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themurphyzone · 7 years

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Mystery at McDuck Manor Ch 3

And we’re to our final chapter! Thanks for reading everyone!

Ch 3- Catching a Thief

Greetings, to my lovely audience. We have set up a stakeout after a long argument between Donald and Scrooge over involving the children in the plan.

Given their tempers, I think it was best to sit and let the quarrel fizzle out on its own. I am not spending more on painkillers than I have to.

The children have been given the tasks of handling the rope and keeping a lookout, but are under strict orders to not make physical contact with the thief.

Another old painting is set out in the yard next to a large oak tree. Thanks to my superior trap-making knowledge and a little tip from the Junior Woodchuck guidebook, I have surrounded the painting with nets craftily designed to catch the perpetrator.

Huey contributed to one, maybe two nets. I did most of the work.

I use my binoculars to survey the empty road that leads up to the mansion. So far, nothing. The kids are perching on a low-hanging, sturdy branch, keeping a silent watch over the road. At Donald’s request, there are two air mattresses set below the branch in case any of them fall.

Should Plan A fail, Donald and Scrooge are crouching in the bushes, ready to spring an ambush. A tad crude, but it gets the job done.

And so we lie in wait.

And wait.

I sit on the roof of the manor with my binoculars, like a frightening stone gargoyle overlooking its great castle. A suitable location for this avian avenger, this masked mallard, this dashing daring-do drake....

I see activity from the tree, the kids flapping their arms as they holler about a mysterious figure approaching. Scrooge nods, raising a finger to his beak. The kids quiet instantly, careful not to rustle the leaves or branches.

With my keen vision, I see a dark shadow following the path up to the manor. It stops every couple feet to adjust something in its grip. A weapon, perhaps?

As they approach, I see the faint outline of a large trenchcoat. Strangely, the thief wears the trenchcoat so that their body is completely covered. Not even the head or feet protrude from the material. Despite that, they don’t trip or sway to one side.

I climb down the roof and hide in the bushes with Scrooge and Donald. They’re tense, barely daring to breathe as the thief walks along the outside of the high, steel gates that surround the perimeter of the manor.

However, they do not scale the gates with a rope or dig underneath like a canine. Instead, they put a hand out and feel the individual bars. The hand is covered by a black glove, the only part of the body that’s not shrouded by the coat.

They stop at a bar three feet from the center of the gate, gently tugging it out of position and setting it down. Scrooge mutters to himself about reinforcing the gate later.

Producing a rectangular package from the inside of the coat, they slip it through the bars and set it gently on the ground.

How considerate of them to put the bar back in place once they’re on our side of the grounds. They pick up the package and walk towards us.

However, they don’t set off the traps. In fact, they take no interest in the bait whatsoever.

Before I can give Donald and Scrooge the signal, they leap out of the bushes and attempt to hold the thief in place. Predictably, the thief struggles, dropping the package in the process as the fight continues.

I snatch up the package to prevent damage to the evidence as they fight. Curious, I rip it open and reveal....

A painting.

The stolen painting to be exact.

I stand it up by the side of the manor so I can examine it thoroughly when I get some peace and quiet. Donald unleashes several angry quacks as he pummels the thief, but the coat’s material appears thick enough to absorb the blows.

After a few minutes, Scrooge is kicked by a stray foot and skids a few feet away. Undeterred, he leaps back into the fray and tackles the thief. It was an impressive feat for an old-timer. The impact throws them directly on a net, which immediately snaps closed.

The kids quickly climb down the tree, placing an air mattress under the net. The shock of being suddenly several feet in the air brings them out of the fight as the net stills.

The thief remains silent, not having uttered a word the entire time. I shoot the rope with my gas gun to bring everyone down.

Donald and Scrooge appear all right, standing up as soon as they’re free. The thief doesn’t move.

“Now, we’ll see who the perpetrator who pilfered your painting really is,” I say, grabbing the collar of the trenchcoat and pulling down so it unravels around the thief’s head.

