29
GOING HOME
It was late August. Griffin packed his suitcase, one much nicer than the one he’d arrived with.
The summer he’d spent with his uncle had proved to be one of the most exciting he’d ever had. After the Clock Tower Mystery, they’d had several other cases together, and so many had come through their door that Griffin had even had to solve a few completely on his own!
He was sad to leave. Over the last few months, the apartment on Baker Street had truly become his home. He missed his parents, and he was very excited to see them. But he’d also found family here in London, and he knew that he would miss his uncle terribly. Part of him wished he could stay in England and finish school here, but he was sure his parents would never agree to that.
Down the hall, Toby barked, his signal to Watts that someone was at the door. The robot had been modified to recognize the hound’s bark and marched over to greet the visitors. Griffin swung off of his bed and, with his trusty stick in hand, limped carefully down the hall.
Mr. and Mrs. Dent were standing in the entryway. When they caught sight of Griffin, they smiled.
“Hello, young man!” Mrs. Dent said. And, to his surprise, she embraced him in a warm hug. Griffin smiled too. It was so good to see her happy again.
Snodgrass entered, wiping his hands on a towel. Griffin could tell that he’d been working on his latest invention, the Chrono-Teleporter. It was truly shaping up to be an amazing device, possibly his uncle’s greatest invention. When he’d told him about it, Griffin had been amused to hear that it didn’t have “Snodgrass” in its title at all.
“Mr. and Mrs. Dent! This is a surprise,” said Snodgrass warmly. “What can we do for you?”
Mr. Dent beamed at the detective. “We felt that we never had a chance to thank you properly and wanted to express just how much we appreciate what you’ve done for us.”
He removed two small packages from his pocket and handed one to Rupert and one to Griffin. “It’s a small token of my esteem, a trifle really,” said Mr. Dent.
Mrs. Dent interrupted, “Don’t be ridiculous, Frederick.” She turned to Griffin and his uncle and said, “My husband is being modest. He has been working on those for several weeks. You’ll find that they are truly remarkable and, in my opinion, some of his very best work.”
Griffin opened the box and saw glittering there a beautiful gold pocket watch. Lifting the watch, he saw etched on its outer surface a perfect illustration of Big Ben, and as he opened the lid, “Westminster Chimes” tinkled gently from its hidden depths.
It was beautiful—a true work of art.
“Mr. Dent, I don’t know what to say,” Snodgrass said. Griffin glanced at his uncle and saw that he was as overcome with the Dents’ generosity as he was.
Mr. Dent beamed. “A simple thank you will more than suffice. I owe you gentlemen everything.” He looked at Mrs. Dent and gave her shoulders a quick squeeze. “You not only saved my life, but saved everything important to me. For that, I shall be eternally in your debt.”
Griffin recovered from his shock and thanked Mr. Dent. After the happy couple left the apartment, he and his uncle compared their incredible new timepieces. They both felt like true gentlemen!
Snodgrass opened his watch and set the time. But in doing so, his smile faded. He turned to Griffin and said, “My goodness, it’s nearly three o’clock. We must get you to the train station.”
Griffin’s heart sank. He couldn’t believe that it was time to go back home to America. He thought of the school year that was about to start, returning to the same horrible bullying he faced every year. Although the adventures over the summer had made him feel much more capable of defending himself, he dreaded the end of his trip.
Griffin and his uncle didn’t say anything as Griffin went to get his suitcase, but they each knew how the other was feeling. It was going to be hard to say good-bye.
Suddenly there was another knock at the door. Outside was a boy in a bright red uniform. Griffin saw that he carried a telegram in his hand.
“Telegram for Mr. Griffin Sharpe,” the boy said.
Griffin signed the acceptance form with a puzzled frown. Who could possibly be sending him a telegram?
His uncle gave the delivery boy a tip and closed the door. Griffin opened the letter and read:
Mr. Griffin Sharpe
221A Baker Street
London, England
Dear Mr. Sharpe,
It is with great regret that I inform you that your parents have been reported missing. On July 30th, investigators were alerted to an incident at your Boston residence. Upon arriving, there was evidence of a struggle, and Mr. and Mrs. Sharpe were nowhere to be found.
The police are baffled and have assigned every available investigator to the case. I encourage you to use caution when returning to America, for there was a threatening note left on the premises that mentioned you by name and was signed with the initials N.M.
Please seek me out upon your return.
Yours sincerely,
John H. Andover, Attorney
Griffin stared at the letter with a dawning sense of horror. There was no mistake about who had kidnapped his parents.
Nigel Moriarty had exacted his revenge!
Rupert Snodgrass read the note with a grim expression. Then he turned to Griffin and said, “We won’t let this crime go unpunished, Griffin. I’ll make immediate arrangements to travel with you to America. We’ll find your parents and bring Nigel Moriarty to justice!”
And as Griffin rose from where he was sitting, with Nigel Moriarty’s ebony swordstick clutched firmly in his hand, he knew with absolute certainty that his battle with the terrible villain was far from over.
