the sound of his tale being used to control the rest of the tribe through fear…but there was very little he could do, they were guests at the Chief’s mercy. 

“So what is it you want in return for rescuing Hakan?” the Chief asked.

“We were told you know the sewer systems of the city quite well,” Basil said.

“This is true. As you may have guessed, sometimes it is necessary to go to the surface for supplies. Which is the reason for the existence of that secret tunnel Hakan showed you.”

By the tone of his voice Basil could tell that was a bit of a sore spot. 

“What we were hoping was that maybe you knew something about the lair of a cat gang,” Nellie said.

“Hm, you mean the cave of the cats?” the Chief asked.

“That sounds like an apt description,” Basil said.

“It is a dangerous place. Why do you wish to be taken there?”

“We’re tracking down a criminal,” Nellie replied, “One who’s responsible for the existence of the sweatshop Hakan was sold to, and innumerable other travesties in New York.” 

“Very brave of you indeed,” he said, crossing his arms, “Hakan and I will take you close, and point you in the direction of it. But we will not enter with you.”

“Understood,” Basil said with a smile.

“When do you wish to leave?”

“By my estimation it is around sunset up above. It would be best to arrive at night I believe, when Warren should be there and not elsewhere. So…soon.”

“We will leave soon then,” said the Chief, “You may want to change back into your upper-world clothes. We do not want any evidence that you were here.”

“Shame, I was enjoying the way you looked with no shirt on,” Nellie said, flashing a sassy grin at Basil, who chuckled and cleared his throat. 

“You may keep the necklace Cholena made for you, if you like,” said the Chief, “But that is all.”

“You know I think I will,” Nellie said, patting Cholena’s head as she smiled.

“Very well then, let us get ready to leave,” said Basil, opening the tent flap for Nellie as they exited the tent.

“Will I ever get to see the upper-world, father?” Cholena asked, looking up at his towering figure.

“Perhaps, when you are older, I will take you up to see it,” he said, “But it is not safe up above…it will have to be when you are much older.”

14

After about one more hour, once Basil and Nellie had changed back into their regular attire (though Nellie hadn‘t bothered to unbraid her pigtails), the tribe gathered around to see off these new foreign guests at the opening of the tunnel out of their sanctuary from the upper-world. The Chief and Hakan joined them.

“The journey should not take very long,” said the Chief, “The tunnel to the den of the cats is just down the underground river from which we get our water.”

“Thank you for coming with to show us the way,” Nellie said gratefully, “Our stay has been fun, when we get back to the surface we’ll do our best to make the surface safe enough so that one day we can all enjoy it together.”

“You have been most respectful guests. If there is one thing this has proven, it is that there is compassion to be found in all mice.” 

“I will miss you,” Cholena said.

“We’ll miss you too,” said Nellie with a smile, “Thanks for the necklace.”

“Let us go then,” said the Chief, “Come, Hakan.”

“Yes, Chief,” Hakan said, “It will be a pity to have to part with you, Basil and Nellie.”

“Yes dear Hakan, you’ve been a good companion,” said Basil, “Well then, let us head off.”

With that the Chief lit a torch with the flame of another, and took the lead, escorting them through the mouth of the tunnel as the members of the Lenape tribe gathered and waved farewell to their guests. Initially they went through the same way they got in, a wide underground cave with painted pictograms on the walls. Venturing deeper they came to the secret panel; the Chief put his hand over the paw print and it slid open.

“Though I dare not venture the other way, I wonder about what technological intricacies lie within the ‘booby trapped’ area,” Basil remarked.

“You would surely not survive the trip if you were to see it for yourself,” said the Chief, “You would be sliced by blades, pierced by a thousand arrows, and cooked over hot coals.”

“I’m content with leaving it all to the imagination,” said Nellie.

“It does sound quite remarkable though,” said Basil.

“Such technology is lost to us now, we are now a peaceful tribe,” the Chief explained, as he led them down another tunnel.

They could hear flowing water in the distance, and the walls of the cave became wet to the touch. But Basil had lost sight of their footprints from the way in a number of hours earlier, meaning this was now a different cave. The ground started to slope upward toward the surface. Following the Chief through twists and turns, he passed through a narrow crevasse, which the other three behind him had to squeeze through to get into. The sound of rushing water was louder now. They came up to another steel pipe, this one open at the end.

“You must climb through this pipe to get to the upper tunnel. When you emerge, turn right and follow the flow of the water. It will lead you to the den of cats. Hakan and I will return now. Many thanks for bringing my nephew back to me.”

“And many thanks for freeing me from the sweat shop,” Hakan said with a smile. 

Basil shook his hand, “It was no problem old chap, pleasure to be of service.”

Nellie gave him a hug and smiled, “Take care of yourself Hakan.”

“We will seal this pipe after you leave, just to be safe,” said the Chief.

“Understood, you can never be too careful.” said Basil, crouching in and surveying the inside of the pipe, “Are you ready, Nellie?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” she said, “Good by Chief, Hakan…”

“Good bye,” said Hakan. He was going to miss his new companions. Maybe one day, though, he would return to the surface, he thought.

Basil climbed in, on his hands and knees. It wasn’t too tight of a squeeze for him. Nellie on the other hand had to take a deep breath and prepare herself before entering, watching Basil in front of her and biting her lip as they entered the pitch-black pipe.

“Claustrophobia acting up again, Nellie?” Basil asked.

“J-just a little,” she replied meekly, admitting her anxiety.

“Just remember that I’m right in front of you. Try not to let your mind play tricks on you; just keep climbing.” 

“Okay Basil, I’ll try,” she said, climbing up through the pipe behind Basil. The pipe soon curved straight upward.

“Follow the sound of the water.” Basil said, standing up, “Here, I’ll simply brace with my arms and legs…”

Spreading his arms and legs he was able to climb the sides of the pipe upward. Nellie waited until he was high enough up and did the same.

“Don’t fall now,” she said, since Basil would have nowhere to fall but on top of her. 

“Not to worry,” Basil said.

The pipe went on for a long time, to the point where if they were to fall, it would end very painfully for them. But eventually, Basil felt the pipe curve horizontally, and was able to crawl on his arms and legs again. Nellie soon followed behind. There was a dim light at the end of the pipe.

“We’re almost there now,” said Basil.

“Thank goodness,” Nellie panted.

In a few moments Basil and Nellie both emerged from a broken pipe along the brick wall of one of New York’s large underground storm drains.

“Well here we are,” said Basil, looking around, “Wait a moment…do you hear something?”

Basil could almost hear the high-pitched sound of a violin echoing off the walls.

“I think so,” Nellie replied.

“Come on, I’d wager it’s coming from Warren’s hideout.”

The two of them scampered through the tunnel, along the softly flowing water. It was certainly creepy down there. Occasionally, they’d see a cockroach scuttle by. As they continued though, they began to hear splashes and footsteps ahead of them.

“Stop,” Basil whispered, and the two of them listened, “I don’t think that’s a cockroach…”

“It doesn’t sound big enough to be a cat though, at least I don’t think,” said Nellie.

“Alright, let’s move on…but quietly.”

The lighting was dim, only coming from the street lamps above shining through the storm drain grates. But as they moved, they could make out the familiar shape of a small mouse in the distance.

“What’s a young mouse doing down here?” Nellie whispered.

“I don’t know, think we should risk calling out to him?” Basil asked, not sure if this mouse might be affiliated with Warren somehow.

“If the mouse is lost down here I think we should help,” Nellie said.

The little mouse scurried through a narrow tunnel, as black, slimy cockroaches began to crawl behind it. Just the sight of it sent chills down their spines. 

“Child, watch out behind you!” Nellie called out.

