by jeff brown
1. A Royal Mission
2. The Missing Ring
3. Getting Ready
4. Welcome to the Palace!
5. Flat as a Pancake
6. Stanley Lambchop, Super Spy
7. Twin Rings
8. High Above London
What You Need to Know About England and the Queen!
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About the Authors and Artist
Books by Jeff Brown
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
A Royal Mission
Stanley Lambchop loved Saturday mornings. He loved waking up without an alarm clock. He loved staying in his pajamas instead of getting dressed. He loved watching cartoons with his younger brother, Arthur. And he especially loved eating waffles for breakfast.
“That’s enough syrup, Stanley,” said his mother, Mrs. Lambchop. There was already a big puddle on his plate.
“Okay, Mom.” Stanley put down the bottle of syrup and picked up his knife and fork. The phone rang as he was about to take his first bite.
Mrs. Lambchop frowned. “Who on earth is calling at this hour?”
Stanley didn’t care if it was too early for anyone to call their house. He had to grab that phone before Arthur did! Both brothers always liked to answer first.
“I got it!” Stanley sprang out of his chair. He raced across the kitchen toward the ringing phone. Arthur was already way ahead of him!
Mr. Lambchop was standing between the boys and the phone, pouring more batter into the waffle maker.
The thick batter moved slowly.
Arthur waited for his father to step out of the way.
Meanwhile, Stanley slipped around him and kept on running! He never knew when being flat would come in handy.
Ever since a bulletin board had fallen off his bedroom wall and onto him, Stanley had been barely thicker than a piece of paper. He could fit easily into tight corners and small spaces. Being flat had made him famous, too. Flat Stanley had traveled all over the world!
Stanley grabbed the phone before it rang again.
“Hello!” he said, a little out of breath.
“Hello?” a voice replied. It sounded crackly and far away. It also had an accent, which Stanley could tell by the way the caller said his name. “May I speak to Stonley Lombchop, please?”
“This is he,” said Stanley, as his mother had taught him.
“Jolly good, Mr. Lombchop,” said the voice. “I am calling with an important request.”
“Um . . . yes . . . jolly good,” said Stanley. “May I ask who’s calling, please?”
“This is Detective James Bates, from Scotland Yard.”
Stanley almost dropped the phone.
Scotland Yard was the most famous police force in the whole world. It was not in Scotland, though, which was a little confusing. It was actually in London!
Detective Bates kept talking. “Her Mojesty, the queen, would like your help.”
“Her Majesty, the queen of England?” Stanley blurted out.
That got his whole family’s attention.
“The queen of England?” repeated Mrs. Lambchop. She motioned for Stanley to give her the phone.
Stanley tried to explain. “The queen isn’t on the phone. It’s someone calling for the queen . . .” But his mother took the phone and started talking. After that, he could only hear one half of the conversation.
“Mmm-hmm,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “We could do that. The boys have a school vacation coming up.”
She was quiet for a minute.
Detective Bates said something Stanley couldn’t hear.
“That would be perfect!” said Mrs. Lambchop.
She was quiet while the detective spoke again.
“Yes, yes,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “We will be ready tomorrow. Tip-top. Cheerio!”
Stanley knew they spoke English in England, but maybe it wasn’t like the English he already knew. Stanley had never heard his mother use those words before. He had never heard anyone use those words before!
Mrs. Lambchop hung up the phone and turned to her family. “It’s a special case,” she explained. “Detective Bates would not say much on the phone. But he has an important job for Stanley. We’re leaving for London tomorrow!”
Stanley was so excited that he forgot all about his waffles. He was going to spend this Saturday morning packing his suitcase!
By Monday morning the Lambchops were in London, riding on a bright red double-decker bus. Stanley and Arthur had the front seat on the top level. Stanley felt dizzy whenever he looked down. And wait—was the bus tipping over? He planted his feet firmly for support. Being flat meant that Stanley was very light. He did not want to fly out of his seat!
Arthur saw what he was doing. “Don’t worry, Stanley!” he said. “The bus is only going around a corner.”
Some of London’s streets were so narrow, the bus could barely fit. Stanley knew London was an old city. Of course, the streets were built before there even were buses, he thought.
Stanley looked out the window. Now they were passing a park. Up ahead, there was a long stone building. It looked like a really fancy school, he thought. Or maybe a fortress.
His mother tapped him on the shoulder. “Look!” she said.
Stanley turned around.
“No, not at me!” his mother said. “In front of you! It’s Big Ben!”
She pointed to that same stone building. Now Stanley noticed a tall clock tower sticking out of one corner. A picture of this clock tower was on the cover of their guidebook!
“Big Ben is a London landmark!” his mother said.
Just then, the clock in the tower began to chime. Stanley counted eleven gongs of the giant bell. It was eleven o’clock! They were supposed to be at Scotland Yard by now.
Luckily, just then Mr. Lambchop said, “Here we are, boys,” and the bus came to a stop.
Stanley thought they had arrived at a regular office building. Then he saw a spinning sign that said New Scotland Yard.
They were here!
