Dear Scarlett Read Online Free PDF Page B

so.”
    “So why did they put him in prison?” asks Ellie.
    “They didn’t,” says Uncle Derek, staring at the rug, probably at the same spot as me. “He was on top-secret missions, all over the world. He needed a cover. Prison was perfect. They kept an imaginary ‘Quick’ Dick McNally in solitary confinement, so that he could spy for them.”
    Ellie lets out a squeak. I can’t make any noise at all but I stand up, as if my legs want to leave the room.
    “So yes, he stole things, but he wasn’t an ordinary, run-of-the-mill housebreaker. He stole for the government. He stole secrets. He … repatriated things. He was a secret-agent burglar, if you like. And Scarlett’s mum knew, but she’s not allowed totell anyone, even now, because she’d be breaking the Official Secrets Act.”
    I sit back down, or rather, my legs fold.
    “So how come she told Scarlett?” asks Ellie.
    I freeze, waiting for Uncle Derek to ask me, but he doesn’t. “He was Scarlett’s dad, it’s fair enough.” Uncle Derek turns to me. “How long ago did she tell you?”
    I take a deep breath but Ellie cuts in. “So what was all that about him being a jewel thief?” she asks.
    “Well, he might have started off that way – but essentially, he was an international safe-cracker, a very good one, and once he started to work for the government, he wasn’t even outside the law…”
    I reach for a picture of Dad that Mum’s put on the piano. There he sits, smiling, relaxed, lolling. He looks kind of ordinary.
    A spy?
    Today is getting really weird.
    “So how do
you
know?” Ellie says, asking the question that’s on the tip of my tongue.
    Uncle Derek clicks the stopwatch about five million times. “I’ve – worked it out, sort of, and things, you know, at work. This and that.”
    This time I stare at him.
    “I don’t believe you,” says Ellie. “If everyone’s signed the Official Secrets Act, then no one would tell you anything, unless you were supposed to know.”
    Uncle Derek flushes a deep beetroot. “He’s always been a part of my job,” he says to the rug.
    “What part?” I ask, remembering how Uncle Derek turned up so suddenly the day we first met him, the day we broke down; and how quickly he came round to tea, trailing Ellie behind him.
    “He was on my patch, I had to know,” says Uncle Derek. “I needed to know that he wasn’t just a jewel thief, that he was really a spy, otherwise when there was a burglary roundabouts, I’d have been knocking on Carole’s door instead of finding the real criminal.” Uncle Derek looks quite pleased with his explanation.
    “Crikey,” says Ellie.
    Uncle Derek’s talking again. “And – of course, there were enemies.”
    Ellie’s eyes widen. “International spies?”
    “Not spies so much as gangsters, and not all that international. Some of his jobs were here in Britain, and he upset some nasty characters onthe way past.” Uncle Derek takes a deep breath. “Spying isn’t all about the government. Some of it’s to do with uncovering corruption, and thwarting out-and-out lawbreaking. There was a big jewellery heist in South London; Dick McNally took the jewels back from under the thieves’ noses.”
    Uncle Derek stands up and throws a couple of punches into the air, as if downing an invisible criminal. “The Queenie Gang, they were called. They didn’t like it. There were a lot of threats after that. As a policeman, I needed to be on the lookout. Dick McNally was always vulnerable, they all knew about him, and we needed to keep you and your mum secret,” he says, looking at me.
    “Oooo,” says Ellie. “You mean someone might have been after Scarlett because of her dad?”
    “Yes,” says Uncle Derek. “But not any more, that’s all in the past. Though it’s odd that the solicitor brought you the tools now. Was there anything else with them?”
    I stare at Ellie. “No,” I say.
    It’s Ellie’s turn to stare at the rug. I don’t think she likes