The mouse turned around, and gasped at the sight of the bugs. He ran for it, and Basil and Nellie ran too, splashing through puddles. The child leapt across a chasm, grabbing hold of some lichen dangling from the steel grating of a storm drain cover, which filtered light down from a street lamp as the ledge he jumped from collapsed, with the roaches on it. Basil could hear the sound of something splashing below, and the crunching of bug bodies. As he and Nellie came closer through the narrow tunnel, they then realized who they’d been following.

“Why, Mr. Mousekovsky!” Basil exclaimed, standing at the opening of the tunnel, at the edge of where the ground gave way.

“Mousekewitz, Basil,” Nellie corrected him.

“Whatev-my word…what on Earth is that thing?” Basil was taken aback by the sight of the strange beast below, munching and gorging itself on the cockroaches.

“I…have no idea,” Nellie said, looking over the edge of the chasm fearfully.

“I’ve a fairly acute understanding of zoology, and I still don’t know. Is it a salamander? A pike? Some new species?”

Fievel looked on at them silently.

“It doesn’t matter. What are you doing down here Fievel?” Nellie asked.

“I-I heard a violin. I think my papa’s down here.” 

“Confound it child, not every bloody violin in New York belongs to your father,” Basil replied irritably.

“But I just have a feeling that it’s him! I’ve gotta at least look.” Fievel protested.

“Fievel, we have reason to believe that there’s a gang of very dangerous cats down here,” Nellie lectured, “It’s too dangerous.” 

Fievel got to his feet.

“I’m not afraid of no mean old cat. Bridget says in America we shouldn’t have to be afraid of cats. I’m gonna go find my family.”

“For heaven’s sake dear boy, listen to her!” Basil shouted, “Look, why don’t you stay there, and we’ll go ahead and if we see your father we’ll come back and get you. Fair enough?”

“I wanna go myself,” Fievel replied stubbornly.

Basil cursed under his breath. He listened; the violin was getting easier to hear. It seemed to be playing a particularly atrocious rendition of Stephen Foster’s “Beautiful Dreamer”, screeching the high notes. 

“Does your father play violin that horribly?” Basil asked sarcastically, “I thought you said that was his profession.” 

Offended, Fievel frowned, straightened his hat, and ran ahead. Basil slapped his forehead.

“Come back here!!”

“Great. You sure have a way with kids, Basil,” Nellie said with a sigh, “We have to catch up with him.”

They gazed up at the dangling lichen above, and then down at the hideous salamander-like animal. They then exchanged glances.

“Think you can make a jump like that?” Basil asked.

“I can try,” Nellie said nervously, “How about you?”

“I certainly hope so,” Basil said, stroking his chin and trying to work out the logistics, “Very well, I’ll get a running head start. If I run for approximately six inches and jump just before I reach the edge of the chasm, the momentum should get me to that dangling lichen or moss….whatever that is…and I should be able to swing to the ledge. You too. That is, if it supports my weight.”

“Well hurry, Fievel’s rushing into Warren’s den.” Nellie warned.

“Yes yes,” Basil said, looking down at the watery chasm once more with a gulp, “Here goes nothing.”

Moving back, he got a running head start, and made a leap. He grasped for the lichen, and got a firm grip. Looking down, he could see the amphibious beast below him, snarling hungrily. He swung himself back and forth, before jumping onto the ledge. He then turned around.

“You can do it Nellie,” he said.

Taking a breath, she tried to forget about the hungry beast beneath them and walked back to get a head start. Fievel’s life might be at stake, she reminded herself. Biting her lip, she readied herself, and then sprinted, making a leap and grabbing at the lichen. When she caught it, she felt a sudden jolt. It was ripping.

“Swing, Nellie!” Basil shouted, reaching out to her.

Nellie looked down, the lizard beast hissed and licked its teeth, hungry for mouse. She then looked at Basil with wide eyes, as the lichen began to tear after having held the weight of three mice now. Taking another breath, she swung her legs, afraid to put even more pressure on it. Soon, she swung far enough to reach the ledge. As she did, the lichen finally tore. Flailing madly, she was able to grab Basil’s hand, as the lizard gorged itself on the snack of lichen from above. Basil strained himself to pull her up, and not be dragged down himself. Once she was up, she got on her hands and knees, panting, and Basil sat down.

“Close call,” Basil panted, “I should have let you go first…wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”

“It’s…it’s all right,” Nellie said, panting and trying to regain some composure. She stood up, still shaky, “Does that thing just…just wait down there for things to fall into its mouth?”

Basil chuckled a bit, “Quite a peculiar lifestyle. I should tell someone from Oxford about this thing.”

“Let’s get going,” Nellie said, dusting her dress off, which had already seen better days by now.

The two of them simply followed the sound of the music, trying desperately to catch up to Fievel before he got himself into even bigger trouble.

“It’s no wonder that boy lost his family in the first place,” Basil muttered in annoyance as they ran.

15

The sound of the violin became louder, the screeches making Basil’s fur stand on end.

“Whoever that is, playing a violin that way ought to be a criminal offense itself!” Basil said, making Nellie giggle.

As they came closer, they noticed messages painted on the walls. One read “No dogs allowed.” The other, “The Mott Street Maulers”.

“Well, certainly was nice of them to label their hideout for us, wasn’t it?” Nellie mused.

“That is rather foolish of them. That noisy violin is probably an even worse idea if they don’t want others knowing where they are.”

They stayed low and walked forward, peeking behind a brick wall into the hideout. It was filled with cats, many of them sitting around a table playing poker. There was an automatic piano at the back of the room. And, as luck would have it, Basil spotted the missing antiques from the museum; a statue and a clamshell mirror.

“Do you see Fievel anywhere?” Nellie whispered.

“No…but I do see the stolen artifacts. We now know for certain that Warren is the guilty party,” Basil said with a degree of triumph, “The question is now, what do we do about it?”

“What would one normally do in a case that involves a human crime as well?” Nellie asked.

“For that we can discreetly leave a tip-off as to the whereabouts of the artifacts at the police station and leave it up to the humans to get the artifacts out of here and back to London. It’s bringing Warren to justice that’s the trouble.”

“Hm, that makes sense. Speaking of which, where is Warren?”

Basil pointed up near the tip of the statue, where Warren sat on a plush cushion in front of the mirror, attempting to play the violin. Nellie was then shocked to see the truth about Warren; he pulled off his fake nose, then took off his fake ears and admired himself in the mirror. 

“Warren is a cat!” Nellie exclaimed in a whisper.

“I told you,” Basil whispered back with a smug grin.

“Why do you have to always be right about everything?” Nellie asked, rolling her eyes.

“You owe me a cheese crumpet now.”

“Hey, when did this turn into a bet? I do not.”

“Well it ought to have been a bet.”

They fell silent when they noticed Warren’s attention turn to the mirror. He pulled the glass off and reached in, grabbing at something.

“Uh oh…could it be…?” Nellie looked on.

Warren howled in pain, knocking the mirror over and shattering it, as Fievel hopped out and climbed down the statue.

“I should have known! Why that infernal child!” Basil whispered harshly, as the cats chased after Fievel. 

“We have to help him! What do we do?”

The room had erupted in chaos now as the cat gang scrambled over the piano to capture poor Fievel, who was doing a masterly job at evading them, Basil had to admit. He gazed bout the room, there was an exit to another sewer tunnel just in front of the piano, and in it, Basil spotted an old roller skate. Now given the slight incline of the ground perhaps he could work up enough acceleration to outrun the cats…

He got to his feet and darted for it, Nellie blinking in surprise before quickly following his lead. Basil ran up to the roller skate and hopped in, Nellie reaching it next before Fievel came running toward it.

“Over here Fievel!” Basil motioned, and the desperate boy jumped into the roller skate as it began rolling down the tunnel. Basil turned to Nellie, “We need more speed, use your leg!”

