The Case of the Stolen Film Read Online Free PDF

Bigsby firmly.
    Archie looked pleadingly at Holly. She could tell that he didn’t want to open it.
    â€˜Come on, Dad, we don’t want to disturb anyone,’ she said.
    â€˜Open the door,’ Mr Bigsby repeated sternly.
    Seeing no way to avoid it, Archie unlocked the door. ‘Bye, then,’ he said.
    Mr Bigsby pushed the door open and switched the light on. The hallway was a mess. Pictures lay smashed on the ground, a telephone table was on its side and the telephone ripped from the wall.
    â€˜What on earth?’ Mr Bigsby stepped inside.
    Holly looked at Archie but he refused to meet her gaze.
    They followed Mr Bigsby along the hallway into the front room, which was in as bad a state as the hallway. The sofa was on its side, scraps of paper and old magazines lay strewn across the floor and Holly noticed that the frosted glass in the door was cracked.
    â€˜She’s not usually so bad,’ Archie said. ‘Sometimesshe’s a great mum, you know, laughing and joking and messing about. Other times she gets all miserable and it’s like nothing you can say or do will cheer her up. But recently she started getting really angry and shouting horrible stuff. I hid because I knew that it wouldn’t be long before she’d get over it and start crying again but she carried on screaming and it was late and I suppose one of the neighbours called the police and they couldn’t calm her down, so they took her away. Sectioned is what they call it. It’s when they have to lock you up because you’ve gone wrong in the head. They would have taken me too but I ran …’
    Tears fell down his face and Holly became aware of her own eyes welling up. She swallowed hard to avoid crying and turned to her dad, who had gone quiet.
    â€˜Come on,’ he said gently.
    â€˜Where are we going?’ said Holly.
    â€˜We’re going home,’ he replied. ‘All of us.’
    They returned in silence.
    As Mr Bigsby turned the car into Elliot Drive, Holly noticed that another car had taken the space in front of their house. Grumbling to himself, her dad parked a few doors down.
    â€˜You’ll stay with us tonight, Archie,’ he said, switching off the engine. ‘It’s late. I’ll decide what to do with you tomorrow.’
    â€˜Thanks,’ said Archie, getting out and accidentally slamming the door behind him.
    â€˜Be quiet,’ Mr Bigsby said, scowling. ‘And utter silence on the way in. Believe me, you do not want Bridget to wake up.’
    â€˜I think it might be too late,’ said Holly. ‘We didn’t leave the hall light on, did we?’
    As she said it, the living-room light came on too. Through the net curtains they saw the silhouette of a man.
    â€˜It’s a burglar,’ gasped Holly.
    â€˜No it’s not,’ replied her dad, stopping in front of the car that was parked in his space. Holly recognised it too. It was Brant Buchanan’s customised Bentley.
    Holly’s dad marched them all to the front door. As he opened it, Brant Buchanan’s driver, Weaver, stepped into the hallway. His appearance was no less smart than usual considering the lateness of the hour. His black hair looked as if it had been painted on and his grey suit, shirt and tie matched his slip-on shoes exactly.
    Big Hair’s voice came from the kitchen. ‘How do you take your coffee, Mr Weaver?’
    Weaver nodded a cursory greeting at Mr Bigsby then looked at Holly and Archie unsmilingly. ‘Black, no sugar,’ he responded. ‘And it’s just Weaver.’
    Big Hair appeared holding two mugs of coffee. She was wearing a white dressing gown. Her hair looked messy from sleep. ‘I can’t think where Malcolm could have got to …’ Seeing her husband she stopped. Her gaze fell on Holly. ‘I should have known you would have something to do with it,’ she said.
    â€˜It wasn’t Holly’s fault,’ said her