6. The Wabbit and the Speaker List

The Wabbit met Lapinette at Lingotto. For security reasons they met in the children's section since there was never many people there. "What have you discovered, Wabbit?" breathed Lapinette. "Quite a lot," he replied. He was still clutching the guest book and he waved it. "I believe the answer is in here," He gave the book to Lapinette, who leafed quickly through the pages. "Have you ever heard of Bunk MacBatfit?" Lapinette shook her head.  "Can't say I have." The Wabbit paused. "Bunk is an authority on Flights for Small Mammals - but he likes to be first," Lapinette looked blank. The Wabbit's voice was harsh. "He likes to be first in everything he does." He paused. "Have a look at the speaker list." Lapinette read the first few pages. "He's not there." The Wabbit continued. "He's on the guest list but he's not speaking," Lapinette gasped. "He must be furious." "Furious enough to kill," said the Wabbit. Lapinette rocked backwards. "He'd kill to be first to speak!"  The Wabbit nodded. "I have a plan. Do you have any sway with the organisers?" Lapinette nodded too. "Can you get me on to the speakers list to speak first," said the Wabbit. "You're going to be bait," said Lapinette. "I'm the master of bait," replied the Wabbit, "so leave the changes until the last minute." Lapinette was cautious. "I'd better get Skratch and Wabsworth onto this. They can pass as small mammals, can't they?" The Wabbit looked sceptical. "They have to look dull." Lapinette laughed. "Anything's possible."

5. The Wabbit and the Sudden Attack

The Wabbit took a short cut along the side of the market because he wasn't sure when the attack would come. He knew there would be one - but of its exact shape he had no clue. So it wasn't entirely unexpected when it happened. When he saw a red dot appear he shifted like a cheetah running from extinction. He swayed to the left and then to the right, just as a rabbit does. He heard a sharp crack but the bullet went wide and hit the sidewall of the market. There was no second shot. Clearly the attacker had expected an easy hit and had now vanished, Nevertheless, he dropped down on all fours and looked all round for the attacker, but there was no sign, Just the mark of the bullet on the aluminium plate. The guest book was on the ground so he picked it up, shot to the other side of the road and round the corner. Clearly, he was close to the murderer and the murderer wanted the book. He clutched it against his chest and then flicked it open again.  He ran his eyes over the names of the three murdered rabbits and tried to think. The wind rustled the leaves of the book and turned the pages. There on the fourth page was the name of the next speaker at the conference, It leaped out at him. He looked familiar. The Wabbit snapped the book shut and stealthily went on his way. He didn't think the perpetrator would make a second attempt so soon. He was too smart a mammal for that. All the same, the Wabbit thought reinforcements would be a good idea at this stage. Keeping a wary eye open he stuck close to the buildings in the shadows, and made his way across town,

4. The Wabbit and the Hotel's Guest List

The Wabbit made his way to the Hotel Plaza, which was in a part of town he didn't know well. He wanted to ask for the Guest List. He figured all the homicide victims were booked in one hotel and, as it happened, they were. He stood at the desk for a while. No-one came. "This is a fine to-do," he muttered. "I'm not coming here on holiday." He waited and waited. It was absolutely deserted with not a soul around. No waiter passed. No bellboy emerged. But the thing he was looking for was on the desk in front of him. He looked each way, then flicked it open. All the names were there and a few more beside. "Tsk tsk," said the Wabbit. Then in a stentorian tone, he announced his presence. "Commander Wabbit, Department of Wabbit Affairs." No-one emerged. "I'd like to borrow your guest list for the Conference on Flights for Small Mammals," he yelled. Silence. The Wabbit flicked through the contents once more and there was one thing that he found interesting. So he scribbled a receipt, and tucked the book under his fur. Then he hopped down the stairs and out of the building. He made his way to a caffè, where he took another look at the book. "I have to figure the murderer is here," he said to himself. There were a lot of names - experts on this and experts on that.  There were keynote speakers in great number. And there was to be a special welcome by the President of the Chamber of Commerce himself. "Why wasn't I invited?" asked the Wabbit. He mused for a while. The Wabbit disliked conferences intensely, but that didn't stop people inviting him. So he nodded to himself with an impish grin. "I have an idea."

