Re-shaping the Universe (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency)

Chapter 7

Present Day

"Dirk slapped a cat."

"...Go on."

"And the cat slapped him back."

"...Right."

"And the cat decidedly won."

"Okay." Farah couldn't stop the smirk that threatened. They were stood in the living room of a woman's house, trying to understand how said woman's son had turned into a cat. Todd pushed his hands into his pockets. He also couldn't quite hold in his laughter.

The cat that had slapped Dirk, and left four long, distinct claw marks along his cheekbone.

"Why did you slap the cat, Dirk?" Farah asked, stifling her laughter with a cough.

"Because it started floating, Farah! What else was I supposed to do?!" Dirk looked up at her. The claw marks were bleeding a little. Miss Rutherford returned from the kitchen with a small first aid kit and a pack of alcohol wipes.

"Come now, Mr Gently, you sit still," Miss Rutherford murmured, her own hands shaking.

"Perhaps it might be better if Farah or Todd took care of that, Miss Rutherford?" Dirk suggested, when she'd batted him across the face with shaking so much. It was too much for her to bear; she started to cry.

"Here, Todd, take care of the cat-slapper. I'll take care of Miss Rutherford." Farah gestured to Dirk and took Miss Rutherford from the room.

"Don't hurt me, Todd," Dirk murmured, shaking his head.

"I won't. I can clean this up, at least."

A moment of silence passed between them as Todd took out an alcohol wipe and started cleaning Dirk's cuts. Dirk winced a few times, but no more. Todd smiled when they were clean. It wasn't the first time he'd had to care for Dirk's face.

"Done?" Dirk asked.

"Sure are. Handsome boy."

"Leave off," Dirk muttered, standing to inspect himself in the mirror. "I look so badass right now."

"...Right. If badass were a beanpole in a brightly-coloured jacket."

"Jealousy is a sickness, Todd. Get well soon." Dirk snapped his fingers. Then, a lightbulb lit up in his mind. "Holy – oh my god, Todd! I think I know what happened to Miss Rutherford's son!" Dirk raced back upstairs to the boy's room, grinning. "My guess is that there's another pocket dimension here somewhere! You know, like Wendimoor?"

"O...kay... but how? I mean, Miss Rutherford said the room was completely untouched. Wendimoor's portals at least left water behind."

"Hmm. True. But no two pocket dimension portals are the same, Todd. Come on – start looking for a portal." Dirk started hunting through the boy's wardrobe, and Todd, with a roll of his eyes, started looking on the other side of the room. Suddenly...

"Hello, this looks strange. Dirk?" Todd held up an old, dusty looking book. It was ornate in its antiquity, the leather binding a deep, blood red, with faded gold embossing all over it. Todd opened it, straight to where a modern-day post-it note lay. Nothing was written on it, but there was a series of words highlighted beneath where it had been stuck.

"What's that?"

"Looks like some kind of sorcerer's book or something. Look – little Jamie must have read those words?"

"Do you think?"

"Maybe we should tell Farah what we've –"

"The words seemed nonsensical, but suddenly, a circle appeared beneath Dirk, and he slipped out of sight with a pop. In his place stood a huge, leafy palm.