The Posh Rat Short Story & Audiobook Series: Episode 9 - Moustache Mystery

Moustache Mystery

What a pleasure to walk down bustling Ratford Street with someone as observant as Reginald “Posh Rat” Twitch. 

When Posh stopped mid-stride today and looked up thoughtfully at the statue standing in General Twitch Square, I knew something had caught his eagle-eye.

“Barnes?” he said. “Does something seem different to you about that statue of my great-great-grand-uncle, General Terwilliger Twitch?”

I looked the stone statue up and down. It had been standing in the square, on top of a fountain, since before I was born. There did seem to be something different about it, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Suddenly, Posh gasped.

“His moustache!”

Posh was right, as always. General Twitch was known for his fondness for whisker-wax. He shaped his whiskers into a moustache with several curlicues. The sculptor had done a remarkable job copying this distinctive moustache in stone. But now…

“It’s missing!” Posh exclaimed.

Indeed, the stone moustache was nowhere to be seen. The General’s nose looked quite naked without it.

“This is a catastrophe!” Posh said. “He looks ridiculous without the moustache!”

Personally, I had always thought General Twitch looked ridiculous with the moustache, but I would never tell Posh that. For the Twitches, Terwilliger Twitch’s appearance was a matter of family pride.

“Everyone on Ratford Street is snickering!” Posh said, looking around.

“Oh come now, Poshy,” I assured him. “No one is as petty as that!”

However, no sooner were those words out of my mouth when I detected several Underundergrounders hiding smiles and giggles behind their paws or handkerchiefs.

“We have to find that moustache immediately!” said Posh, as he began searching in the fountain and on the ground below the statue. “It must have fallen off!”

While Posh and I searched the vicinity, I told him how the statue was a point of pride for me as well.

“Why’s that, Barnes?”

I informed my friend that the sculptor was none other than my great-great-aunt, Penelope Barnes. She was an extremely talented artist and inventor.

“Just like you!” said Posh, delighted. But his expression changed when his eyes fell on a billboard high up on a building. It was a giant advertisement for Happy Nappies, featuring an adorable baby rat wearing a nappy and… Terwilliger Twitch’s moustache! It was hard not to smile.

“How’d the moustache get up there?” I wondered.

“Someone obviously put it there to be funny,” said Posh, unamused. He stomped away. “I’m off to get a ladder!”

An hour later, having plucked the moustache off the billboard, Posh was now carefully sticking it back on the statue.

“Whoever did this dastardly deed used glue to make it stick to the billboard,” Posh said. “But I see here that your ancestor Penelope engineered an ingenious slot just under the General’s nose. The moustache fits snugly without the need for glueing or welding.”

“So, all’s well that ends well,” I said. ”We won’t have to worry about missing moustaches again.”

But I was wrong. The next day, I was working on a new PinkerTech™ gadget in the Twitch family mansion when Posh came storming in.

“It’s missing again!” he said. “I was just down in the Square and the poor General hasn’t a single whisker!”

“It’s just a statue,” I reminded him. “And I’m sure the moustache will turn up. I wonder why it’s happening.”

Posh’s father, Finnicus Twitch, marched into the room. “I’ll tell you why it’s happening! Someone wants to make the Twitches look ridiculous!”

“Surely not!” I said.

Father Twitch turned on the television. “Just look at this!”

A news broadcast was reporting on the whereabouts of – you guessed it – the moustache. Apparently, it had been found in someone’s soup in a popular restaurant, and then later was seen in the hat of a famous opera performer. The police have recovered the moustache and it’s currently in safekeeping at the downtown station. The newscasters couldn’t control their giggling as they delivered this information. Posh turned off the telly in a huff.

“I’m going down to the station!” Posh said. “And Father, when I come back, Barnes and I will solve this once and for all!”

Later that night, Posh and I were at the statue putting the finishing touches on our plan to prevent future moustache-snatching. A series of wires now led from the nose of the statue down to a large alarm system directly underneath. For extra measure, Posh posted a big sign that said “Warning! Moustache Theft comes with serious penalties because it’s a serious crime!”

Posh then asked, “Do you have your new invention? The… the whatchamacallit?”

I held up a bucket containing a glowing blue liquid. “The Memory-Dust™, yes. I’ll apply it now!” 

I brushed a thin layer of my latest invention on the statue, on the fountain and the ground. I also painted the air around the statue. When it dried, the Memory-Dust™ would be invisible, but would record all footprints or fingerprints. 

“No one will be able to get near that moustache without us knowing who it was,” I said. Pleased with my work, Posh clapped me on the back. 

“It really is a fine work of art your great-great-aunt created,” he said. “Is it true that she and Terwilliger had a falling out?”

“Yes,” I said. “Penelope was Terwilliger’s sidekick, inventing several ingenious devices for him. But Terwilliger said something insulting to her and they didn’t speak to each other for years. Apparently, this statue was Penelope’s way of saying ‘All’s forgiven’.”

He and I went back to the Twitch mansion, quite positive that the moustache was now finally safe. But before the morning…

RRRRRIIIIIIINGGG! WHOOOP! WHOOOP! WHOOOP!

… we were woken up by the sound of the statue’s alarm.

Posh leapt out of bed and dashed down the street. The moustache was missing. But this time, we had the Memory-Dust™. We’d find out, once and for all, who was behind this crime spree! But the mystery became more mysterious. There were no prints recorded!

The moustache was eventually found on the top of a wedding cake. After licking off all the icing, Posh stuck the thing back on the statue and then plopped down on the ground. “I’m going to sit right here all night if I must. Enough is enough!”

I told him I’d keep him company. Hours went by. Posh spent most of the time deep in thought, twirling his walking cane. I was just beginning to wish I had brought a book when suddenly we heard a strange mechanical sound.

“Do you hear that, Barnes?”

“Yes!” I said. “It sounds like gears are turning. And it sounds like it’s coming from inside the statue!”

All of a sudden…

WHOOSH! WHIRRR!

… the moustache flew off the statue and sped through the air down the street!

We sprinted after it as fast as we could, but the flying moustache was getting further and further away.

“Posh! Your cane! It’s the one we used to catch the alligator, remember?!”

“Good thinking, Barnes!” Posh said. He pointed his cane towards the flying moustache, pressed a button and… Ploofff! Stretchy netting flew out of the cane and snagged the runaway moustache!

The next day I was able to examine the moustache and statue in more detail. It wasn’t simply made of stone. The moustache was actually a drone, with very advanced technology, including little helicopter blades and a supply of glue. Inside the statue was the most ingenious assembly of gears.

“So Penelope hadn’t forgiven Terwilliger,” Posh concluded. Indeed, the statue was actually a machine set to a timer. Penelope had designed it to make Terwilliger look foolish decades in the future. The case was finally solved.

“And I learned two valuable lessons,” said Posh as he turned to me.

“Moustaches aren’t worth getting upset about?” I guessed.

“Yes,” said Posh. “And never insult your sidekick.”

The End