Basil pushed against the ground with one leg on the right side of the skate as Nellie did the same on the left side, while Fievel sat behind them watching the cats give chase. They seemed to be doing a good job staying ahead, until Basil noticed the wall up ahead.

“Turn left!” Basil called out, and he and Nellie steered the skate left, while two of the cats simply ran right into the wall. 

The incline grew even sharper as the skate rolled downhill, into what looked to be a flooded tunnel. Fievel and Nellie gasped.

“Hold your breath…” Basil warned.

The skate plunged into the water, and the three of them swam forward using the momentum from the skate. However, the cats were undeterred and dove into the water as well. Fievel found his way up to the surface first and continued running, before Basil and Nellie broke the surface and gasped for air. Up above them was a manhole cover, they just needed to climb up to it and they’d be safe. However, just as Basil and Nellie started to climb up after Fievel, they felt something grab them by the legs and drag them back under the water. Basil felt the fur of another cat brush by him, going after Fievel. Drat! 

After a few moments the cat crawled back out of the water, Nellie and Basil coughing and sputtering as they hung upside down.

“Gotcha, ya little vermin,” said a grinning cat, the one named Jake, “I’ll make you pay for gettin’ me wet. I hate water.”

Nellie coughed and looked at Basil helplessly, her bloomers exposed upside-down, but there was little she could do about that.

“I’m all out of improvised plans, Nellie,” Basil said grimly.

“Well on the bright side, it almost worked,” Nellie sighed.

“Aha, now I know who you’s two are. Da boss’ll love to hear dis one,” Jake said as he walked down the tunnel, keeping a firm grasp on the two mice. 

As they were carried back helplessly, they heard another splash behind them. Fievel coughed and screamed.

“Put me down you mean old cat!” he shouted.

“Quiet ya little runt!” the cat who had him shouted.

They were brought into the main chamber, which was now in shambles. A very irate-looking Warren, sans his disguise, stood in the middle of the mess with his arms folded behind his back. Tiger stood off to the side, fidgeting with his tail nervously.

“Did ya get da kid?” Warren demanded bitterly.

“More than dat boss. Look,” Jake said with a grin, holding up Nellie and Basil for him to see.

Warren’s scowl became a devious gold-toothed grin, “Well well, if it ain’t Nellie Brie, snooping as usual I see. And is dat Basil of Baker Street? I told ya the two of you’s shoulda taken da next boat back to London. Would’ve been a nice honeymoon. Instead, ya decided to snoop here, and uncover my dirty little secret.”

“What secret? I knew you were a filthy, flea-bitten sewer cat right from the start. You hardly needed a disguise,” Basil replied defiantly.

Warren frowned, “Wise guy eh? I’ll show you how things work here in America. A lot’s changed since 1776.”

“I got da kid boss,” said a bushy-furred cat, holding Fievel by his shirt as he squirmed and punched the air.

“Good. We can’t let any of these dirty little pests loose,” Warren said. 

“Does that mean it’s chow time boss?” Jake asked with a grin, licking his sharp teeth and holding Nellie up to his eyes, “I wanna eat this one. She’s real pretty, heh heh…nice bloomers too. Bet she goes down nice and easy.”

“I hope you choke to death on me. And I’d do everything in my power to make it so,” she said angrily, trying to take a swipe at his eye but missing. 

“Woah woah woah, easy fellas. You don’t realize who we got here. We got Nellie Brie, possibly the most famous reporter in America, and Basil of Baker Street, England’s greatest detective. If we eat ‘em, we stand to miss out on a ton of dough, see?”

“Huh? Whaddya mean boss?” asked Aces, puffing a cigar, holding it with his long sleeves.

“You know that Ratigan’s crazy about gettin’ revenge on this guy. How much ya think he’d pay for Basil of Baker Street, all tied up and delivered to him via express mail to London?” Warren asked with a sinister grin, “A little gift on our part for those nice artifacts he sold us.”

The other cats looked at each other and snickered. Basil frowned. He’d come up with some way to escape before that could happen, he was certain of it.

“Whaddabout the girl boss?” asked Jake.

“Hmm, yes, Nellie Brie…” he walked up to Jake to get a close look at Nellie, “I dunno, I don’t think whoever would buy her back from us would wanna kill her. If we let her go she‘d rat us out.”

Warren stroked his chin in thought.

“You know, you could keep her prisoner, and make her write newspaper articles for you,” suggested Digit from up above, “Something to help ensure you keep your cover while we recoup our losses from the sweatshops she’s liberated.”

“Y’know, I knew there was a reason I haven’t eaten you yet Digit,” Warren said, “I kinda like da sound of that. My own personal reporter, that every mouse in da city trusts.”

“I’ll never work for you Warren!” she shouted.

“Oh you will…even if we hafta torture you first, and I hope we do,” said Warren.

“If you want to torture me go back to playing that awful violin,” Nellie shot back.

Warren glared, “Oooh I’m gonna enjoy makin’ you suffer, ya cultureless broad.”

“And what about this little guy?” asked the cat who was holding Fievel, “He knows too much, we oughtta at least eat this little morsel.”

“Let me go!” Fievel yelled.

“Him? Hmm…dis kid belong to either one of you’s?” Warren asked Nellie and Basil.

Both of them sensed Warren was going to try to use Fievel as some sort of collateral against them to make them do what he wanted. 

“I’ve never seen him before in my life,” answered Basil.

“Liar.” Warren growled, “He either belongs to one of ya’s, or ya hired him to snoop on me.”

“I honestly haven’t the faintest clue what he was doing down here,” Basil lied.

“Ya sure risked yer necks for him though, at da cost of bein’ caught. So you wouldn’t mind if we ate him?” 

Fievel gasped, putting his hands over his mouth. Nellie bit her lip in concern, glancing toward Basil. Basil’s eyes met hers, and he gave a defeated sigh.

“Yes…we would mind very much if you harmed him,” Basil confessed, begrudgingly.

“Heh heh, I thought as much. Alright boys, we’ll keep da kid locked up in one of da bird cages. If either of you steps outta line or tries to escape, the kid gets it. And we’ll have someone watchin’ ya all night long, don’t you worry about dat.”

The cats seemed disappointed at the news that they weren’t allowed to eat any of them. But, they were obedient.

“And what about these little runts, where are we gonna stuff them?” asked Jake of Basil and Nellie.

“Put them in a cage too…but use da lock on it. I know these two are smart, probably master escape artists or somethin’. Keep a close eye on ‘em. I’m less worried about da kid. And after we get a bit of shut-eye we‘ll go mail a letter to ol‘ Ratigan telling him we got his nemesis locked up and he can have him for a price.”

Warren rubbed his paws together greedily, flashing his golden smile at them. Basil sighed and muttered ‘Bloody hell.’ under his breath.

“Then we’ll have Nellie type up an article about what an upstanding citizen I am,” Warren added.

Nellie gave a sickened look, though she was beginning to feel like she was going to pass out after being upside down for so long. Both she and Basil were seeing spots before their eyes as the blood rushed to their heads. Fievel in the meantime had tears welling up in his eyes.

“Wh-what are you going to do to me?” he sniffled, wiping his cheek with his sleeve as he dangled from the cats claws.

“Kiddo, you’re gonna be our new pet. If yer real nice we’ll even give you a little wheel to run on,” Warren snickered, “Alright boys, lock ‘em up. I‘m gonna hit the hay.”

Basil let his arms dangle disgracefully as he hung upside down. The Great Mouse Detective, defeated by a common gangster. What could be worse than this? As the three mice were taken away to the next room, Tiger looked on, biting his claws.

“Geez, that poor kid…” he said, not liking the way Fievel was being treated at all. But, could he ever find the courage to do something about it?

16

“I think I’m finally getting it…”

Basil strained and gritted his teeth as he twisted his tail in the lock, trying to get it open.

