The Case of the Exploding Loo Read Online Free Page A

in mind. My voice doesn’t even squeak, but she still gives me that look that shouts, “Big fat
liar”.
    I notice something while I’m shutting the drawers Uncle Max left open.
    “Hey, Holly! Fake Insurance Man took my brain ray sketches. Do you think that’s a clue?”
    “Definitely.” Holly pauses. “A clue he had to grab everything in a hurry.”
    Hmmph. I write it up anyway.
    CLUE 8
    Fake Insurance Man took the plans and sketches for the brain ray I’ve been developing with Dad.

6
Theories
    I’ve been considering the most important clues I’ve gathered so far and I have reached a conclusion:
    (RECAP)
    CLUE 1
    It is statistically unlikely Dad spontaneously combusted.
    +
    (RECAP)
    CLUE 3
    Smoking shoes are a movie/videogame device, not evidence.
    +
    (RECAP)
    CLUE 7
    Someone wants Dad’s belongings: cufflinks, underpants and all.
    =
    THEORY A
    SOMEONE HAS KIDNAPPED DAD
    When I call the police to share my theory, I get a shock. Dad’s disappearance has been officially downgraded to a “cold” case. At first, I think they’re
referring to the outdoor temperature at the Christmas market, but no. Apparently cases go “cold” when there are no more leads to follow, all suspects have been ruled out and all
evidence has been tested.
    “But Dad’s still missing,” I protest to PC Eric. “You’re the police. You’re supposed to find him.”
    PC Eric reveals my least favourite clue so far:
    CLUE 9
    Traces of Dad’s blood were found in burnt-out portaloo along with his shoes.
    “Your Dad hasn’t been seen for seven weeks,” PC Eric says gently. “My fellow officers have drawn the obvious conclusion.”
    “That conclusion is not obvious to me.”
    “It’s not necessarily what I believe either. But my hands are tied.”
    I stare at the phone in shocked silence. Who would do that to PC Eric?
    “Not literally,” he adds quickly. “What I mean is police procedure doesn’t always let me follow investigations as I’d like. But there’s nothing to stop you
making enquiries. Perhaps you’ll collect enough evidence to convince us to re-open the case.”
    “What about my suspect? Did you find out what Ms Grimm does when she’s not teaching at Butt’s Hill?”
    “Yes.”
    “And . . . ?” This is the answer everyone’s been waiting for. “What does she do when she’s not teaching at Butt’s Hill?”
    “She teaches at a school in Lindon.”
    That’s it? That’s my answer? When she’s not teaching, she’s teaching?
    Do I need a new suspect? Does the milkman count? How can I get a cold case warmed up again?
    “This cold case thing . . .” I say. “Does it mean I can have Dad’s shoes from the explosion?”
    “I don’t see why not. One of our officers will be popping round to explain the change in investigation status to your mother. I’ll ask him to bring the shoes.”
    I pace by the front door, twirling Uncle Max’s lighter between my fingers, waiting for the officer to arrive. My plan is to set fire to the shoes the minute the officer
hands them over, proving they couldn’t survive a blast that combusted an entire person.
    But things don’t work out the way I planned.
    Curry in a Hurry Man arrives just as PC2851 is heading across the front lawn, shoes in hand. Curry in a Hurry Man stumbles over something hidden in the unmown grass and knocks into the back of
PC2851, spilling curry all over his police uniform. During the confusion of curry, shouting and Mum having another nosebleed, the shoes vanish.
    I search everywhere, thrusting tissues at Mum and keeping a tight grip on PC2851’s jacket. He can’t leave before my shoe bonfire. He just can’t.
    But PC2851 uses his police skills to wriggle free and he races down our front path as if it were
his
shoes on fire.
    Of course, Dad’s shoes reappear within minutes of PC2851’s escape. Curry in a Hurry Man returns on his moped and explains that he picked them up by mistake. By mistake? A pair of
size tens? How is that possible? I