A chorus of gasps ring out from the group.

“And the thief is....” I turn triumphantly to the criminal in question, and I come to one extremely crucial realization.

That I may have overlooked slightly.

Emphasis on slightly.

I have absolutely no idea who this female duck is.

Scrooge and Donald gasp, their eyes wide. For a moment, they stand rigid as they take in the thief’s features. She resembles Donald, judging from the shape of her beak.

So glad that I would never get that bamboozled at a female doppelganger.

“DELLA!” They scream, wrapping her in a tight hug. Della laughs as she returns it. The kids look at them uncertainly.

Dewey speaks up at last. “Mom? Is that really you?”

Della beckons the boys over. “Course. Who else would I be? I really missed you boys. Get over here!”

The triplets squeeze into the family hug. Della ruffles their hair before glancing over at Webby, who stands a short distance away. Della moves closer to Donald to make room for her.

Webby shifts and points at herself in confusion. The triplets shout at her to join in, and her beak splits into a wide smile as she eagerly jumps in as well.

An unmistakable sniff comes from behind me. Lockpaddle blows his beak into a tissue. “I love these happy family reunions!” he wailed. He cries so much that the tissue is of little use, and makes a grab for my cape.

Using my swift reflexes that I acquired after years of training in a temple of warrior monks, I evade him easily. “Hands off the cape,” I say. “I just ironed it.”

I turn to the large duckpile, which is packed tighter than a caravan of cavorting criminals. “Now that you’ve had your little reunion, I’d like an explanation for this crime you seem to have no qualms about committing.”

Donald growls. “Lay off! She just got back!”

“I’m rather curious myself,” Scrooge says. “Why all this trouble with the painting, lassie?”

Della shrugs. “Well, it took me about ten years to scavenge enough debris and rovers to build a rocket that would take me back to the earth from the moon after the Spear of Selene transported me there.”

I scoff. What a ludicrous statement.

Scrooge glares at me. “Della has never been one to lie. Do you want the explanation or not?”

“I want one that makes sense,” I snap.

Della smiles. “I guess it does sound kind of unbelievable. But at the same time, it would be boring to just walk up to the manor and tell everyone I was back. So I bought a trenchcoat and entered through a second story window. I was searching for Donald so I could scare him, but I guess I got a little too excited.”

Dewey cracks a grin. “And you surprised us when you tumbled down the stairs. You’re terrible at landing.”

“You guys were champs at sliding down that banister,” Della says.

Donald frowns. “I don’t want you kids to break something important. No more sliding down banisters!”

“Your Uncle Donald is just jealous. The one time he tried it as a kid, he wound up slamming headfirst into the front door,” Della says.

Donald folds his arms. “Don’t give Louie any potential blackmail!”

Louie shrugs. That delinquent....

I clear my throat. “I take it these aviator goggles are yours?” I pull out the goggles, slightly cracked but still usable. “I discovered these next to the stairs.”

“My goggles!” Della exclaims. “I was wondering where I put these!”

“Now, if you would kindly get to the part with the painting,” I say, tossing the goggles to her.

Della nods. “Of course. So I dashed outside before the kids could reveal me and walked around the yard to the garage. Then I saw the painting with Uncle Scrooge, Uncle Donald, and me had a torn corner so I decided to present the fixed painting to them as a surprise.”

“Your surprise worked!” Webby exclaims.

“By the way,” Della says, pulling away from Scrooge and Donald so she could stare them in the eye. “You two have been getting along, right?”

Scrooge gulps. “Um, yes, we’ve been getting along very well! Haven’t we, Donald?”

“Yes! Course! What makes you think we wouldn’t?” Donald chuckles.

Well, a superhero has better things to do than sit around and watch family drama patch up. I must take my leave, good citizens of Duckburg.

I conclude my investigation of the missing painting with a few bruises, but Darkwing Duck always rises to the challenge!

Until we meet again, my fellow ducks!

#ducktales 2017 #scrooge mcduck #donald duck #darkwing duck #fanfiction

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