“Basil don’t hurt yourself, you could break your tail,” Nellie warned, putting a hand on his shoulder.

The unfortunate prisoners were locked up in a chamber filled with a huge pile of discarded bird cages. Basil had to wonder where it all came from, but this secret lair was a strange place as it was with its pianos and mirrors and stolen artifacts, not to mention the salamander thing. Fievel was in a separate cage, curled up and sobbing in a way that Basil had to admit pulled at his heartstrings, just a little, even though he pretended it just annoyed him. Their guard, Jake, was sitting in a wooden chair, his bowler hat pulled down over his eyes as he napped away; thus leading Basil to seize the chance and try to pick the lock.

“Just one more turn…” Basil said, gritting his teeth, before wincing and quickly pulling his injured tail out of the lock. 

“Are you okay?” Nellie asked with concern.

“I’m lucky I didn’t snap a vertebrae,” Basil said gloomily, sitting down and resting his arms on his kneecaps, “Oh who am I trying to kid? What’s the use? We’re done for.”

Nellie came to sit next to him, “Cheer up Basil, we’ll think of something.”

“How could I have been so blind…so brash…so stupid?” he lamented, “It wasn’t even that I was out-witted by a clever criminal genius, that I at least would be able to come to terms with. I simply succumbed to idiocy. I’m ruined! Don‘t you see Nellie, I‘m ruined! They‘re going to mail me to Ratigan and I can just see the smug grin on his face now as he opens the package and I‘ll be so humiliated--”

“Snap out of it Basil!“ Nellie scolded, “I don’t want to hear you talking like that. This wasn’t your fault. We got captured trying to rescue someone. We were doing the right thing.”

“So you’re blaming this on the boy?”

“I’m not blaming anyone. Fievel’s too young to understand, and anyway listen to him, we can‘t go about pinning blame on him. He‘s suffering enough.”

The poor child was sobbing into his arms miserably, quite certain that he was never going to see his family again.

“I’d rather like to join him at this moment,” Basil heaved a depressed sigh.

“Do you want me to give the lock a try? You said you almost had it,” Nellie offered.

“No Nellie, the mechanisms inside that lock would break any mouse’s tail. We’re trapped,” Basil said hopelessly.

Nellie put an arm around Basil’s shoulder.

“Don’t lose hope Basil,” she said quietly, leaning her cheek onto his shoulder, “There’s always a way, as long as one can think…”

Basil turned his gaze to her, lightly wrapping an arm around her lower back. 

“And only fools are fearless.”

They then heard footsteps coming into the room. Jake had been getting sleepy, and another cat offered to take his place.

“It’s the big orange cat,” Basil whispered.

“Maybe we can outsmart him somehow. He never seemed as bright as the rest to me.” 

After trying to intimidate them, Tiger noticed Fievel’s sobbing. He walked up to Fievel’s cage, and asked what was the matter. Fievel sadly told Tiger he lost his family. Ever sympathetic, Tiger began to cry as well, explaining how he’d lost his family too. Basil and Nellie exchanged astonished glances.

“He might just be our ticket out of here,” Nellie whispered as they watched Tiger and Fievel bond.

“I must say in all my years, I never once observed a cat quite that friendly,” Basil admitted, “I do believe he’s affiliated with our Miss Kitty friend from the night club, perhaps we should remind him of that.”

After comparing their favorite books and favorite flavors of ice cream, Tiger began to break into song, singing to Fievel as he promptly let the boy out of his cage so that they could do a song and dance number together. Basil and Nellie looked on with fascination.

“He’s…he’s letting the child out of the cage…so they can sing a song?”

“Nice tune, I’ll have to remember it,” Nellie said.

“How is he even…did he rehearse this beforehand? Is it just a song he knew by heart already?” 

“You mean you never break out in song?” Nellie asked curiously.

“Spontaneously break out in song? Why, what would I have to gain from singing? It is a foolish activity when there are more important things to do, like escaping this cage.” 

“If you don’t lend a hand, when a hand needs lending, who will?” Nellie sang.

She looked to Basil, expecting him to know the next line of the song. He merely stared at her blankly, silent for a few moments.

“It must be an American thing,” Basil rolled his eyes.

“So is having fun, apparently,” Nellie retorted.

Having heard quite enough, Basil whistled to get Tiger’s attention just as they were finishing up their song. 

Tiger looked over, suddenly remembering the other cage. “Oh uh, I forgot about the other prisoners…”

“You should let them out too Tiger. They’re nice,” Fievel said, before looking at Basil, “Well, mostly nice.” 

“Ya know what, I think I will,” Tiger said, taking his key out, “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine. I’m through listening to Warren, he’s pushed me around long enough.”

“Miss Kitty would be very proud of you,” said Nellie with a smile.

“Sh-she would? Wait, how do you know her? And uh, how do you know that I know her?”

“We met Miss Kitty a couple of nights ago at the nightclub when we were investigating the case of the stolen artifacts that Warren purchased from Ratigan. And we were spying from above when you were there.” 

“Oh…well uh, since you‘re friends with both her and Fievel, I should really let you guys out,” Tiger said, bending down and trying to fit the key into the lock. Finally, Tiger was able to turn the key, unlocking the door. As soon as the door unlocked, however, an alarm sounded. 

“Confound it. Fievel, let’s run and get a head start. The cats will be after us soon.” Basil said as he jumped out of the cage, followed by Nellie. 

Digit was the first one to answer the alarm, fluttering after Fievel and catching his shirt, but losing grip. Basil and Nellie ran for it, following Fievel out and back into the tunnels. Nellie and Basil scurried up a ladder and out of a manhole, darting after the younger and quicker Fievel, who scurried down the street before making a right turn.

“Running anywhere in particular, Mr. Mousenwich?” Basil asked as they ran down the empty streets, sometime after 5am.

“The pier! We gotta warn everyone that Warren’s a cat,” Fievel answered, “We gotta get the cats to the pier so we can use the secret weapon on them!”

“Secret weapon?” Nellie pondered.

“A development at that rally, perhaps?” Basil asked.

“We sure have missed out on a lot.” Nellie said, huffing as she ran along.

“Yes, you’d think we’ve been underground this whole time or something,” Basil remarked.

They could hear the gang of cats behind them. They only had to hope they were faster runners and had a big enough head start. Fievel seemed to know the way there, and the two of them followed the child down streets and through alleys until coming upon the pier, lined on either side with trash before the Digitalis Museum of the Strange and Bizarre. They scurried past the piles of trash, and into a small hole at the bottom of the wooden double doors to the building.

Basil and Nellie took a moment to gaze up at the awe-inspiring structure standing just behind the doors.

“Did…did they build that thing?” Nellie asked.

“It seems to be some sort of mechanical monster,” Basil remarked, “Such ingenuity…what could their plan be I wonder?”

“We should follow Fievel,” said Nellie, “Someone will tell us what’s going on here.”

“Right, very well then,” Basil said, running ahead.

Fievel’s yells were causing the sleeping mice to stir, and soon enough, a kazoo sounded.

“Gussie Mausheimer is that you up there?” Nellie asked.

She looked down, “Oh Newwie Bwie, it’s you! Vhat’s going on, why are ze cats here so soon?!”

“Partly our fault I’m afraid,” answered Basil.

The kazoo sounded again, and mice around the building began to stir. 

“We have a pwan to deal with ze’s cats, but it depends on zem being in fwont of zis building when ze boat whistle blows. We will need to stall zem!”

Basil stroked his chin, looking back at the enormous animatronic creature they’d constructed. Already he could deduce what their plan was. If the cats were dumb enough to fall for it, which it was very likely they were, the plan would be a success. 

Police officers began making their rounds, waking mice up and instructing them to gather on the roof of the building, and to bring things they could throw.