A few hours later Griffin Sharpe and Rupert Snodgrass, the greatest detectives in London, boarded a ship for Boston. The rumpled detective with his brown bowler led a beautiful hound on a leash and was accompanied by his nephew, a young man of unique abilities who carried an unusual walking stick and walked with a limp.
And as they walked up the gangplank, the city was left unprotected.
There were eyes watching them as they left the dock, the glittering, intelligent eyes of an old spider that was forever spinning its web.
Professor James Moriarty chuckled quietly. Then, as his steam-powered wheelchair rolled slowly away from the docks, he hummed a quiet tune. He felt happy, happier than he had in ages now that Sherlock Holmes had retired, and Snodgrass and Sharpe were out of the way.
His plan was working perfectly.
HOW SHARPE ARE YOU?
See if you can answer the following questions without checking the book. If you can get them all right, you’re on your way to becoming the next Griffin Sharpe!
1. When we first meet Griffin, we find out that he notices everything. What are some of the things he does when he feels nervous?
2. Many people think that Big Ben is the name of the Westminster Clock Tower. What does Big Ben actually refer to?
3. Griffin takes a cab ride to a place called the Limehouse Docks. When he enters a store filled with fireworks, the Chinese woman who runs it greets him using the Chinese word for hello. Can you remember what she said?
4. Rupert Snodgrass has made many inventions that are similar to devices that we have today. His Snodgrass Falsehood Detector and his Snodgrass Super Finder are things that exist in our modern age. What do we call them today?
5. In the Sherlock Holmes stories, Professor Moriarity is often referred to as the “Napoleon of Crime.” Why do you think he was called that? Bonus question: Nigel Moriarty referred to himself as La Salle. Do you know who he was?
6. In Victorian England, people hired horses and buggies to get from place to place. Today, we call cars that do the same thing taxis. What were they commonly called back then?
7. What was Griffin’s father’s job? How do you think it affected Griffin’s beliefs?
8. Rupert Snodgrass is not a Christian. How do you think that affected Gri
ffin? How do you think Christians should act around nonbelievers?
9. Griffin’s faith in God is a big part of his life. How do you think it affected the way he looked at people who needed his help?
10. Some people believe that the Loch Ness Monster is real. In this story, it’s actually a submarine. What was it about the submarine that made it look so much like a monster?
11. Sometimes we can be so concerned with ourselves and the way we look to others that we forget about other people’s feelings. Do you think Sherlock Holmes should have told Rupert that he couldn’t find his dog sooner? Why or why not?
12. Rupert Snodgrass named his robot Watts. Why do you think he chose that name?
13. For many years, Rupert Snodgrass hated living next door to Sherlock Holmes. Have you ever felt jealous of other people’s talents or abilities?
14. God gives us different gifts. If you were to help Griffin and his uncle solve crimes, what do you think you’d have to offer? What part of their adventures would you look forward to the most?
Extra Credit
You can be a detective in your own home! Ask a brother, sister, or friend to play. Take turns hiding something somewhere, and then provide clues on how to find it. It’s a great way to test your observation skills and see how well you match up to Griffin Sharpe!
THE COMPOSER’S WILL
A Griffin Sharpe Mini-Mystery
Griffin Sharpe limped into the elegant living room, his walking stick making a small clicking noise as it tapped against the hardwood floor.
“Master Sharpe, so good of you to come!” said a young woman. Griffin smiled and shook her gloved hand.
Beatrice Thompson was pretty and about five years older than he was. Her eyes were large and brown, and she had an interesting brooch at her neck. Griffin saw that it was carved with the likeness of a honeybee.
“I like your brooch,” he said. “Apis mellifera, correct?”
The girl appeared confused. Griffin smiled and said, “It’s the scientific name for honeybee.”
She brightened. “Oh yes,” she said, her hand going to the brooch. “My father gave it to me when I was young. He always said I was his little Bea.”
At the mention of her father, Griffin noticed her expression change. Her lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. Griffin felt sorry for her and offered her his clean handkerchief. Since the incident with Mrs. Dent, he’d found it useful to carry one when dealing with clients who were involved in a difficult or emotional case.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. “It’s been hard not having my father around anymore.”
Griffin gave her a compassionate look. Then he said gently, “I understand that there was some trouble with his estate?”
The girl nodded. “Yes, you see, my father was a great composer and had saved quite a fortune over the years. After he died, there were a lot of arguments about who was entitled to his money because he didn’t leave a will. My uncle feels he’s entitled to all of it and, if he has his wishes, he would see me thrown out into the streets.”
“And where is your uncle now?”
“He’s at a law office in London. If he can make his case to a barrister, he feels that he could have this house and my father’s fortune handed to him within twenty-four hours!”
Griffin considered the situation. Then he asked, “Did your father express his dying wishes in any way? Did you have any conversations with him about what he wanted done with his money?”
“No, but he did give me this before he died,” she said, handing Griffin a piece of paper. “It was the last piece of music he ever composed. He wrote it on his deathbed, and it’s a terrible shame that he never had the chance to finish it.”
Griffin saw that it was a piece of music titled “To Whom My Treasure Goes.” It was a very short piece of music. Griffin saw only three notes positioned on the musical staff.
A single chord.
