Mr. and Mrs. Bunny—Detectives Extraordinaire! (14 page)

“Yes, yes, all interesting ideas,” said Mr. Bunny, rubbing his
chin in a pensive manner. “Let's drive about and look for signs of foxes. And butlers.”

“Ignore him,” said Mrs. Bunny. “He will never admit he is wrong about the butler.”

“We have to get
serious
,” said Madeline as they pulled into the Bunnys' driveway. “We can't just flounder around this way.”

“Never you mind,” said Mr. Bunny. “Wait until you see what I have in the house. It's my greatest invention.”

“Another sleepless night?” called Mrs. Bunny as Mr. Bunny ran inside. “Mr. Bunny gets up and invents things when he can't sleep.”

“Well, that must be handy,” said Madeline.

“Oh yes,” said Mrs. Bunny vaguely. “When the basement fills up, I suppose we can sell them for scrap metal.”

“Don't they
work
?” asked Madeline.

“Well, he says they do,” said Mrs. Bunny.

Mr. Bunny ran back outside. He was carrying a box with a bell on top. “This,” he declared proudly, “is a fox finder!”

“Really?” said Madeline. “How does it operate?”

“You see the bell on the top? When the box gets close to
a fox, the bell goes off. I'm telling you, someday I will patent this and make a fortune and Mrs. Bunny will never have to knit again.”

“I like knitting,” said Mrs. Bunny.

“How does it work exactly?” asked Madeline. “I mean, how does it sense that a fox is about?”

“I don't know,” said Mr. Bunny. “Maybe it is magic.”

Madeline started to have the uneasy feeling again that she was putting way too much trust in these nice rabbits. On the one hand, it was
so
comforting to have help. On the other hand, to be realistic, they were no help at all. “Well, have you ever tried it before?”

“I've tried it, but of course the bell didn't ring because there were no foxes about. So, in that sense, I think we can say it works fine.”

Madeline paused. “Is that all you've got?” she asked finally, but she was interrupted by Mrs. Bunny, who had found an envelope taped to the door, ripped it off, opened and read it.

“Oh, Mr. Bunny!” Mrs. Bunny cried.

“What is it?” asked Mr. Bunny.

“It's a notice.”

“I can see that, but a notice from whom?”

“It's not just a notice, it's a summons!”

“Oh no. Not from—”

“Yes! We've been called before … 
the Bunny Council
.” And then a terrified silence ensued.

 MRS. BUNNY WORRIES THAT PRISON WILL BE BAD FOR HER COMPLEXION 

“W
ell, I never thought it could happen to us,” said Mr. Bunny. “The thing is, the summons might be about so many things. They may be blaming us for the disappearance of the previous owners of the hutch.”

“Oh, surely they could not be so unfair,” said Mrs. Bunny.

“Can and most likely are!” said Mr. Bunny. “I've read that this is a particularly fierce council, prone to making mistakes and unjust arrests. You can be stripped of your bunny citizenship like
that
!” He snapped his fingers. It made Mrs. Bunny jump. “They could be charging me with driving without a license.”

“You said you didn't need one,” said Madeline.

“I don't, but they're a capricious bunch,” said Mr. Bunny. “Suppose they think it wasn't foxes that got the previous owners but that we killed them for their hutch and car? But the council can't prove it. So they get me on an illegal driving charge and lock me up and throw away the key.”

“Mercy, Mr. Bunny!” said Mrs. Bunny. “What a thought!”

“Would you wait for me?”

“For a little while …,” said Mrs. Bunny, her eyes wandering. “Perhaps I shall make a few prune cakes and freeze them.”

“You mean carrot cakes,” said Mr. Bunny, turning to Madeline to explain. “Mrs. Bunny likes prune cakes but never makes them because I don't eat prune.”

“He likes prune
plums
but not prunes. Such is the way of the male bunny.” Mrs. Bunny rolled her eyes and then continued thoughtfully, “Hmmm. Prune cake or carrot?”

“Not now, Mrs. Bunny,” said Mr. Bunny. “This is not the confectionary hour. Try to keep your mind on the facts.”

“What facts?” asked Mrs. Bunny. “We have no facts. They ought to at least give us a
hint
as to why we're being called before them.”

“That's how they mean to trip you up,” said Mr. Bunny. “What's the date on the summons?”

“It says we are to appear before them tomorrow,” said Mrs. Bunny, reading it again.

“We don't have
time
for this!” said Madeline, wringing her hands.

“Madeline, dear, this isn't a game. The Bunny Council is a very serious thing indeed,” said Mrs. Bunny.

“Finding Flo and Mildred is serious!” said Madeline. “And things keep getting in the way!”

“Don't worry,” said Mr. Bunny. “We'll find Flo and Mildred before we get tossed in the clink.”

“And then I will have to rescue you too,” said Madeline.

“There is no rescuing from a bunny prison,” said Mrs. Bunny. “They're very secure.”

“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Madeline.

“Come on, let's get to work, no sense sitting around worrying,” said Mr. Bunny, and they drove Mrs. Bunny to her hat club meeting.