“Come Nellie, the game’s afoot. Let us follow the other mice up to the roof, I daresay things are about to get fairly interesting.” 

“This might just be the scoop of the century, and I‘m right here to witness it!” Nellie said excitedly, as the two of them followed the other mice upstairs and through a window.

17

The mice of New York gathered in a crowd above the museum as below, Warren’s gang of marauding cats stood menacingly, carrying wooden clubs and licking their teeth hungrily. In front of them stood Warren, still in his night gown but having had time to put his rat disguise back on. Basil frowned. Why did anyone fall for that thing? Fievel stood near Gussie, Nellie and Basil. While coming up to the roof he’d found Tony Toponi as well, though he and Bridget had gotten separated in the crowd.

“What’s all this then? Was I not invited to da slumber party?” Warren asked.

“What do you want, you wat?” Gussie asked. Fievel protested, claiming Warren was a cat.

“It’s true, we saw him with our own eyes!” Basil said, pointing an accusing finger at Warren, “He is clearly too big to be a rat, he lacks the buck teeth, his nose is all wrong, and the ears are prosthetic.”

“I had my doubts at first Gussie, but I saw it too,” Nellie vouched, “We watched him take his disguise off when we found his lair, filled with the missing artifacts from the British museum. Basil’s absolutely right.” 

Warren scowled, “Pay no attention to the detective. Just hand over the kid, the detective, and the reporter Nellie Brie. And I’ll convince these cats to leave you be.”

“It’s zere word against yours Wawwen, and I think Basil and Newwie are more twustworthy zan you, what do you all think?”

Tony promptly shot his fake nose off, and when Warren tried to explain, he shot the fake ears off as well, revealing his pointed cat ears.

“There, now do you believe us?” Basil asked.

The crowd wasn’t buying Warren‘s excuses. They began to hurl things at Warren. Nellie gave a satisfied grin. Finally, they were going to stand up to that robber baron.

After an angry exchange with Gussie, Nellie and Basil watched as Warren walked toward the building.

“He’s planning something…” Basil said.

Warren chuckled and took out a match, striking it on his teeth. He set a nearby box of cotton ablaze, and the fire quickly spread. The mice above panicked.

“It’s just what he did to the old orphanage. I knew he was behind that,” Nellie said.

“Our only way out is to open those doors in front so everyone can escape,” Basil said, before gazing up at the slowly brightening sky, “We should be able to do that right about…now.”

The whistle on the Star of Hong Kong blew. It was 6am. However; the process was stalled, as they’d already been working to restrain the machine after almost setting it off early.

“Should we be downstairs?” Nellie asked, “What about the fire?”

“I’m not sure,” said Basil, “Perhaps we should take Fievel and go down to--”

Basil looked around the crowd of fleeing mice. Fievel was nowhere to be found.

“I really hate it when he does that,” Basil said irritably, “We are going to buy a leash for that boy, Nellie.”

“He’s enough to elude even England’s greatest mouse detective,” Nellie remarked.

“I wouldn’t go that far. He must have gone downstairs with most of the others. Let’s see if we can’t spot him somewhere.”

Taking Nellie’s hand the two of them pushed their way through the crowd and back into the building. The fire was beginning to spread as mice worked hard to try and cut the ropes and undo the knots that were holding the machine back. A few mice walked by with some large scissors. 

“Hey you two, give us a hand won’t you?” a mouse asked.

Basil looked to Nellie, “I suppose we ought to help. We’ll find Fievel once this is all said and done.”

Taking opposite sides, Basil and Nellie plus two other mice worked to slice through the thick rope. Their progress was slow, however.

Nellie and Basil strained and put all their muscle into pushing the scissors. However, another rope gave way, and the machine lurched forward, pulling the rope they were trying to cut along with it and knocking the scissors out of their hands. A loud roar rumbled from the mechanical beast as it pushed against the wooden double doors.

“By jove, that thing is terrifying,” Basil said in awe.

Soon it burst through the doors, as Warren’s gang stood dumbfounded. Basil and Nellie scurried toward the door as the machine rolled forward. 

“The Giant Mouse of Minsk…aha, yes, old Russian-Jewish folktale,” Basil said knowingly, “Now that makes sense. I wonder where they came up with an idea like that.”

“How many Russian Jews do you know?” Nellie asked, having already guessed whose idea it was.

The Giant Mouse of Minsk careened forward, as mice shot firecrackers at any of the cats who strayed off course. They were driven off the edge of the dock. Once the coast was clear Basil and Nellie followed the other mice to the end of the pier. A great cheer arose from the crowd, along with a chorus of “There Are No Cats in America”.

“They do realize those weren’t the only cats in America, don‘t they?”

“Oh hush and let them have their celebration, Basil,” Nellie said, “So much for putting Warren in jail though.”

“He’s headed for Hong Kong by the looks of things. I think karma will have its way with him there,” Basil said with amusement.

“Oh? By that do you mean he’s probably going to end up on someone’s chow mein plate?” 

“Precisely.” Basil said with a smirk, “At any rate, I’d say that very abruptly wraps up this case.”

They then overheard Honest John proclaim “We owe it all to Filly Mousekewitz, and his Giant Mouse of Minsk!”

“With just one loose end…” Nellie said, casting a gaze at Basil.

Basil pondered for a moment, before giving a sigh, “Oh  very well. Let’s try to find Fievel’s family.”

“As soon as we find Fievel that is,” Nellie said, looking around for wherever the boy had gone off to. 

“If he’d been in the crowd someone would have lifted him up or something like that when they were doing their cheer. Let’s see if he’s wandering around here somewhere.”

Nellie and Basil walked back toward the museum, away from the crowd. As they walked, Basil sniffed the air.

“What is it?” Nellie asked.

“It smells like…” he sniffed again, “…kerosene.”

The ground was damp with leaked kerosene from the garbage piles on the pier. And lingering embers from Warren’s fire earlier were just beginning to creep toward it. Basil took Nellie’s hand suddenly and darted back down the pier, nearly pulling her off her feet. But moments later, the fire spread across the very ground they’d been standing on.

“Oh my…the museum!” Nellie exclaimed, as flames began to climb up its walls.

The crowd of mice began to panic and disperse as the inferno grew and roared.

“Basil, what if Fievel’s still in there?”

“Let’s hope he isn’t,” Basil said, staring at the building, “I don’t know how we’d be able to get in there…”

“Filly!!” came a yell nearby.

Basil turned his head as crowds of mice streamed by, seeing two familiar mice forcing their way against the motion of the crowd.

“Mr. Toponi, was it? Over here!” Basil waved his arms to gain their attention.

Tony turned, seeing Basil and Nellie, and ran toward them, Bridget following behind.

“Hey ya seen Filly anywhere? I lost track of him!”

“You mean Fievel?” Basil asked.

“Yeah him,” Tony answered. 

“We lost him too,” said Nellie, “Why don’t we search together?”

“He just betta not be in dat building…” Tony said, his voice full of worry, cracks appearing in is normally macho demeanor.

The four of them pushed against the crowds and searched around for several minutes, looking for any clue they could find of the lost child, calling for both ‘Filly’ and ‘Fievel’, and occasionally ‘Fievel Mousenwrench’ or some variant from Basil. Soon the sound of sirens pierced through the air as mice scurried away from a barrage of horse hooves. Human firefighters had arrived on the scene with fire hoses.

“Look out! Don’t get washed away!” Tony called out as water sprayed in their direction. 

The four of them darted the other way, taking refuge under the wagon until they could plan their next move. Tony hadn’t stopped calling for Filly.

Bridget’s eyes scanned the area, before suddenly stopping on a very important clue.

“It’s his hat!” she said, bending down to pick it up.

“If I may, Bridget,” Basil asked, holding his hand out, before she handed the hat to him. 