“Rest assured, Miss Beatrice,” Griffin said smiling. “The fortune is yours.”
How did Griffin know?
Turn to Answers To Griffin Sharpe Mini-Mysteries at the back of the book for the answer.
THE CASE OF THE TEXAS
SHARPSHOOTER
A Griffin Sharpe Mini-Mystery
Griffin Sharpe and his uncle, the famous crime-fighting inventor Rupert Snodgrass, were attending a special event by invitation of the Queen. Ace McQuarrie, a gunslinger from Texas, was putting on a shooting exhibition, proving himself the greatest sharpshooter in the world.
Griffin had barely slept for a week because he was so excited to see the event. And when the day finally arrived, he was relieved to see that it had dawned crisp and clear without the slightest chance of rain.
After arriving at the palace, Griffin made his way to a row of reserved seats on the immense lawn. He and his uncle were dressed in their best clothes, and although his stiff new collar felt itchy, Griffin tried his best to ignore it. He glanced eagerly around the platform erected in front of him, hoping to get a glimpse of Mr. McQuarrie.
“They say he served with General Custer,” Griffin whispered to his uncle.
“Custard? He served custard?” came his uncle’s confused reply.
Griffin snickered. Sometimes he forgot that his uncle was British and didn’t know American celebrities.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said a man in a fancy top hat. He waved his hands dramatically for silence as he walked onto the platform.
Griffin craned his neck to get a better view. He noticed that the stage was covered with stationary targets of various shapes and sizes. Some were large, and some were so small he wondered how anyone could be skillful enough to see them, let alone hit them with a bullet.
“It is my honor to introduce the fastest gun in the West. My friend Ace McQuarrie has bested the best, slapping leather with the quickest guns in Texas. What you’re about to see is his most ambitious display of skill to date. Within the space of three seconds, he will destroy all of these targets on this stage, culminating with a perfect shot through the center of this card.”
The man held up an ace of spades and tucked it into the brim of his hat. “I assure you that I am not concerned for my personal safety, for my friend Ace has never missed.” Then he gulped theatrically and added for comedic effect, “Yet.”
Ripples of laughter scattered through the crowd. Griffin noticed that even the Queen was smiling.
“So it is without further ado I introduce . . . Ace McQuarrie!”
A man clad in flashy buckskin and a tall, white cowboy hat climbed up onto the stage. Griffin clapped with the others. The man waved his big hat in appreciation, his white teeth sparkling from underneath his flowing blond moustache.
After a gracious nod to the Queen, he took his position. Griffin saw his hand poised over the side of his six-shooter, ready to fire.
The man in the top hat took out his timer. Then, in a loud voice, he boomed, “Ready, Ace?”
The cowboy nodded.
“One . . . two . . . three . . . GO!”
There was a burst of gunfire. One by one the targets exploded or ricocheted as the bullets hit them. Griffin watched as a pan clanged, a bell rang, three plates exploded, and a thimble, almost too small to see, flew off of a fence railing.
And last, just as the stopwatch hit three seconds, the card from the man’s top hat flew from his head and fluttered to the ground. The crowd shouted in amazement as the man held up the card, a perfect hole drilled through the center of the ace.
Ace McQuarrie doffed his hat to the thunderous applause. But Rupert Snodgrass noticed that his nephew was the only one who wasn’t clapping.
“What’s the matter, Griffin?” Snodgrass asked. “You weren’t impressed?”
“I would have been,” said Griffin, “if he hadn’t cheated.”
What did Griffin know?
Turn to Answers To Griffin Sharpe Mini-Mysteries at the back of the book for the answer.
ANSWERS TO
GRIFFIN SHARPE
MINI-MYSTERIES
ANSWER TO “THE COMPOSER’S WILL”
When Griffin saw the notes on the musical staff, he recognized exactly what they were: B E A. The letters formed the nickname Bea, short for Beatrice. When this was presented in court, the judge ruled in favor of Miss Thompson, and she was awarded the entirety of her father’s estate.
ANSWER TO
“THE CASE OF THE TEXAS SHARPSHOOTER”
Griffin counted the shots. One at the pan, one at the bell, three at the plates, one at the target, and one at the card. Seven shots. Considering that the man held only a six-shooter, such a feat was impossible. Shortly after the contest, Griffin followed the clues and found evidence of a second shooter hidden behind a tree, the source of the extra shot.
MRS. TOTTINGHAM’S
DELICIOUS SCONE RECIPE
(Griffin Sharpe’s favorite)
(The following is a recipe passed down from the original Mrs. Tottingham. Her great-granddaughter Eloise assures me that it is exactly the same one Griffin Sharpe loved so much.)
2 cups of flour
1 tablespoon of baking powder
1/2 teaspoon of salt
3 tablespoons of sugar
5 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter cut into cubes
1 cup of milk
Sift together flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar. Cut in the butter until the dough looks crumbly. Add in milk and stir gently.
Press dough onto lightly floured surface. Cut into squares and then half them into triangle shapes.
Bake on an ungreased cookie sheet at 400 degrees Fahrenheit for 15 to 20 minutes.
No Place Like Holmes Page 13