Eye Spy Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinking so often. That’s one of the drawbacks of being a twin.
    Outside the shopping mall some skateboarders were taking it in turns to shoot down the sloping tarmac path from the mall, building up speed all the while until, at the bottom, they’d soar into the air just in time to clear the raised flower bed, coming to a shuddering stop at last by the sea wall.
    We stopped to watch them. “They must have spent hours practising that trick,” Donna said. “Maybe they were here the day Kiki disappeared. Maybe they saw something.”
    One of them, a boy I recognised from the year above us at Lea Green, was circling on his board in front of the mall. He was showing off to a group of younger kids who were hanging around nearby, when he accidentally cannoned into an old woman and sent her flying. He was standing there, looking sheepish, while she gave him what-for, and to add to the confusion, a scruffy black mongrel was barking madly at him and trying to bite his legs. The old woman was still ranting at the boy as he took off down the slope with the dog in hot pursuit. Then the woman screeched, “Rockerfeller!” and the dog reluctantly returned to her side.
    The boy skidded to a stop beside his friend, who was waiting for him by the sea wall, and looked uneasily over his shoulder. “That old bird’s scary!” he panted. “Let’s go, before her mad dog changes his mind and comes after me!”
    â€œRelax, man!” I heard his friend say. “That’s only Crazy Kath. You tellin’ me you’re afraid of a bag lady?”
    â€œI don’t care who she is, she’s still scary! I’m out of here!” He shot off down the promenade, and his friend gave a shrug and followed him.
    Donna sighed. “How annoying. They might have been able to help. We’ve been here a whole hour, and so far we haven’t got anywhere.”
    â€œIt was just bad luck that the bag lady frightened them off,” I pointed out. “Let’s go up to the mall and ask some questions there.”
    The first person we saw when we got into the mall was Crazy Kath, pushing a huge, battered pram full of carrier bags and black sacks, with the dog still dancing around her feet. As we watched, she sat down on an empty seat next to a couple of girls, who immediately got up and walked away.
    â€œYou don’t have to go. I don’t bite!” she called after them. Then I had an idea. “Why don’t we ask
her
if she remembers anything?”
    Donna looked doubtful. “Has she even got a memory? She looks soft in the head to me. I bet that’s why she’s called Crazy Kath.” But we didn’t have many options left, and it was getting late, so, nervously, with one eye on the dog, we walked over to the bench and sat down beside her.
    The first thing I noticed about her was the smell. It was a combination of B.O., bad breath and unwashed clothes, and it made me feel queasy. Maybe this wasn’t such a bright idea after all. I could think of better ways of spending a Saturday afternoon.
    Kath was leaning against the back of the bench with her eyes closed. I sneaked a glance at her. It was difficult to guess what age she was. The skin on her face was as wrinkled as a walnut shell, but her hair was jet black with only a few grey streaks. She wore an ancient sheepskin jacket over a thick jumper, and corduroy trousers tucked into leather boots with broken zips. On her hands were fingerless mittens.
    After a few moments Kath sighed and opened her eyes. She noticed us staring at her and frowned.
    â€œWhat d’you want?” she muttered. It wasn’t an encouraging start.
    â€œEr… I was just admiring your dog,” said Donna. “Will he let me pat him?”
    It was the right thing to say. Kath’s face crinkled into a smile. “’Course he will! He’s ever so friendly, ain’t you, Rockerfeller?” She seemed to have