“He must be around here somewhere,” Nellie said.

“The hat is rather wet, it could have washed in this direction from anywhere after the humans started spraying the hoses,” Basil said, handing it back to Bridget, “And we don’t know when he lost his hat either.”

“Let’s keep searchin’ then,” Tony said as he scurried from beneath the wagon. The others followed him.

“Perhaps he had the presence of mind to flee with the crowd,” Basil suggested, as they made their way toward a gutter, with a storm drain in the side of it. 

“Maybe he’s in here…” Tony said, and the four of them climbed through the metal grating. 

“Excuse me, you were calling for a ‘Filly’ Mousekewitz?”

Everyone turned around, seeing a large, bearded mouse and a little girl in a dress enter after them, followed soon by a middle-aged woman. The girl apparently wanted to know if they meant “Fievel” when they called for Filly Mousekewitz.

Basil and Nellie exchanged glances. Could it be? 

“Aha…well now, Mr. Mousenwich-“

“Mousekewitz,” Nellie corrected.

“Whatever--you wouldn’t happen to be missing someone who goes by the name of Fievel, eh? About as tall as my knee? Wears a big blue hat and loves to disappear on you all the time, thinks every violin in the world is being played by his Papa?” 

“It is Fievel! I knew it!” Tanya said, her eyes lighting up.

But Papa Mousekewitz still expressed doubt, until Bridget presented Mama with Fievel’s hat.

Papa was speechless, “Oh…oh my Lord…”

“See? I knew it! He’s alive! Nobody ever listens to me,” Tanya said, folding her arms.

“All right then Basil, we’ve got one half of this mystery solved,” Nellie said with a smirk, “Now we’ve just got to find Fievel.” 

“The rest will be quite elementary, I assure you,” Basil said.

18

“So you say our son has been searching for us, all this time?” Papa still couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I first met him in a sweat shop,” Tony replied, “He’s da one who helped bust me outta there. I figured I owed him one. Me and Bridget have been takin’ care of him since then, we was lookin’ all over for you.”

“And how did you two meet him?” Papa asked Basil and Nellie.

“I first met the boy when he wandered into my room, led there by my violin. Nellie and I have been having chance encounters with the boy ever since, most recently when we went to find Warren’s lair.” 

“We wanted to help reunite him with you as soon as we were done with our case, which we are now,” Nellie added.

“And vhen did you last see Fievel?”

“He was right with us when we was facin’ off wit’ Warren. And he musta ran off around when Warren set off dat fire,” Tony answered.

“That was the last time I saw him too,” Basil concurred.

“We were inside the Mouse of Minsk then,” said Tanya.

“But the museum is on fire…you don’t think Fievel could still be,” Mama wore a worried expression.

“When we found his hat it was well outside of the museum,” Basil assured her, “I think he escaped the inferno. As soon as those humans are done hosing it down I could go back to look for clues.”

“Have you done zis kind of thing before?” Papa asked.

“Oh of course, dear sir. I am Basil of Baker Street, England’s premier mouse detective,” he said, straightening his coat and wearing a proud expression.

“H-hey, could I help?” came a voice from outside.

Everyone turned, seeing Tiger the cat peering at them from outside. Everyone but Nellie and Basil screamed.

“Hey don’t run! I-I I’m not like those other cats! I’m friendly! Fievel’s my buddy!” 

“Don’t be afraid of him, he helped free us from Warren,” Nellie assured everyone.

“But…he’s a cat,” Papa said fearfully.

“Yeah, and a big one!” added Tony.

“I can’t help it, I was born a cat,” Tiger said, “But I never eat mice.”

“You’re wearin’ one o’ those t-shirts from Warren’s gang,” Bridget pointed out accusingly, “Ya didn’t make it on the ship?”

“Warren fired me from his gang just before he uh, went on his little cruise,” Tiger said sheepishly, “I came down here to find Fievel and help him, but I didn’t know all this would happen.”

“What I wanna know is if you’re supposedly so nice what was ya doin’ hangin’ around with Warren to begin wit’?” Tony asked, folding his arms.

“I fell in with the wrong crowd, honest. I was always an alley cat. It’s rough living in the streets. Especially if you’re a cat who isn’t fond of red meat. If you weren’t with the Mott Street Maulers then you were against them, and they saw that I was big so they took me in and used me as their muscle, but I hated doing such horrible things, like threatening mice for money…I was just…too cowardly to say no.”

“Until tonight,” Nellie added, “You went against orders and you rescued Fievel, and then Basil and I. You turned your whole life around. From now on you’re going to be good, and you’ll start by helping us find Fievel, won’t you?”

Tiger nodded with pleading eyes.

“Well then, I trust him,” Basil said, “How about all of you?”

“Yeah well, I don’t make a habit outta befriendin’ cats but, eh I guess we could use da help,” Tony conceded.

“A friendly cat? Vhat else could ve find in zis strange country?” Papa said.

Tanya giggled and walked up to Tiger, “I’m Fievel’s sister, Tanya.”

“Nice to meet you! You do look like him. I’m so glad we’ve got his family right here,” Tiger said, as they all walked out of the storm drain.

“It looks like the humans have stopped the flames. Perhaps we ought to search for clues at the museum,” said Basil.

“He better not still be zere…” Mama said worriedly. 

“Hopefully he isn’t,“ Basil said, grabbing onto Tiger’s fur and climbing him, “But maybe we’ll find footprints, or some other clue that will lead us in the right direction.” 

“We’re gonna ride him now?” Tony asked.

“Easy transportation. I ride a dog all the time back in London,” Basil said.

“Guess you’re callin’ da shots, detective,” Tony said as he climbed on too, and the rest of the mice climbed onto Tiger’s back, with Nellie behind Basil.

“Alright then, to the museum,” Tiger said, proud that he’d been able to convince the mice that he was their friend.

The museum was charred and in ruins after the fire had been put out. Human policemen were at the scene, attempting to figure out just what had caused the blaze. Most of them were dumbfounded by the piles of trash on the pier, which hadn’t been there earlier. But of course, none of them would ever figure out just what had happened. Nor did any of them seem to notice a big orange cat in a t-shirt carrying several clothed mice on his back. 

Sifting through the debris, Basil and Nellie weren’t able to find much when it came to Fievel’s whereabouts, until Basil came about some footprints in silt left behind from the water hoses which seemed like they might have been made by a young boy. There’d been hundreds of mice at the scene, but most of them had not been near the museum once it erupted in flames; so this was the closest thing to a clue about Fievel that they had. At least, it was the only clue that pointed to his surviving the fire. Luckily, they didn’t come across any charred bodies, thus, Basil concluded, it was best to assume that the boy lived, much to the relief of his parents.

“So…vhat do ve do now?” Papa asked, disappointed that they were no closer to finding Fievel than before.

“Hm, what indeed,” Basil paced back and forth in front of Tiger, looking down at the tiny three-toed footprints, “The boy could be anywhere in the city.”

“Maybe I’ll find Gussie Mausheimer or Honest John, and ask them if they know where Fievel went, or if they can help us find him,” Bridget suggested.

“Good idea Bridget, we need all the help we can get,” Nellie said, “And I think they owe Fievel this much.” 

“Yes, you go ahead and do that. As for us Nellie, I think we’ll need to stop by the apartment again. I have something I need to fetch.” 

“Oh? What’s so important that we need to go all the way back there for it?” Nellie asked.

“I need to fetch my violin,” Basil said.

“Your violin? What would you need that for?” Nellie asked, scratching her head.

“The plan is simple. If Fievel chases after every violin in New York, thinking it’s his father, well then with two of us playing we’ll double our chances of finding him.”

“Basil that idea is perfect!” Tanya said happily, turning to her father, “Papa, you could teach Basil Fievel’s song!”

