“We have evidence he organized a crew of animal offenders before he was locked up.” The Pillar does all the talking. I barely can grasp how the March Hare is talked about so openly. “It would be a big favor if you helped us meet him. He might lead us to how to stop the rabbit from exploding.”
“But no rabbit is going to explode anymore,” Inspector Dormouse says. “Can’t you see? We’re past the deadline of 666 minutes. It was all a hoax by a crazy magician in a cheap circus.”
“Again, we have evidence the deadlines has been extended for another twenty-four hours,” the Pillar says.
“What evidence?” Inspector Dormouse suddenly seems alert. “Can I see it?”
“It’s classified,” the Pillar says.
“I’m the police. Nothing is classified to me,” Inspector Dormouse says.
“You’re the Department of Insanity on 7.5 Ha Ha Street,” the Pillar remarks in a slightly mocking manner. “I’m sorry, but you’re not really the police.”
“You’re right.” Inspector Dormouse waves his fatty hand in the air. “I hate my job. We haven’t solved one case since we were hired a few years ago. How am I supposed to catch a madman and convict him of a crime? A bomb inside a rabbit. Huh.”
“I suppose you could help us, then,” I offer. “We promise you get the credit if we catch the rabbit.”
The Pillar cranes his head with admiration toward me. “She always keeps her promise,” he tells Inspector Dormouse, as he flashes a thumb at me. “I assure you, she’s not mad like all those criminals you chase. Not in the slightest. She doesn’t even own a Certificate of Insanity.”
“You look like a fine young woman,” Inspector Dormouse says. “My daughter would look up to you. She likes animals and likes saving them.” He takes a moment to think it over. His head falls onto his chest as he thinks. He is about to sleep again. “So.” Inspector Dormouse comes back from sleep. “What were we saying?”
“The March Hare,” I say. “We’d like to meet him.” We have to meet him, and soon.
“Ah, that.”
“Why is he called the March Hare, by the way?” I ask.
“Because he is as mad as a March Hare.” Inspector Dormouse chuckles.
“Mad as a March Hare?” I am really confused about this. I thought the saying was “mad as a Hatter,” although I know now that the Hatter was never described as “mad” in the book.
“It’s an old saying, young girl,” Inspector Dormouse says. “In my days we used to say things like ‘you’re mad as a March hare’ or ‘mad as a bag of snakes.’”
“Or ‘mad as a box of frogs,’” the Pillar offers.
“See, Professor Petmaster knows.” Inspector Dormouse yawns.
“Mad as a casket in the basket.” The Pillar can’t help it.
“Mad as the holes in socks.” Inspector Dormouse stands up and high-fives him.
“Mad as a parrot with a carrot!” the Pillar says.
Officers around turn their heads at the two loons I am talking to.
“Mad as the man in the van.” Inspector Dormouse looks wide awake now. No coffee needed.
“Can anyone really tell me why he is called the March Hare?” I almost yell in frustration. Seriously, why are all these people not locked away in an asylum?
“Hmm...” Inspector Dormouse adjusts his loose tie and sits back. “Well, young lady, it’s because he is usually nervous, unable to relax, always feeling anxious, and everything around him is a conspiracy.”
“Did you know that?” I turn and look at the Pillar.
“I heard about him.” He cocks his head.
“So does he have a real name?” I ask the inspector.
“Certainly,” he says. “His name is Professor Jittery March.”
“He is a professor?”
“An exceptional Scottish scientist, indeed,” Inspector Dormouse says. “A theorist, architect, and landscapist.”
“Wow, all that,” I say. “I bet he is nicknamed March Hare for all his talents.”
“Not at all,” Inspector Dormouse says. “Professor Jittery March is now locked in a high-tech asylum. He is the maddest of the mad.”
“Asylum?” I look at the Pillar.
“Top-level high-tech asylum, if I have to repeat myself,” Inspector Dormouse says.
“Why?”
Inspector Dormouse takes a long breath and then says, “A few people are allocated to such secure asylums. They say he has gone mad looking for doors to Wonderland.”
Chapter 28
Inspector Dormouse’s car, somewhere in London
Time remaining: 22 hours, 11 minutes
We’re waiting outside the inspector’s car, preparing to drive to meet Professor Jittery March. Now unusually alert, Inspector Dormouse is making a lot of phone calls, inside his car, trying to arrange a meeting. I don’t know what’s really going on, or where the professor is locked up. Neither does the Pillar.
“How come you don’t know about Professor Jittery?” I ask him.
“I do know about him,” the Pillar whispers so the inspector won’t hear us. “It’s just we never crossed paths. Back in Wonderland, he was the Hatter’s best friend. He owned a house where the craziest tea parties took place. I also don’t know what his role is in the upcoming Wonderland Wars.”