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so,’ said Terry. ‘I reckon it’s a polecat.’
    ‘So it is a cat,’ Tom said.
    ‘No, a polecat’s not a cat,’ said Terry. ‘In fact, it’s closely related to your pet ferret. There used to be hardly any left in the wild, but there are more and more these days. I didn’t realise they’d got as far south as London, but it seems they have.’
    ‘But why would a polecat be on Grandad’s allotment?’ asked Tom. ‘They don’t eat vegetables, do they?’
    ‘Definitely not. Look at these teeth again,’ said Terry. ‘A polecat is a pure predator. Its skull is only about four centimetres deep, so these teeth are huge compared to the size of its head. And feel, these canines are like knives.’
    Tom ran his finger over the cast and felt the two top canine teeth.
    ‘Like a tiger, a polecat uses its canines to deliver the killer blow at the base of its victim’s neck,’ said Terry. ‘And like a tiger, the sharpness of these teeth means that it can take on prey that is much bigger than itself. Rabbits, chickens, even geese. One bite and it’s over. And it can use its teeth more cleverly too.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Sophie asked.
    ‘If there’s lots of prey about,’ said Terry, ‘and it can’t possibly eat them all, it just paralyses them.’
    ‘How?’ Tom asked.
    ‘It bites into its victim’s brain, but not enough to kill it. Then it drags the body back to its den to eat later. But because it’s still technically alive, it stays fresh.’
    ‘That is brilliant,’ said Tom, impressed.
    ‘So it attacks everything and anything,’ said Sophie, ‘even when it’s not particularly hungry.’
    Terry nodded and glanced at the dental cast again.
    ‘And this one is young and healthy,’ said Terry. ‘No nicked or broken teeth, very little decay.’
    ‘Then it’s obvious what happened,’ said Sophie.
    ‘Is it?’ Violet and Tom said at the same time.
    ‘Well, there’s no way the polecat would have wanted to eat the vegetables in the allotment,’ said Sophie, ‘not with teeth like that.’
    ‘What then?’ asked Tom.
    ‘There must have been another animal in the allotment,’ said Sophie. ‘Another animal was eating the vegetables. And the polecat wanted to eat that other animal.’
    Tom nodded and said, ‘Yes . . .’
    ‘Wow, aren’t you clever!’ Violet added.
    ‘But how did that other animal get in?’ Tom asked.
    ‘THAT’s what we’ve got to find out,’ said Sophie. ‘Come on, back to the allotment.’
    She sped off, calling out, ‘Thanks, Terry,’ over her shoulder.
    ‘Yeah, thanks, Terry,’ Tom called too, following his sister.
    ‘Let me know when you solve the case!’ Terry exclaimed.
    ‘We will!’ the children replied, their voices echoing in the cold evening air.

Chapter 7
     
    Tom and Sophie and Violet were back at the allotment, staring at the hole in the fence. Tom was rubbing his chin. Sophie had her hands on her hips. Violet was scratching her head.
    ‘So if another animal was here before the polecat,’ Tom said, ‘how did it get in? There are no other gaps in the fence.’
    ‘It has to be something that’s good at climbing. Or jumping,’ said Violet.
    A moment later, a pigeon landed on the top of the fence.
    Sophie and Violet smiled and looked at each other.
    ‘Or flying,’ they said together.
    Tom looked up too.
    ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘the allotment must be full of seeds – Grandad’s always planting new stuff. A pigeon would love that. And look.’
    He pointed at a trail of white streaks that had run down the fence and dried out.
    ‘Bird poo,’ he said. ‘It looks as if they perch up there all the time. They must wait till the allotment is quiet or empty and then fly in and eat the seeds.’
    ‘So the polecat smells the pigeon,’ said Sophie.
    ‘It thinks – I’m going to bite his brain and save him for the weekend,’ said Tom.
    ‘If the pigeon was strutting back and forth on the other side of the fence,’ said Violet, ‘then the