Inspector Rumblepants and the Case of the Golden Haggis Read Online Free PDF Page A

“The police are nincompoops, and ’twas easy to get away.”
    â€œThen, Count Tomat Le Ketchoop, if it goes according to our plan, I’ll reward ye with the kingdom of Wales, as we agreed,” said Prince to the Thief. The Prince extended his meaty hands out again to the Count, in order to get the sack.
    The Count giggled, “thrrrpp,” and he tossed over the sack. The Prince eagerly grabbed it and looked inside again, a huge smile appearing from behind his shaggy beard. He took the golden statue out of the bag, turning the statue around in his hands and letting the sunlight make it shine.
    From behind the Count came the sound of panting. The Count looked down and saw a small furry dog looking up at him. It was sitting at his ankles. The dog’s head cocked in a cute way, its big, soft eyes resting on the Count. It let out a little growl.
    â€œSuch a cute little doggy, your Highness,” said the Count, reaching down to pat the tiny dog.
    â€œNo, don’t!” shouted the Scotsman in warning. “That be the deadly killer highland fighting dog. That breed is owned only by royal princes of Scotland. It will have yer arm off in a second!” he warned.
    The Count looked at the little dog with doubt and shook his head. “But it is so tiny,” said the Count, puzzled, “and so very fluffy.”
    â€œThat breed of dog will bite yer ankles off in a jiffy,” the Prince cautioned again. “They can jump as high as yer waist, and they can do awful damage if they want to,” he added.
    The Count smiled politely, but he did not believe the Prince.
    â€œMany an Englishman has run screaming from the battlefield because my dogs have had their way,” the Prince added for effect. “Yes, the battle of Bannockburn was won only because we had five of the little buggers on our side, and they had not had their tea that morning!” He smiled fondly at the memory of the long-distant victory.
    The Count nodded. “Then I shall be careful of the wee doggies,” he said. “So now, your Highness—will you claim the Scottish throne, and then the British crown?” he asked, laughing wickedly as they returned to their business.
    â€œYes,” replied the Scottish Prince. “The rule is that a person with royal blood who holds the Golden Haggis is rightly the King of Scotland.” He could not take his eyes off the small Golden Haggis, which was gleaming in the morning sun. He growled, “I am the Prince of Dundee. But with the Golden Haggis in my possession, I will rule Scotland as king.”
    The Count chuckled and rubbed his hands with glee.
    â€œAnd once I am King of Scotland,” the Scotsman continued, “I will lead the mighty, brave armies of Scotland against the puny armies of the Queen of England. I will rule of all of the British Isles.” His chest inflated with ego. He looked from the statue to the sky, where his eyes could imagine more far-off victories and glories. “Eventually, the world will be mine.”
    After a moment, his gaze focused back on the Count. “And ye will be the Prince of Wales, my Count. Ye will be returned to your rightful glory and given as many sheep as ye can carry.” He paused for dramatic effect before continuing exuberantly. “When I invade Europe, I will give France and other nations to ye as my loyal lieutenant!”
    The Prince stopped to look around warily and then warned the Count, “But the coming weeks will be dangerous. No one must interfere with my plans until I am ready to take the Scottish throne. Luckily, the famous Sherlock Holmes and his dastardly assistant, Mr. Watson, are away on holiday, fishing on a lake in Spain. So nothing should get in the way of our plans.”
    He leaned close to the Count’s ear.
    â€œTo be safe,” the Prince whispered, “you and yer gypsies must prevent the police from discovering my plans! Otherwise, we will both find