Marguerite Whiskerton keeps the books at Purrfect Pitch with the kind of precision usually reserved for hunting. She is a black and white cat of seven who files by colour, by date and, when in doubt, by mood.
She reconciles eighteen accounts a month, has found three errors in the last audit by the Revenue Service and has been publicly thanked by none of them. Her desk is bare except for a single pen, which she has not moved in four years.
Her one indulgence is a small bowl of oat crackers at her elbow. Ask her about it and she will say it is a petty cash fund. Do not ask her about the balance.