Mrs. Bunny went inside determined to act as if nothing had happened, although the temptation to tell everyone was
overwhelming. After all, one of the great things about making friends was all those long and fuzzy sympathetic ears. Still, one never knew how others might react to such tidings, and she was so new to the community. They might not be sympathetic at all. They might
shun
her.

Better not say a word, she thought, or even give hint of such a thing as Mr. Bunny and I going to prison. No, no, no, better keep my bunny lips sealed.

“I have wonderful news,” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny as she opened the bunny hat club meeting with a sharp rap of her turnip gavel. “The Bunny Council has approved the making of an extra two hundred bonnets for the march past Comox Elementary. And because Prince Charles's visit is such a singular honor, we are opening up the parade to bunnies from six other counties. All of the parading bunnies will be decked out in our beautifully hand-decorated bonnets.”

The hat clubbers clapped their paws together enthusiastically. Bunny applause is never very loud. The fur muffles it. To make up for this, it often goes on for quite a long time. Mrs. Bunny was shaking out her tired clapping paws while thinking she mustn't let anything slip about where she might be in a week. Under no circumstances would she mention prisons.

“But can we make so many bonnets by then?” asked Mrs. Sneepbunny.

“We will no doubt wear the fur right off our knuckles, but I feel this is a singular honor and we mustn't shrink from it!” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny.

“No indeed,” said the rest of the bunnies.

“The council has posted notices everywhere calling for donations of things to decorate the bonnets. This is a true community effort, and so many bunnies started to contribute as soon as they heard donations were needed. That's true bunny nature, and we can all be proud of it. We've had people dropping off their old ribbons and bows and fabric flowers all night, and one very generous anonymous benefactor has donated bolts and bolts of thin rubber to line the bonnets, so we will stop lining the bonnets in plastic and switch to rubber.”

“But however can we finish the bonnets with so few meetings before Monday?” asked Mrs. Wigglebunny.

“An excellent question. Indeed, we cannot. Only if we take bonnets home to work on during the week can we hope to finish. Now, I have made up boxes of bonnets and decorations for everyone. I suggest you work on your box of bonnets whenever
possible. I myself shall work in front of the television in the evening. And when I chat on the phone with my bunny pals.”

“An excellent idea,” said Mrs. Hushbunny. “I will do it while waiting for the kettle to boil.”

“I will do it during those long empty prison hours,” said Mrs. Bunny. “Oh,
curses!
”

“Mrs. Bunny, what
are
you talking about?” asked Mrs. Ruskeebunny.

“Nothing, nothing,” said Mrs. Bunny. “My mind wanders.”

“Now, I know,” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny, “that we ladies won't mind the rather pungent smell of the rubber lining we are putting in the bonnets, but some of us have husbands who may object. Might I ask if any of you have any helpful suggestions for ways to deal with this?”

“A Glade PlugIn,” said Mrs. Sneepbunny. “Or several. Put them in every light socket. That should cover the smell.”

“My husband would object to a whole house smelling suddenly of Tuberose Surprise,” said Mrs. Binglybunny.

“And those Glade PlugIns have a pungent odor of their own,” said Mrs. Hopperbunny. “If you plugged them into every light socket the neighbors might complain.”

“Or the warden,” said Mrs. Bunny. “Or that scary bunny down in cell block D.”

“Really, Mrs. Bunny, you make no sense today,” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny.

“No, I don't. I really don't.
No
sense.
No
sense at all,” said Mrs. Bunny, biting her lips.

“What about candles?” asked Mrs. Hushbunny. “There are some lovely scented ones at the card shoppe.”

“Yes, that's fine if they let you have matches in your cell, but they don't,” said Mrs. Bunny before she could stop herself.

“Mrs. Bunny, restrain yourself,” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny.

“I'm trying,” said Mrs. Bunny.

“Why bring the rubber lining home at all? We can decorate the hats at home and then have a special extra meeting just for lining the hats,” suggested Mrs. Biliousbunny.

“Ah, now there is a
helpful
suggestion,” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny, giving Mrs. Bunny a reproving look.

Mrs. Bunny blushed and blushed.

“We could form an assembly line,” said Mrs. Sneepbunny.

“Using the techniques we learned making license plates,” said Mrs. Bunny.

“Mrs. Bunny, you are an enigma today,” said Mrs. Ruskeebunny.

“What did I say? What did I say?” asked Mrs. Bunny.

“License plates?” said Mrs. Sneepbunny.

“Oh,
curses
! What do I know about license plates? Nothing! Nothing! I don't even drive. What a silly bunny I am. What I meant to say was that an assembly line is an excellent idea!”

“Except that we may not have time for an assembly-line meeting,” said Mrs. Snowbunny. “Therefore I suggest we go back to plan A and all buy Glade PlugIns. There are many fine scents that have nothing to do with either tuberose or surprise.”

“Excellent!” said the other bunnies, hopping up and down. “Excellent, excellent, excellent!”

And they all hopped home with their boxes of bonnets and decorations, feeling useful and brilliantly intelligent as each remembered the idea as being her own.