“He has a song?” Basil asked.

“Yes, it’s a song I composed especially for him, if he hears it he’ll know it’s me,” Papa said, “Ve don’t have any time to lose, ve need to go home to get my violin too.”

“Very well then, we’ll split up and get our violins, and meet back at Tammany Hall where we’ll present our case to Gussie Mausheimer or Honest John. And perhaps if you’ve written sheet music for Fievel’s melody, you can give that to me.” 

“I can write it vhile ve’re there.” Papa offered.

“Good. Come Nellie, let us get this plan underway. The sooner the better.”

-------------------------

As the day wore on, and faded into evening and night, storm clouds rolled over New York, thundering overhead and bringing with them heavy rains. Yet this did not deter the intrepid search party. Gussie had been so moved by Fievel’s tale that she opted to join the search, riding on back of the misfit feline Tiger along with Fievel’s family, and Tony and Bridget. The group went down every street and alley in the city, Papa playing Fievel’s song all the way, hoping to draw him out of hiding.

Meanwhile, Nellie and Basil were doing the same, but on their own, hoping to cover more ground. The two parties were to meet back at Tammany Hall in the morning, to see if either of them had had any luck. Nellie wore a rain jacket and held an umbrella over Basil as he played his violin. She also kept the sheet music Papa had hastily written down for Basil. It had taken Basil a little while to master the song fully, but he eventually got the hang of the melancholy little Russian tune.

“What a horrible night to be lost in the big city,” Nellie sighed, rain pelting the umbrella as Basil played, “Fievel must be so frightened.”

“Let’s hope he’s still listening for his father,” Basil said, “I must confess, it is somewhat alarming that we haven’t found him yet. It never took him this long to appear before when there was a violin playing. And now we’re actually playing his song.”

“I wonder if the others have had any luck,” Nellie said.

“I suppose we won’t know until morning,” Basil said with a yawn, “Confound that child. Just how many more nights of sleep do I have to lose over this case?”

“We have to keep searching. I just feel sorry for any child outside on a night like this.” 

As they turned to go down another alley, Basil blinked and yawned again, feeling bags under his eyes. His hands ached after playing for so long, his neck ached from keeping the violin beneath his chin. 

“You do look like you could use a little rest, Basil,” Nellie said.

“Me? Oh no…I’m fine…” Basil uttered with a groan.

Nellie smirked and led him over to a small hay pile, protected from the rain by a plank of wood hanging over a box.

“We’ll rest for just a little while.” Nellie said, folding her umbrella and sitting down, patting the spot next to her, “Besides, you’re starting to squeak some of those notes. If you get any more exhausted Fievel will think you’re Warren and he’ll run away.”

Basil collapsed on his back in the hay, sending hay floating in the air. Nellie brushed it out of her face.

“I’ll be lucky if I don’t get carpal tunnel syndrome after tonight,” Basil said drowsily, putting his violin aside as his muscles ached.

“We’ll rest for say, half an hour, hm?” Nellie suggested, “Just think about how cold, wet and lonesome Fievel must be right now. We can’t afford to waste too much time.”

“What about how cold, wet, and tired I am?” Basil groaned.

Nellie stroked his cheek some, “At least you’re not lonesome.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right on that count,” Basil said with a small grin.

Nellie laid back on the hay beside him.

“I’ve had as little sleep as you, you know. I‘ve just been trying not to think about how tired I am.” 

“I know that, Nellie.”

She gently scooted closer, curling up against him and resting her head against his chest.

“We’ll just…rest for a little while,” she said with a yawn.

Basil wrapped an arm around her, “Indeed, Nellie. We’ll be far more alert if we rest up a bit.”

Nellie giggled sleepily, bringing her face up and sneaking a small peck on Basil’s lips, before cuddling against him again. Basil’s eyes widened and he blinked. But Nellie was just laying there with her eyes closed as if nothing happened, a mischievous smile on her face. 

“Steal a kiss from a detective, will you? I always catch my criminals, down to the pettiest of thieves.”

“I think I’ll just turn myself in then, no use trying to get away with that,” Nellie murmured with her eyes closed, “Of course, you could always steal the kiss back.”

“Very well then, prisoner. I believe I will,” Basil lifted her chin up gently, and kissed her. 

Nellie giggled after the kiss, her cheeks going pink as she nuzzled into Basil‘s chest, and they rested together in the soft pile of hay as the rain pelted against the wooden plank above them, keeping them dry. Unfortunately, they became so comfortable that they slipped into a peaceful slumber shortly thereafter, succumbing to almost two full nights without any sleep.

19

“Basil, Basil wake up!” Nellie said, shaking Basil gently. 

“Ugh…oh, we…we fell asleep?” Basil said, blinking and rubbing his head. 

He looked up at the sky, the dark blue tinge of early dawn reflected on the clouds. The rain was letting up.

“Far longer than we were supposed to. It’s almost morning,” Nellie said, with remorse.

“And not long enough to cure my drowsiness either,” Basil groaned, grabbing his violin, “We might as well take advantage of what time we have, before heading back to Tammany Hall.”

“I know we still haven’t looked everywhere,” Nellie said, unfolding her umbrella and holding her hand out to help Basil to his feet, “We’re just too comfortable together for our own good.”

Basil smirked, brushing hay off his coat, “We can’t let that get in the way of work. At least, not to excess, right?”

“Right, Basil,” Nellie answered with a smile, “Let’s go.”

The two of them made their way down the wet alley, Basil placing the violin beneath his chin again and playing Fievel’s song.

“Where should we go next?” Basil asked.

“I don’t know, wherever there may be enough shelter from the rain,” Nellie said, “We might look someplace where there are a lot of homeless mice.”

“Are there many homeless encampments in New York?” Basil asked.

“There are a few,” Nellie said with regret, “Terrible places to be on a rainy night, that’s for sure.”

“Especially for a child, alone,” Basil said, as they wandered through the streets and alleys. 

“I’m going to lead us to one in particular,” said Nellie, taking the lead, “It’s a big one, but we might have some luck.” 

As they turned a corner, they came face to face with just what they’d been discussing.

“It looks like Fievel’s not the only child out there either,” Nellie remarked, as they beheld the sight before them. 

They’d stumbled into a massive camp of young orphaned mice, huddled beneath cardboard boxes or anything they could use as shelter. The area was wide open, and it looked as if perhaps there’d been a building there once.

“It’s Orphan Alley. The saddest place in the city,” Nellie said softly, “So many broken dreams here.”

“As good a place as any to find Fievel,” Basil said.

Basil continued to play loudly as he walked through the encampment, much to the annoyance of some of the orphans who were trying to get some sleep. 

“I should do an article on this place,” Nellie said, looking around in disgust and pity, “There’s no excuse for so many innocent young mice to be living in such squalor.”

“I do believe there was a building here once, yes?” Basil asked as he looked around, noticing that it seemed more like a vacant lot than an alley, and seeing the telltale signs of the foundations of a building.

“Oh, that’s right. There was an orphanage here once, but, well, they failed to pay Warren’s protection money. The next day, there was a ‘mysterious’ fire. Too bad for the human orphans too.” 

“It’s a good thing we got rid of him,” Basil said, as they made their way through the vacant lot, Basil’s violin echoing across the alley for the next several minutes. The light was increasing as dawn broke. Nellie was finally able to fold her umbrella up as the rain stopped. But, still they had no luck finding Fievel.

“I don’t know if he’s even here,” Nellie said, “He’d have heard us by now.”

“Let’s head to the far corner and we’ll move on,” Basil suggested, as they walked toward a broken window pane in the distance, playing Fievel’s song all the while.

“I can’t stand to be in this depressing place much longer,” Nellie sighed, “I’m going to make sure something’s done about this slum--Basil!”