“Some of London’s best-known crimes have been solved at Scotland Yard,” Stanley told Arthur. “Even Sherlock Holmes worked with Scotland Yard, and he was one of the greatest detectives of all time!” Stanley could not wait to hear about this case.
Detective Bates was waiting for them at the door. He was wearing a neat gray suit with a blue tie, and his accent was clearer than ever. “Glod to meet you, Stonley,” he said, shaking Stanley’s hand. “So hoppy to hove your help!”
The Missing Ring
“This way to the lift,” Detective Bates told the Lambchops. They followed him down a hallway and into an elevator.
“I think the ‘lift’ must be the elevator,” Stanley whispered to Arthur as they were whisked to the twentieth floor.
“Come, hove a seat in my office,” Detective Bates said, inviting them in. “Would you like a spot of tea?” he asked Mr. and Mrs. Lambchop, pointing to a tea set on his desk.
What in the world did he mean? Stanley wondered. The tea cups had no spots on them at all!
He could not think too much about this question, though, because Detective Bates started explaining why he had called them here.
Detective Bates cleared his throat. “As you may know,” he began, “the queen of England is no longer young. When she dies, a new king—her son—will take part in the traditional coronation ceremony. That is when he will take charge of the throne and the crown. Only the queen knows that something will be missing from that ceremony.” He lowered his voice and added, “Well, the queen . . . and someone else.”
Stanley and Arthur looked at each other, confused. “What do you mean?” Stanley asked.
The detective continued. “Throughout history, the crown jewels have been an important part of the coronation ceremony. One by one, they are given to the new king or queen. Each one of them stands for one part of the ruler’s power. For some time, however, the queen has kept a secret. The set of crown jewels is not complete.”
“One of them was stolen?” Arthur asked.
“Not exactly,” said Detective Bates. “Usually the crown jewels are locked away, but the royal family may also use them for special occasions. It was after one family wedding that the Windsor Ring vanished. The queen has never laid eyes on it again.”
“The Windsor Ring?” Stanley repeated.
“The Windsor Ring,” Detective Bates repeated sadly. “It has been treasured by the royal family for centuries. It features an unusual group of gems. A blue sapphire, a white diamond, and a red ruby—now the colors of our British flog.”
When the detective glanced at a small flagpole in the corner of the office, Stanley figured out what he was saying. He heard “flog,” but Detective Bates was talking about a flag!
“The queen’s cousin, Lady Laura, was the one who borrowed the ring. She claims she returned it to the vault after the wedding. Since then, she has been spotted many times wearing a colorful ring. But no one has been able to determine if it is really the missing one.”
Detective Bates got to his point. “The queen does not want to embarrass her cousin. But this mystery has gone on long enough! Time is running out, and the queen wants the ring back before the next king is crowned. Stonley, how would you like to go on a spy mission?”
“No fair!” Arthur answered before Stanley could say a word. “I want to go, too!”
Detective Bates put a hand up to stop him. “Your family will stay together at all times,” he promised Arthur. “But only Stonley will be working to solve the mystery.”
He explained the plan. Or, as he called it, “the plon.”
Lady Laura, who lived far outside of London, was making a visit to the city. She would be attending a formal ball at Buckingham Palace—where the queen lived—with many other members of the royal family.
“If Lady Laura has the ring,” Detective Bates said, “this will be the perfect time to wear it. The queen is in poor health, so she will not be attending the ball. No one else knows about the missing ring. Lady Laura will think the coast is clear.”
“So . . . where do I come in?” Stanley asked.
“You, Stonley, will be attending the ball,” said Detective Bates. “Guests like Lady Laura will think you’re there— with your family—as a famous guest.” He paused and added, “I understand you are well known around the world. On account of your being . . . er . . . flot.”
Stanley looked modestly at the floor. “A lot of people know who I am,” he had to agree.
“You will be the perfect spy!” the detective exclaimed. “No one will guess you are undercover. But as you mingle with the guests, you can keep an eye on Lady Laura. You can get a close look at her jewelry. And if she is wearing an unusual ring, you can use a special tool—which I will give you—to determine if it is truly the Windsor Ring.”
Detective Bates looked at Stanley, waiting for his reply. Stanley was excited about the mission, but he couldn’t help thinking about the detective’s accent. He didn’t mean to be rude. He just couldn’t stop himself before these words came out of his mouth: “I’d be really glod to do it!”
Detective Bates did not seem to notice, though. He just thumped Stanley on the back and said, “Bright chop! I will see you at the ball.”
A “chop,” Stanley soon learned, was a chap. That was what English people said instead of “guy.” Wherever the Lambchops went in London, someone was calling Stanley a chap.
“There’s a fine chap,” said a taxi driver, giving Flat Stanley a strange look.
“The queue starts here, young chap,” said a ticket seller at Westminster Abbey.
Any English chap, Stanley discovered, knew that a queue was a line.
And the line to get in to Westminster Abbey, a cathedral in the middle of London, was really long. “Do we have to do all this sightseeing today? Can we come here tomorrow instead?” Arthur asked.
