The Heist at Niagara Falls

by Sir Steve Stevenson

Dash shivered, tugging his jacket. “How are we going to find tracks in that rocky terrain up ahead?” He traced the path with his flashlight. “There won’t be any mud on those boulders!”

  “We’ll think of something,” Agatha said.

  They struggled uphill. The trees gradually thinned out, yielding to lichens and thornbushes. Then the path disappeared into a pile of rubble, and the party was forced to stop.

  “Now comes the fun part.” Scarlett grinned.

  “You know, somehow I don’t call this fun,” replied Dash.

  “Turn off your flashlights for a minute. You’ll see quite a show!”

  They all obeyed, instinctively raising their eyes to the sky, where a billion bright stars swirled in luminous galaxies. Even the grumpy security guard from the Overlook gaped in wonder. It was a stirring sight.

  “Ahem, not to ruin the atmosphere . . . ,” Chandler observed, “but I think I see a light!”

  He pointed at a massive boulder at the crest of a steep hill about half a mile away.

  He was right: There was definitely a flashlight ahead! Its beam swept around in all directions as though the man holding it had lost his way.

  “Don’t turn your flashlights back on!” warned Scarlett. “If he spots us, he’ll turn his off and disappear into the darkness!”

  “What’s the plan?” asked Mr. Cornwell, crouching close to the ground.

  “I propose we surround him,” whispered the Mountie. “We’ll split into two groups: one to approach from the front, the other to come at him from behind.”

  They all agreed.

  The soft glow of starlight kept them from moving too fast, but the trio of the Mountie officer, Mr. Cornwell, and his goon negotiated the rocky slope skillfully.

  Scarlett led Chandler and the kids around the far side of the hill, all the while keeping her eye on the flickering light up above. Dash tripped over roots several times and was covered in scratches, but after a few more minutes they found an ideal hiding spot behind some large rocks near the path. They waited in silence.

  Suddenly they heard a gunshot, followed by incomprehensible shouting.

  Making his way with his flashlight, Ratmusqué careened down the slope at an incredible pace. Leaping from boulder to boulder, he bypassed the spot where Scarlett’s group waited, and zoomed out of sight.

  “No way! We lost him!” Dash moaned.

  “Follow his flashlight!” said Agatha.

  Scarlett and Chandler were the fastest and soon outran the two kids.

  Agatha and Dash picked their way carefully over loose gravel and found themselves in a narrow gorge with a foot of water on the bottom. It was so dark they kept losing their balance.

  “What now?” asked Dash. “What should we do?”

  “Try tracking him with your EyeNet.”

  Dash sat on a boulder and triggered the infrared to search for heat sources. A circle of light appeared on the screen. “Found him!” he exclaimed, only to correct himself a moment later. “No, it just flew up into a tree. Must have been an owl . . .”

  “There’s tons of wild animals in these woods. Try some other function,” said Agatha.

  “Like what?”

  A flash of cleverness lit up her face. “If my memory serves me correctly, you said you had a new function that can align satellites,” she said. “If you can direct one to our coordinates, it will probably only see one source of light . . .”

  “Ratmusqué’s flashlight!”

  “Exactly, cousin.” Agatha smiled. “Exactly.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Revelations

  On the second try, Dash managed to enter the right coordinates. He waited impatiently, mumbling in frustration. “You’re as slow as a Game Boy. Get moving!” he ordered his EyeNet. Then his voice dropped into a trembling whisper. “Agatha? I could be wrong, but I think that flashlight is right behind us . . .”

  The two kids turned around quickly and were blinded by a bright beam of light. Dash screamed in fright and the echo bounced off the gorge’s rock walls, amplifying it dramatically.

  That scream was effectively the end of Ratmusqué’s escape.

  The thief tried to dodge through the narrow gorge, but Scarlett and Chandler were waiting for him. Quick on his feet, he reversed his direction, but the hotel team had run toward the scream and were blocking his way. The Mountie fired a warning shot into the sky.

  Ratmusqué was arrested without a word.

  The Mountie handcuffed him and read him his rights in a solemn voice, accompanied by shouts of triumph from the others.

  “Great job, kids!” Mr. Cornwell beamed. “Without you, who knows where he would have fled!”

  Dash and Agatha were still too dazed to respond. Scarlett and Chandler made their way up the gorge, and the cousins ran over to meet them. “We did it!” Dash cried excitedly. “We caught the uncatchable Ratmusqué!”

  There was only one problem. Where had he hidden the package of jewels?

  As they made their way back to the cars, Mr. Cornwell showered the prisoner with questions, but Ratmusqué remained stone-faced and mute as a fish.

  “He thinks he’s smart keeping quiet, but the police will be able to make him talk,” Mr. Cornwell said, giving up.

  It was after midnight when they arrived back at the cottage, exhausted.

  “We should let Madame Hofstetter know,” said Agatha.

  “Even though we haven’t recovered her jewels yet, she’ll be relieved that we’ve captured Ratmusqué,” agreed Chandler.

  Dash had collapsed onto a deck chair. He took out his EyeNet and scrolled through the contacts, groaning at the slow signal. “Arrrgh, the EyeNet is taking forever today!”

  Hearing these words, Ratmusqué shifted around in his handcuffs. “RM53,” he said.

  “Did you say something?” asked Dash, still distracted.

  “Shut up!” threatened the guard with the gun.

  Agatha’s ears pricked up. “RM53? Where have I heard that before?” she said to herself. “Of course! On the plane to New York, we were talking about the head of sector minus five, who gave us the mission briefing . . . But what does Ratmusqué have to do with Agent RM53?”

  “What’s going on?” asked Scarlett, concerned. “Agatha, you’re as pale as a ghost. Are you all right?”

