A gang of animals rob a mail train. It is one of the greatest crimes in history. The police are certain that Theo the monkey is the criminal mastermind behind it. But as Storynory listeners know, Theo is a good monkey who fights for justice.

 

A lively, funny, exciting – and (perhaps) a touch silly – story.

 

Story by Bertie.

 

                                                       Read by Natasha.

 

                                                       Proofread by Jana Elizabeth.

 

Monkey Money

 

 

The Great Monkey Robbery –

 

Hello, this is Natasha, and I am here with another story about the fugitive monkey called Theo. As you may know, Theo fights crime and stands up for justice. It’s just unfortunate that the police mistakenly believe that he is a criminal. In this story his name gets mixed up in a serious robbery.

 

The secret mail train was hurtling across the country. When I say “secret,” what I mean is that only very few people were supposed to know that it made this journey at all. At each stop along the way, it picked up sacks of used banknotes. That was the sort of information that could prove very costly should it fall into the wrong hands.

 

At 2am on a dark and bitter morning, two men stood at the top of a bridge:

 

“There she comes,” said one, “right on time, though you won’t find her anywhere in the official schedules.”  

 

The train’s horn blared as the secret mail service whooshed and rattled beneath the men’s feet. One of these shady characters was a gangland boss. The other was somebody we have met before, a criminal zoo keeper called Mr Grabber.  

 

“So our only little problem is this,” sighed the gangland boss: “How do we stop a train that’s traveling at 100mph? Is that something you can solve for us,  Timmy-boy?”

 

Tim was Mr Grabber’s first name. He really didn’t like being called “Timmy-boy” but he felt it would not be wise to complain about it in such company. All he said was:

 

“Sure can do…  for the right price.”

 

A month later, the train was again speeding south with its cargo of cash. It was on a long straight stretch of track where it could run flat out at maximum speed.   

 

“Hey what’s that up ahead?” asked the guard.

 

“Not sure,” said the driver, pulling a long lever.  

 

A large pink object, luminous in the moonlight, was blocking the track. The brakes of the train were screeching. It was going to stop before it reached the obstruction, but only just.

 

“Mick, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” asked the driver.

 

The guard gaped with his mouth open before he could reply:

 

“Well if you can tell me with your hand on your heart that you are looking at a pink elephant, then yes I am, and I swear I haven’t touched a drop all evening.”

 

The elephant was holding up his trunk, like a policeman directing the traffic.  The train came to a halt and for almost a minute there was a pregnant silence.  Then suddenly there came a banging and a scratching on the roof and the sides of the train.   

 

“Holy Moly!” said Mick the guard. “What’s that?”

 

They could not see that a gang of monkeys had jumped off the verge of the railway, and was now dancing and jumping up and down the roof of the train.   

 

The first hint of what was happening came when a hairy upside down face peered through the front window. A long arm reached down and pulled off the windscreen wiper.

 

The driver was frantically yelling on his radio to the signal control centre:  “This is service 101. A pink elephant is blocking the track and we are being attacked by monkeys!”

 

“Come again?” was the reply.

 

Two small explosions blew open the sides of the mail cars. The well trained monkeys jumped down and formed a line. Soon they were passing mail sacks from one to another, then up onto a saddle on the back of the elephant – the sort of elephant saddle they use in India. When the saddle was full they filled up a sledge behind him. 15 minutes later the job was done and the elephant waved his trunk and stomped up the grassy bank. On the other side, a huge circus truck was waiting to transport him and the sacks away. By the time the police had arrived on the scene of the crime, first by helicopter, and then much later in cars, the animal gang was long gone. They had already joined the long stream of juggernauts heading for the city, and were indistinguishable from any of them.

 

The robbery was a sensation: “Animal heist! screamed the headlines. And then in bold print:

 

“Theo the Simian Master Criminal is number 1 suspect.”

 

Tucked up in his lair inside the City Park, Theo heard the news over his radio during the breakfast show.

 

“There can be little doubt,” he said to himself ruefully, “that once again I have been set up by Mr Grabber.”

 

Later that morning, Theo swung over the roof tops to the street market where a friendly store-holder normally gave him apples and bananas, but today the man shook his head:

 

“You’ve been a naughty boy,” he said “I should really hand you over to the cops.”  

 

Theo let out an “Oooh, ah-ah,” and the store holder, who was really quite a sensitive fellow, understood what Theo meant by that plaintive cry: “If I had just stolen several million pounds in used banknotes, why would I be here begging for bananas?”

 

And so Theo did not go hungry that morning.  

 

Around about the same time, the Mayor was on the telephone to the Chief of the City Police to give him a hot blast of his wrath:

 

“How much longer are you going to let that fugitive ape make a monkey out of us?” he was demanding to know. “This is getting serious. There will be questions in Parliament.”

 

When Theo returned to his lair, the radio airwaves were still humming with excitement. The mid-morning phone-in programme featured two expert pundits.  One was an animal psychologist who was saying:

 

“This spate of criminal activity shows that apes are even more intelligent than has been generally recognised in the past.”

 

The second so called “expert” was someone who had many years of day to day experience handling monkeys. He was none other than the former head of apes at the city zoo, now promoted to Managing Director.

 

“Oooh, that Mr Grabber gets everywhere,”  said Theo crossly.

 

A caller from the general public wanted to know what monkeys would do with sacks of cash:

 

“I’m sorry to say,” said Mr Grabber, “that they will probably use the money to stuff their nests.”

 

The animal psychologist strongly disagreed: “Monkeys are rapidly evolving into a far more sophisticated species than that. It is clear that this Theo whom the police say is directing these criminal operations, has an intellect on a par with the best human hooligans.”

 

“But do you think he has a sense of humour?” asked the show’s presenter and host, who was called Jennie Pushy. “Is it at all possible that he is doing this to show up the authorities as a bunch of incompetent fools?”

