The Fangs of the Dragon Read Online Free PDF Page A

away.’
    Twenty minutes later, a clapped-out old banger of a car chugged and shuddered on to the small paved drive in front of my house. I suppose it made sense that a bloke as scruffy as Ed Foster
should have a seriously rubbish car like that. Owner and vehicle in perfect harmony.
    Unfortunately, Ed had brought Charlie with him. I’d been hoping he wouldn’t, but it was too late now. I’d just have to risk it.
    This whole meeting was a risk. I needed to show Ed some of the shredded remains of the comic. I was hoping he wouldn’t realise exactly what it was I was showing him.
    Ed and Charlie came out to my shed. I took just two of the shreds out of my filing cabinet, as Ed perched on my desk. The moment Charlie saw them, he started to shuffle nervously. He realised at
once that I must have followed him into the school office. I tried not to give away the fact that I knew that he knew that I knew what these shreds were. I told myself to play it cool.
    So now, here comes that vital second question. ‘What can you tell me about these?’ I asked Ed, handing him the two shreds.
    He frowned, then raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, they’re shredded paper,’ he said.
    My heart was thumping. I needed to establish the age of these shreds. It was central to the whole case. I also needed to choose my words very, very carefully, or I’d have a gibbering wreck
of a comic collector on my hands. ‘I mean, can you tell me anything about the paper? I only ask because you know a lot about whether some types of paper are old or new.’
    Ed examined the shreds up close, turning to hold them up to the light coming through the shed’s perspex window. ‘Well, this could be standard comic book stock,’ he said at
last. ‘You see the way the coloured ink there is printed in tiny dots? That was certainly what you’d see on older comics.’
    I glanced over at Charlie. He’d gone as pale as a ghost in a snowstorm.
    ‘So . . . the paper . . . itself . . .’ I said.
    ‘Oh, that’s not old,’ he said confidently.
    I snapped to attention. ‘It’s not? That’s not from a very old comic book?’
    ‘No way,’ said Ed. ‘What on earth makes you think it is? No, if you put old pulp paper through a modern shredder, you end up with a load of little bits, not neat shreds like
this. I told you, that old paper is really delicate.’
    Aha Number Two!
    And it wasn’t the ‘aha’ I’d been expecting. The age of that paper was indeed central to the whole case, but in a way I hadn’t quite foreseen. Suddenly, the theories
I’d been working on in my head needed to be reversed.
    ‘That’s it!’ I declared. ‘I’ve solved the case!’
    ‘Really?’ cried Ed, grinning. ‘So where’s my comic book?’
    Charlie had turned almost see-through, he was so pale. If he hadn’t been leaning on the lawnmower in the corner of the shed, I think he’d have fallen over.
    ‘I’ll explain everything when we get to Rippa’s shop,’ I said.
    ‘It’s closed today,’ said Ed.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘He’s going to America,’ said Ed.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘The International Comics Convention in Los Angeles,’ said Ed. ‘It starts tomorrow.’
    Now it was my turn to go pale. I leaned against my Thinking Chair to stop myself falling over.
    ‘Of course,’ I gasped. ‘ That’s what he’s been saving up for.’
    ‘Sure, it’s an expensive trip,’ shrugged Ed. ‘Are you telling me he’s got my comic?’
    I nodded. Charlie stared at me, open-mouthed with relief.
    ‘Right!’ declared Ed. ‘When he gets back, I’ll —’
    ‘No, you don’t understand!’ I cried. ‘We have to stop him going, or you’ll never see that comic again!’
    ‘Impossible,’ wailed Ed. ‘If the flight hasn’t already gone, it’ll be going soon.’
    ‘What about your car?’ I said. ‘It’s only twenty miles to the airport from here.’
    ‘Impossible,’ wailed Ed. ‘The radiator’s bust. It’s got a leak that needs to be sealed. At the moment, that car’s got