Crazy Cat Man

Still haven't found Ralik. Jack as an issue has been sorted...the police have the matter in hand, and I can deal with him gently and honestly now. Been leafletting the neighbourhood, but many more places to check and much more to be done. I had two call outs yesterday, both well meaning, neither leading to him. Today is very misty; I doubt if anyone will see him in this.

A workman pointed me at a strange house down the street; the front was full of junk. Thick yellowed net curtains obscured any view, while the back is a ramshackle collection of broken sheds. Signs are all over the front door. 'LOOK UP!' It says, 'NOW YOU'RE ON CAMERA!' These admonitions repeat on various bits of wood and cardboard down the little lane next to his bust fences.

'When the sun's out,' said the workman, 'That shed roof is literally covered in cats. Dozens of them were there this morning...this bloke,' he lowered his voice, 'Well, he's a bit you know...' He made circles with his finger next to his head. 'He keeps loads of cats in there. Might be worth asking.'

I knocked and there was no reply. So I carried on leafletting, and when I came back, heard the TV in his front room. I rang the bell. Then I knocked. Then I knocked louder.
After a good five minutes, the door was opened by a bald headed man with big brown eyes, younger than you would expect for such a house. I gave him a leaflet, we talked.
'I'll look out for 'im,' He said earnestly, 'I promise.'

And on I went. About 6.30, someone knocked loudly on my door.

'Who is it?' I asked before answering.
'Woss the point in asking that?' Came the answer. 'You don't know me so woss the point in asking my name? YOU asked ME about a cat this afternoon!'
I opened the door. Of course it was him.
'I've been looking and thinking,' He said. 'I reckon you've come down too far. I reckon e'll have gone over the back. Look at the houses directly behind your house. Knock on a few doors.'
I told him I would.
'Course, cats do wander off to die...but you say 'e was in good health.'
'Yes,' I said. 'Though he has a medical condition...'
'So do I. Don't mean nothing though.' I had a feeling I could guess what his condition might be.
'An 'e won't have been nicked, not a black cat. They're looking for tabbies, or little dogs they can sell on...unless someone's eaten 'im.'
'Eaten?'
'Why not? We eat rabbits don't we? and people are...well, don't take offense at my terms now, I don't mean no 'arm, I've lived in Brixton. But I knew this black tart next door oo used to teach 'er son to throw half bricks at cats.'
By now I wasn't quite sure what I was saying, I think I might just have goggled at him.
'Anyway, I'll keep an eye out for 'im. I like you, you've got a nice smile.'
I smiled at him. 'Thank you so much for your help,' I said.

He smiled back and told me his name was Steve.Then, away he wandered.
I like Steve...I think. His heart seems to be in the right place.
Not sure I can vouch for his head. They find me, you know, somehow they always find me...