“Tomorrow we’ll be going to the ball,” said Mrs. Lambchop. “We don’t have much time to see all the great places in London, and I want us to get in as much as we can.” So the family waited a whole hour to get in, and Stanley was glad they did.
Westminster Abbey was a huge church with soaring ceilings and stained glass windows. Stanley figured that at least twenty double-decker buses could fit inside, although they might have trouble parking with so many stone pillars in the way.
Mr. Lambchop led the family inside. “Westminster Abbey is one of the biggest churches in London,” he explained. “It is also where a lot of history actually happened.”
It turned out that every English king or queen had been crowned in Westminster Abbey for over a thousand years. And that coronation ceremony Detective Bates had mentioned? It took place right here! Stanley could hardly believe it.
Someday soon, the new king would sit on the wooden throne—a large, engraved chair, really—that stood in a quiet corner of Westminster Abbey. For the ceremony, he would need all of the crown jewels, including the Windsor Ring.
And the coronation was only one kind of ceremony that happened in Westminster Abbey. “Kings are crowned here,” Mr. Lambchop said, “but some are also married here, and others will stay here forever! Kings, queens, soldiers, writers, scientists, leaders . . . lots of them are buried right in the walls and the floor of the cathedral.”
Arthur shuddered. “They’re buried here?” he repeated. “That is so creepy!”
“Anyone up for a scavenger hunt?” said Mr. Lambchop. He handed each of the boys a list of famous tombs they could find. It was pretty creepy, Stanley had to admit. But it was also beautiful. There were dozens of names on the list, and as they searched for some of the tombs, they saw the wonderful architecture and glass windows throughout the cathedral.
But Westminster Abbey was not nearly as creepy as their next stop, the Tower of London.
The Tower of London was best known for being a terrible jail!
It was not that tall, but it had thick stone walls and sat at the edge of a river. Stanley imagined that the Tower would be hard to attack and easy to defend. Maybe that was why it was a good place to keep things locked up.
“Years ago, prisoners were locked in the Tower,” Mr. Lambchop said as they walked through.
“That’s correct,” their tour guide said. “But today, the crown jewels are kept there. They are on display for visitors to see, protected by thick glass and many guards.
“And the crown jewels are not all jewels, either, but also other objects that had meaning for the royal family. Swords, trumpets, robes,” she said. “Plus crowns, of course.” She led the family to the glass cases, where the jewels glittered under bright lights.
Stanley’s jaw dropped when he saw them. There was a crown encrusted with brilliant gems. There was an ancient sword that looked so sharp, no one would believe it was not brand-new. Stanley could see why these things would be important for anyone, especially a king or queen. It wasn’t just that they were priceless. It was that each one also had a long history, connecting a new monarch to the past.
Without the Windsor Ring, though, a link in that chain was missing. It was up to Stanley Lambchop to fix it!
Getting Ready
Stanley loved sightseeing, but he couldn’t wait to start his mission. And there was one important thing to do before he could attend a ball at Buckingham Palace. He had to find something to wear!
The next morning, Mr. Lambchop led the way down a long escalator that took the family beneath the city of London. “Welcome to the Underground!” he said.
Arthur looked at the tunnel ahead of him. “Yes, we are definitely underground,” he agreed. “But this does not look like a place to buy clothes.”
Mr. Lambchop l
aughed. “That is because this is the way to the store,” he explained.
Stanley noticed something as his eyes adjusted to the light. This was not just any tunnel. It was a train tunnel!
“The London Underground is the city’s subway,” Mrs. Lambchop told the boys. “Some people also call it the Tube.”
Soon Stanley could feel a gust of wind coming from the end of the tunnel. He grabbed on to Arthur to steady himself as he saw a silver subway train gliding into the station. The doors opened, and people stepped out of the train. A voice came over a loudspeaker. “Mind the gap!” it said.
Mind the gop, Stanley heard. The announcer sounded a lot like Detective Bates.
“What does that mean?” asked Arthur. “What gap?”
“The space between the train and the platform,” said Mrs. Lambchop.
Stanley looked down and saw a small, thin gap, which he could easily slip through. Carefully, he stepped into the train, making sure he did not fall into that space. But he had a much bigger problem than the gap! The Tube was very crowded. There were people in every seat, plus people standing in every inch of space between the seats. They were holding on to poles and bars, making a web with their arms. Their feet made a maze on the floor.
“Excuse me,” Arthur said politely, edging into a tiny spot.
“Pardon me,” Mrs. Lambchop said as she reached above her head for a bar to hold on to.
Stanley slipped past a woman who was reading a magazine. He hopped over a briefcase that was sitting on the floor. By the time the train started moving again, he was leaning against the wall, blending into an advertising poster. He was quite comfortable, because he did not take up much room.
“Look!” said someone in the crowd. “Flat Stanley is performing in the Royal Theatre!” Suddenly everyone was looking at him. Well, actually they were looking at the poster behind him.
Stanley turned around to see it. It was an advertisement for an exciting new show. The way he was standing, it looked like he would be acting in the show himself!