“You’re seriously trying to tell me an ordinary domestic cat is terrorising three adults?”

We’ve certainly had our fair share of famous murder-solving sleuths on these isles over the years. Hercules Poirot, Miss Marple, Sherlock Holmes, Tabitha the cat…

Yes, it’s time to give Tabitha, and cats everywhere, their due. These little creatures are first-rate at bringing wrong-uns to justice. You may think of them as annoying furballs who spend their days ignoring you and licking their own arseholes, but let me tell you, when they put their tiny minds to a relentless campaign of psychosis-inducing revenge, no-one can touch them.

Literally. Apart from Barbara Shelley, apparently.

And so we come to The Shadow Of The Cat, an early Hammer horror/thriller starring (confusingly) former Cat Girl, Barbara Shelley.

Rich old lady Ella Venable (Catherine Lacey) has barely finished drafting her last will and testament before she’s bludgeoned to death by a mystery assailant, her nasty death watched by her faithful feline pet, Tabitha. The mystery assailant doesn’t stay a mystery for long, though – it’s Ella’s butler, Andrew (Andrew Crawford). Isn’t it always? But if that’s not much of a surprise, what happens next might be. Because the whole household is then revealed to be in on this particular crime. Including Clara the maid (Freda Jackson) and Walter (Andre Morrel), Ella’s husband.

The nefarious gang bury the body in the garden, the only witness to their deeds the aforementioned cat. So Ella is reported missing.

The police and friend of the family (and journalist) Michael (Conrad Phillips) have their suspicions, as does Ella’s niece Elizabeth (Shelley), who comes home to help (Michael telling the police Walter “only married her for her money”). But they have no body, and no proof of foul play. Only Walter’s insistence that he is the rightful heir to Ella’s fortune, not the sanguine Elizabeth.

Meanwhile, the gang have become obsessed with finding, and killing, their one witness. The cat seems to have a supernatural power over them, with Walter admitting: “I’d like to brain it. I hate it!”

Working together, Elizabeth and Michael get things pretty much sussed out (“You seriously mean to tell me an ordinary domestic cat is terrorising three adults?”). This revelation is not rocket science, by the way – the cat has already made Walter bed-ridden and Michael’s face is covered in scratches. Plus every time anyone sees it they react in ever-more spectacular ways. The animal also won’t go near the killers, but is happy to snuggle up to Elizabeth.

As the paranoia ramps up, it seems like the cat is going to win this one, but then Walter brings in reinforcements. Edgar, Walter’s brother (Richard Warner), Jacob, Edgar’s son (William Lucas), and Jacob’s wife Louise (Vanda Godsell). Will the extra help do Walter any good? What do you think. Basically, the new arrivals are more cannon fodder for the cat’s hi-jinks, the animal celebrating as only cats can (ball of yarn, anyone?) as the hapless berks manage to accident themselves to death, one-by-one.

The Shadow Of The Cat is a mini monochrome marvel, a fun way of spending 80 minutes. There’s a lot of gothic flourishes and some nice touches (Michael suggesting “They’re only seeing a reflection of their own conscience” in the cat, as we see exactly that with the bad guys reflected in its eyes). And Elizabeth’s facial reactions to the goings-on are a joy. Walter and his family of wrong-uns are nicely drawn and the whole thing is wrapped up fairly satisfactorily. Purr-fectly, you might say.