 

“Well the use of a pink elephant would suggest that he’s having a bit of joke,”  agreed the psychologist. “And I expect he enjoys staying ten steps ahead of the blundering police force.”

 

Theo was listening to all this with a sense of dismay. “Why can’t they see that a human is behind this?” he thought to himself. “Surely they know that monkeys don’t need money?”

 

Back at the zoo, the monkeys were enjoying their reward – double rations of bananas,  and they had very little understanding that they had helped Mr Grabber and his gangland friends to rake away a small fortune. Money meant nothing to them. But apes do have their pride, and can even be made to feel ashamed. Late one night they were woken by a loud clanging on the bars of their enclosure. A familiar voice was screeching: “Hey you lot, wake up, I’ve got to something to say to you.”

 

The voice belonged to Theo, who at some considerable risk to himself had climbed back into his old zoo to speak to his former comrades in the monkey enclosure.

 

“Hey look, it’s that criminal we used to know,” screeched one of the grey-haired monkeys. The younger ones gathered round and beat their chests at him.

 

“Yeah, call the night keepers,” called out another.

 

“Who are you saying is a criminal?” demanded Theo. “You lot are the ones who go around robbing trains!” He had to shout to be heard.

 

And the monkey commotion did not die down until Fucius, the oldest and wisest of the apes, was fully awake. He climbed up onto the highest rock.

 

“You younger monkeys would do well to listen to what Theo has to say,” he proclaimed. “Show him courtesy, and quieten down.”

 

“Thank you, wise one,” called back Theo.” He stood on his hind legs and summoned up as much dignity as he could muster.

 

“I have come here to plead with all the monkeys who live in the zoo to stop helping Mr Grabber in his criminal exploits. When he asks you to go on an adventure outside the zoo, you must realise that he is never up to any good. He is feathering his own nest and the good name of monkeys is being besmirched in the human world. They think that we are evolving into a species of criminals.  You must not feed this dangerous idea.”

 

Somebody was about to throw a banana skin at Theo, but Fucius caught his eye and he quietly dropped it.

 

“Theo is right,” declared Fucius. “No good will come of taking part in bad enterprises.”

 

Some of the younger monkeys said Theo was a liar and said that he was a criminal who did not like competition on his patch. They traded insults like “Thief!” and “Parasite” and “Human Pet,” which is one of the worst things you can say to a monkey.

 

When Theo left he was not very optimistic that he had managed to win anyone over to his side. But he underestimated his powers of persuasion. Most of the monkeys were honest at heart, and felt ashamed that they had been used by Mr Grabber to further his criminal aims.

 

Theo thought he was dreaming when in the middle of the night he heard the nearby trees full of chattering and gibbering. “I am back at the zoo,” he said to himself in his sleep. Eventually he opened his eyes and looked out from his treehouse. The branches were alive with long armed forms.  

 

“Ahh, I’m under attack,” he thought, and as he stuck his head out of his lair, he called out: “Listen you lot, I’ll go down fighting, and I’ll take some of you with me, so say your prayers.”

 

“Ooh-ahh” replied the voice of Constantine, who was their leader. “We come in peace to join your gang.”

 

“My gang?” exclaimed Theo. “It’s a gang of one and I like it that way.”  

 

“You know the law of the great family of apes – We’re all brothers and we help one another.”

 

“Sure,” said Theo, “I’ll help pick fleas out of your hair, but when it comes to staying one step ahead of the cops, there’s no safety in numbers. It’s best to lie low and keep quiet. I don’t see you lot doing that. Now buzz off. Leave me alone.   I’ve been a free monkey for over a year, and the last thing I need is for dog-walkers to see you lot hanging out in the trees. Get back to the zoo before anyone notices you’re missing. That’s my advice.”

 

But as the monkeys were deaf to his words of wisdom, Theo decided that he himself must leave. While it was still dark, he ran across the park to the streets, and climbed up onto the roof tops of the city. “Where shall I go?” he thought to himself. He stood up on his hind legs and surveyed the urban scene. The sun was rising and the early morning traffic was starting to rumble. The biggest building he could see was the railway terminus and he thought to himself: “That’s where I will go.”

 

He climbed up some scaffolding at the back of the station. From the clock tower he could see thousands of commuters pouring out into the city centre. A few people spotted his apish silhouette up on the skyline. Not everyone had the same thought. There were those whose reaction was: “There’s that scary criminal, why can’t the cops catch him?” and there were other more subversive souls who instinctively felt that the powers of the land were using him as an excuse for their own failings. “Good on you monkey” they thought. “You’ve given us plenty of laughs. Long may you keep your freedom.”

 

A train official called both the police and the fire brigade, but before they arrived he had already climbed down onto one of the little covers above the platforms and from there onto a train as it left the station. He clung to the top of a carriage until he reached a stop called “Burbington Woods” which sounded like a promising place to set up his new hideaway. Indeed, he had arrived in a village built on the edge of a pleasant enough wood. In the thickest part of the trees he found some tall branches where no human would spot him, and no dog would smell his scent. The only possession he had brought with him was his radio. He listened to some music before falling into a doze. Eventually he was woken up by the pips for the midday news. The announcer was saying:

 

“The Chief of Police has issued a statement saying that the fugitive ape known as Theo has been apprehended and taken into custody along with his criminal gang.”

 

“More establishment lies,” thought Theo to himself, before realising. “Oh, I see, they’ve rounded up the monkeys in the park and they think one of them is me.”

 

And he thanked his animal instinct which had prompted him to move on when he had done, not a moment too soon.

 

And that was the story of the Great Monkey Robbery. I wonder what Theo will do next, now he has had to leave the big city. Keep listening to Storynory.com to find out.