3. The Wabbit and the Naked City

The Wabbit looked out over the city. He often came up here when he needed to think and this was such a time. Two bodies and no clues. Somewhere down there was the answer, but the answer was hiding. He watched buses and trams go about their everyday business and somehow he knew that the murderer was on one of them - going to the next murder probably. This was a headache and no amount of paracetamol would fix it. He mused over the facts. Three bodies made up to look like the agents of Rabit - one killed by hanging and stabbing and the two others were deliberate drownings. According to forensics, the killings were in the night. But a curious fact had come to light. All three were going to the same event, a debate on flight travel for small mammals. The function was to be over the next three days but these rabbits wouldn't make it. There were names on the on the guest list - a Mr A.N. Other, Mr. A. Attendee and a Mr A Newman - all no-shows. The Wabbit grimaced. He could see the venue from his spot on the Mole Tower. What connected them? An esoteric knowledge of small mammal behaviour on planes perhaps? The Wabbit shook his head and tried to think hard. He lifted his radio. "Calling Lovely Lapinette. Come in please." The radio whined and whistled. "Lovely Lapinette here!" The Wabbit thought for another second then, "What do we have on small mammals on planes?" Lovely Lapinette rustled some papers. "Quite a bit as it happens." "Go through the names," said the Wabbit, "and get me any authorities corresponding to initials ANO, AA and AN." Lapinette's voice was sceptical. "When would you like it?" "Yesterday!" smiled the Wabbit.

2. The Wabbit and the Second Strike

The Wabbit called in Wabsworth and a small forensics team. The team lurched towards their cars with the body, only dropping it twice. This was accompanied by a lot of shouting until the Wabbit looked a back and scowled. "It's a mystery all right," he said to Wabsworth. "He looks like an Agent of Rabit," said Wabsworth. The Wabbit shook his head. "I don't think he is." He told Wabsworth about the note. Wabsworth looked sceptical. "It could be a trick." The Wabbit shook his head again. "Just a feeling." "I don't like it," said Wabsworth, I don't like it one bit." He took out his automatic and rubbed the grip. "I'm expecting trouble and I'm going to be prepared." The Wabbit's radio crackled. It was Lovely Lapinette. "We found a body," she said. "Snap," said the Wabbit. "It looks like an Agent of Rabit," she continued. "So did ours," said the Wabbit. There was silence for a minute until the Wabbit asked, "Where did you find him?" Lapinette's voice was a shrug. "We found him drowned, half in and half out of the water." The Wabbit paused and glanced at Wabsworth, his eyes in the air. "Anything else?" "Yes," said Lapinette, "There was a note." The Wabbit heaved a sigh. "Let me guess. It said to expect more bodies." "No," said Lapinette, "it asked if we were keeping count." The radio crackled with another call. "This is Wabbit command," said a voice, "Someone's found a body." The Wabbit grimaced and switched to Lapinette. "Any advance on three?" he said.

1. The Wabbit and the Body at the Kiosk

The Wabbit was between adventures and at an early hour in the morning he was lazing around at the old abandoned kiosk. It was a deserted place now since the boats had long gone, destroyed in a summer storm. They had never been replaced. He kicked his heels and rummaged through his fur for something, anything to do. That was when he heard the splat. It was a soft kind of splat, nothing much. Then it became an insistent splosh. He looked down and saw blood. "Rio Bravo!" he exclaimed. He looked up and pulled out his automatic. A body toppled forward. Then it fell in slow motion to the ground. It seemed to take an age. The Wabbit looked at the crumpled heap. The crumpled heap was a very dead rabbit and it held a crumpled note. The Wabbit took a step backwards because he thought it might be a trap. But his curiosity overcame caution and he crept forward, automatic at the ready. He dislodged the note with his foot. If there was any message written on the note it was on the other side. He turned it over with the barrel of his gun to see what there was - and indeed there was one. There were only two words. "More coming." The Wabbit bent forward and looked at the body. "More of what?" he wondered, although he already knew. He searched the body for clues, but there were none. No ID, no personal items, no money, nothing. He leaned back against the fence and breathed a sigh. "More of this kind of trouble."

At the Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The four gathered at the Adventure Caffè. Skratch was late but arrived before things got going. "Hello," he purred, "I hope you haven't decided what's what." Lapinette shook her head. "Certainly not. Now that you're here you can say what kind of adventure the Wabbit and Wabsworth had." Skratch purred mightily. "First, let me say what a pleasure it was to see little in the way of Sphynxology and Pharoahnicity." Wabsworth nodded with vigour. "Can you say a little more about that, Skratch." Skratch was delighted. "Charon and his obol doesn't really figure much in Ancient Egypt. He was more a product of Greek mythology." The Wabbit chipped in. "What about he who faces behind him and to the front at the same time,' in the Pyramid texts." Lapinette wasn't going to be left out. "What about the boat that wasn't there?" Wabsworth knew what all this was about. "I call that myntle, but that's a translation from hieroglyphics and hard to pronounce." Skratch shook his head. "There are said to be three names for the celestial ferryman." The Wabbit was becoming bored. "Huey, Dewey and Louie?" Skratch laughed and gave up. "Yes," he said. "OK," said Lapinette, "We have to call for the ferryman!" Skratch was already standing and lifted a glass. "To the luminal area of ordeal!" "What's that?" said Wabsworth. "When are the drinks coming?" said the Wabbit.

[Skratch is indebted to "The Celestial Ferryman in Ancient Egyptian Religion - Sailor of the Dead" by Dr.Radwan Abdel-Rady Sayed Ahmed]