Dognapped! Read Online Free PDF

pressed the button. ‘Hello, Beachview,’ I answered politely. ‘Can I help you?’
    ‘I’d like to speak to Mrs Carter, please. My name is Mr Mudlark.’
    Mr Mudlark. Gran’s competitor.
    ‘Who is it, Amy?’
    ‘Er … sorry … it’s Mr Mudlark.’ I passed Gran the phone and busied myself with my cellphone, pretending that I wasn’t listening, but from what I could gather from Gran’s end of the conversation, Mr Mudlark was offering his sympathy and saying he hoped Fluffy was found in time for the show.
    ‘How kind of Mr Mudlark to phone me,’ Gran said when she’d finished the call. ‘He’s a bit worried that some organised gang has taken Fluffy and that his dogs might be a target too. I’ve promised to let him know as soon as we hear anything.’
    ‘I thought you two were rivals,’ I said.
    ‘We are I suppose, which just makes his phone call even kinder.’
    Even more suspicious, I thought. It could be just a cover up, to see if anyone was on to him yet. ‘Does he live near here?’
    ‘About half an hour away, in Frimplea.’ Gran stared at me. ‘Why all the questions, Amy?’
    Half an hour. Near enough to drive over here and let Fluffy loose to scupper her chances in the show next week. Or even to kidnap her. I didn’t say this to Gran, though; a good detective like me keeps things to herself. ‘No reason,’ I shrugged. But I decided that, as soon as I could, I’d take a trip over and stake out Mr Mudlark’s place.
    After lunch I slipped my micro-recorder into my jacket pocket and set off for the printers. I was hoping to bump into some of the neighbours so I could question them about Fluffy. People tend to get cagey when I whip out a notepad and pen as I talk to them. By taping the conversations instead, I could play back what people had said, listen to their tone of voice and pick up clues.
    Gran lent me Grandad’s old bike. It looked like it had come out of the ark, but got me around quicker than walking, and there was a basket on the back where I could put the flyers. I was just glad that none of my friends from back home could see me riding it. Especially Rory. He’d be doubled up.
    ‘Where are you going?’ Max yelled, leaning out of his bedroom window.
    For once I was pleased to see him. I could do with some help posting flyers. ‘To the printer to pick up some flyers about Fluffy. Then I’ve got to hand them out to stores and stuff. Want to come?’
    ‘You bet! Hang on while I get my bike.’
    He appeared at the back gate a couple of minutes later, with a blue bike that was a lot cooler than my sad effort. He glanced sympathetically at my bike.
    ‘It was Grandad’s,’ I told him. ‘You should see the bike I’ve got at home, a silver lowrider with chrome and alloy wheel trims, the lot.’
    Max didn’t seem impressed by this information. ‘You can borrow my sister’s bike if you like, she hardly uses it,’ he offered.
    ‘No thanks, this’ll be fine.’
    On the way, we saw a woman across the road, weeding her front garden. Max told me it was Mrs Crystal, Gran’s rival B&B owner.
    ‘I’m going to ask her some leading questions and tape her answers, so leave the talking to me,’ I told Max. I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket to switch on the micro-recorder, then started talking to Mrs Crystal about Fluffy. She was friendly, but said she hadn’t seen or heard anything suspicious. Not that she had the chance to say much, with Max’s constant chattering. I felt like gagging him.
    ‘I said to button it and leave the talking to me,’ I snapped as we rode off. ‘I don’t want the tape full of you talking nonsense.’
    ‘But you don’t know everyone, so why would they want to talk to you?’ Max argued. ‘Besides, I might have some important questions to ask too.’
    He had a point. I guess it was best if he approached people first, as he knew them. ‘Ok, well you can start off talking to them, then leave it to me unless you think of something really, really