“Hmm?” Basil asked nonchalantly, looking over at Nellie.

“Basil…beneath that window pane. I…I think I see something.”

Basil blinked and squinted at the spot.

“Aha…Nellie, this way.”

He played his violin louder as they walked toward what appeared to be a figure curled up in a puddle, wearing a red sweatshirt. His ears perked up, catching the melody Basil was playing, and slowly, he lifted his head and looked toward them.

“Papa…?”

“Fievel!” Nellie called out, “Fievel we found you!”

Nellie and Basil ran toward him. But, the boy simply curled back up again.

“Fievel, we’ve been looking all night for you! You’ll never guess who we found,” Nellie said enthusiastically, kneeling down toward him, “Why are you sleeping here anyway? You’re not an orphan.”

“Yes I am,” he whispered.

Basil and Nellie looked to each other. 

“Don’t be preposterous, boy,” Basil said, “Didn’t you recognize the tune I was just playing on my violin? How do you think I knew that tune?”

Fievel was quiet, “I’ll never see them again…never…”

Fievel sniffled and buried his face in his sleeves. Nellie nearly felt like crying for him.

“Fievel. Get up out of that puddle before you catch cold,” Nellie said, stroking his head gently, “Let Basil and I take you to Tammany Hall. We have a big surprise waiting for you.” 

“Go away…” Fievel said softly, his voice cracking.

“Now you see here child, I’ve had just about enough of this foolish--”

Nellie put her finger to her lips to silence Basil. Basil stopped, and exhaled irritably. 

“My family doesn’t wanna find me…” Fievel said.

“Now where’d you get such an idea?” Nellie asked.

Fievel pointed over at the three boys nearby, sleeping on hay. Obviously they hadn’t shared the spot with Fievel. Basil recognized two of them from the sweatshop he’d liberated. 

“Don’t listen to them, Fievel,” Nellie said, “They may have lost hope but that doesn’t mean you have to.”

Fievel didn’t answer. Basil felt like just picking him up and dragging him there, but he had a feeling he better let Nellie handle the situation.

“Come on Fievel. Please? You won’t be sorry,” Nellie said, rubbing Fievel’s back.

Fievel sniffled, seeming to fight back tears. But then, his ears perked up.

“S-stop playing that violin,” he said shakily, “It’s not my papa…you’re not my papa…”

“What? I’m not playing any…wait.”

Basil’s ears perked up too. In the distance, they could hear another violin playing Fievel’s song. Fievel looked up at Basil, seeing that he wasn’t the one playing it. Fievel got up slowly, and staggered toward the direction of the violin. Soon they could also hear voices, calling his name. 

“Papa…” Fievel mouthed, barely audible.

“They’re here.” Nellie said with a bright smile, standing up.

Basil gave a grin too, “Let’s follow the little chap, shall we?”

“Papa!!” Fievel called out, as the two of them kept up, keeping a distance but not letting him out of their sight.

The playing stopped, and they heard the voice of Fievel’s father, calling out his name. Nellie and Basil had to pick up the pace to keep up with Fievel now who was darting among the discarded trash and splashing through puddles. Until finally, at long last, Fievel and his Papa caught sight of each other, and Fievel jumped into his arms.

Nellie dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief from her pocket, as Basil looked on with a smile. Fievel’s family and friends soon filtered through the surrounding debris. Though with the warm morning sunlight filtering in through the scene, it was easy to forget this tearful reunion was taking place in a dirty alley. 

Nellie hugged Basil tight and wiped her joyful tears on his chest, as he hugged her back, still holding his violin.

“Another case closed, hm?” Nellie said, looking up at him with a smile.

“Indeed, Nellie. I couldn’t have asked for a better assistant either,” he said warmly, “I’ll have to remember to thank Honest John for that wonderful body guard he loaned me.”

Nellie chuckled, and brought Basil down for a long, loving kiss. After breaking the kiss, they gazed into one another’s eyes lovingly. Falling in love had been the last thing either of them expected when they took this case on, but with the aid of a lost little boy, it seemed fate had other plans.

Fievel and his family approached the two of them, Fievel clinging to his father’s hand tightly as if he could lose them again at any second. He was now wearing his hat once again, proudly lifting it with his ears so that it fit.

“Basil and Nellie, I vant to thank you for bringing my son back to me,” Papa said.

“Oh, you would have found first him if we hadn’t,” Basil said modestly, “We really had just found him ourselves.”

“Even so Mr. Basil, for all your help, I vant to give you this,” 

Papa presented Basil with his violin. Nellie, grinned, taking Basil’s violin from his hands as Basil took Papa’s.

“Oh…why thank you good sir.” Basil said, examining it, “Hm yes, very fine craftsmanship.”

“It is one of my finest violins. I make zem for a living you know. It’s a genuine Mousekewitz violin.” 

“Thank you, Basil and Nellie, for trying to save me from Warren, and then helping to find me,” Fievel said.

“Any time Fievel,” Nellie said with a giggle.

“Yes, now you stay close to your parents from now on, won’t you? I don’t want to have to be called on the case to find you again,” Basil said.

Fievel smiled, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying close to my family from now on. I‘ll never ever wander off by myself again, I promise.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to forget that promise by tomorrow?” Tanya asked.

-------------------------

“Check the sewers beneath Mott Street for the missing artifacts stolen from the British Museum, signed Basil of Baker Street and Nellie Brie?” a human police chief exclaimed when he read the note left on his desk the next morning as he came in for work, “What is this, some kinda gag?”

“I dunno Chief, I read about those robberies in the paper,” said another cop, “No one knows who did it or where the artifacts went. Might be worth checking out.” 

“Nellie Brie…you don’t think they mean Nellie Bly the newspaper reporter do you?” the Chief asked.

“Probably some kind of anonymous tip-off, signed with an alias.” 

“What I wanna know is how they got in here overnight. The place was all locked up,” the chief took his hat off, and scratched his head.

“I dunno, maybe they came in through the rat holes in the floorboards,” the cop joked.

“Heh heh, yeah that’s a good one. Come on, let’s get someone to look into this,” said the police chief.

Little did they know, two pairs of tiny eyes were spying on them from one of those very rat holes the cop joked about.

“And that officially wraps up this case,” Basil said proudly, folding his arms.

“It was all very elementary, of course,” Nellie said with a grin, “So, what’s next for London’s greatest mouse detective, hm?”

Basil stroked his chin, “You know, now that I think about it,a vacation doesn’t seem so bad.”

“Vacation? You?” Nellie chuckled, “Are you the real Basil?”

“I normally don’t have time for such extravagances with criminals lurking about, but I think I could at least afford, maybe a week…or two.”

“Better hope Ratigan doesn’t take the crown of England while you’re gone,” Nellie joked.

“Ha, like that could happen,” Basil rolled his eyes, “I know he’s out there though, and I will have to return to England.”

“I know, and there’s still work to be done in New York,” Nellie said, looking down.

“But…after I’ve done away with Ratigan…”

“…and after I feel like my work here is done…I’ll come to London,” Nellie promised, “And I’ll try to get a newspaper job there.”

“It could take years, you know,” Basil said, putting his hands on her shoulders, “Is a neurotic, antisocial, obsessive compulsive detective really worth waiting for?”

“Of course. Because I’m the only one in the world who could put up with you, and you’re the only one in the world who could put up with me,” Nellie said with a smile, “We’ll be absolutely miserable together, I hope you know that.”

“And I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Basil replied. 

“We’ll get plenty of practice these next two weeks,” Nellie said, wrapping her arms around him, “Come on Basil, let’s head back to the apartment and get started.”

She reached up and gave him a kiss as they embraced one another, and then, with an arm around one another, the detective and the reporter headed down the tunnel and out of the building, anticipating the much-deserved time off together.

The End