  Agatha didn’t even hear her cousin. Her brain was working overtime, running through every single thing that had happened since they began the investigation. When she put all the pieces together and understood the truth, she looked at the faces of everyone present. They had made an enormous mistake!

  She sidled over to Chandler and whispered something in his ear. The butler looked startled but managed to keep his composure.

  It was time to reveal who really stole Madame Hofstetter’s jewels!

  “Everyone, your attention please!” announced Agatha, positioning herself in the center of the deck. She realized her voice was trembling with emotion and tried to compose herself.

  The Mountie looked at her sympathetically. “Don’t be scared, Agatha. There are three more patrolmen on their way,” he reassured her.

  “Who will they arrest?” she asked.

  “That’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” The hotel manager sneered. “All the evidence points to Ratmusqué!”

  Agatha touched her nose. It was the signal she had agreed on with Chandler.

  The ex-boxer balled his huge hands into fists and took out Mr. Cornwell and the Mountie with two well-placed punches. They fell to the ground as if hit by a train.

  A split second later, Ratmusqué used his agile feet to knock the gun out of the Mountie’s holster, sending it into the lake with a well-placed swift kick.

  The security guard was about to jump onto the butler, but Agatha stepped in front of him with her hands raised. “Not so fast,” she said calml
y. “We’ve got something to show you.”

  “What do we have to show him?” Dash looked completely confused.

  Agatha winked. “Where the jewels are hidden, dear cousin! Let this man go!”

  Scarlett had no clue what was going on, but she trusted Agatha implicitly, so she bent over the Mountie, retrieving the key to Ratmusqué’s handcuffs.

  “You’ll be our witness, sir,” said Agatha to the security guard. “What’s your name, by the way?”

  “Smith,” muttered the man. “Bob Smith.”

  “Watch this, Mr. Smith!” Agatha approached the Mountie’s horse and pulled a FedEx parcel from one of the saddlebags. She returned to the deck and opened it carefully, peeling back layers of Bubble Wrap until something twinkled.

  It was chock-full of jewels!

  “You see, our two culprits were clever,” Agatha explained. “They worked on their plan for months, trying to frame someone who would look guilty because of his criminal past—”

  “Back up,” interrupted Dash, who still didn’t understand how Agatha had discovered the stolen goods. “How did the jewels get out of the safe?”

  “Mr. Cornwell stole the magnetic cards from the dressing room while Madame Hofstetter was making her entrance onstage. Then he took advantage of his freedom of movement around the hotel to steal her jewels, put them in a package, and send it to this address via FedEx.”

  “Did he leave the scrap of muskrat fur in Madame Hofstetter’s room?” asked Chandler.

  “Of course,” Agatha replied promptly. “Using the excuse that he was going to order us something to eat, he dropped it next to the safe where Watson was playing . . .”

  “So where does the Mountie come in?” asked Dash, scratching his head.

  Agatha gave a little smile and turned to the guard. “Mr. Smith, did Mr. Cornwell place any cell phone calls as we were approaching the cottage?” she asked.

  He thought for a moment. “Yeah, but I got no clue who he was talking to.”

  “He was calling our friend on horseback, who we ran into ‘by accident’ right down the road,” confirmed Agatha. “Don’t you think that’s a strange coincidence?”

  The guard nodded, impassive. Scarlett looked impressed.

  “The Mountie was in cahoots with Mr. Cornwell from the very beginning,” Agatha continued. “The officer was on his way here to retrieve the package he’d mailed, and when his accomplice warned him of our arrival, he came to intercept us. He asked us to wait at the boat launch. When he entered the cottage, he pointed his gun at Ratmusqué, who escaped through the window. Agent RM53 told us in his message that he was engaged in an active mission . . . He’d probably just come back home when he found a mysterious package of jewels in his mailbox and was wondering where they had come from and what he should do. Isn’t that right, Agent RM53?”

  Ratmusqué, aka Rick Moriarty, took a step forward, finally able to speak without compromising himself. “I gave up the world of crime years ago, and became the new head of sector minus five for Eye International,” he revealed. “But these two thieves couldn’t possibly have known that—I’m deep undercover. Bad luck for them!”

  Beads of sweat appeared on Dash’s forehead. “You . . . you’re the agent who gave us the details of the mission?” he asked in astonishment.

  “Precisely, colleague.” He smiled. “I’m sorry the line was so bad when I sent you the briefing. I was investigating a dogsled hijacking in an Inuit village up near the Arctic Circle! When you landed in New York, I was on my way back to Muskoka by seaplane.”

  The Mountie and hotel manager stirred; they were regaining consciousness. The security guard, Bob Smith, had one last question. “But why was the cabin covered in clues? The photos, the plans . . .”

  “The officer put them there,” replied Agatha. “He had all the material needed to frame Ratmusqué in his saddlebags, and he spread it out on the table when Ratmusqué escaped. I bet he thought he’d made a great trade: a package of jewels for a pile of false evidence.”

  The sound of police sirens came from the distance.

  “Are you ready to be our witness, Mr. Smith?” asked Agatha.

  “I got to admit, I’m still pretty confused.” The guard hesitated. “But you got me convinced, miss. Besides, Mr. Cornwell was a lousy boss . . .”

  They all laughed, and Chandler prepared the two culprits for police interrogation, waking the Mountie by throwing a bucket of lake water in his face.

  As he scooped up a second bucket, Bob Smith tapped his arm. “Can I?”

  Chandler nodded, handing it the security guard.

  “This one’s for you, boss!” Bob said with a grin, splashing Mr. Cornwell with icy water.

  While the two thieves fumed about the meddlers who’d ruined their perfect crime, Ratmusqué took Dash and Agatha out on the dock.

  “You two make an unbeatable team!” he congratulated them. “I’ll be sure to tell the top brass at Eye International about the danger I ran into. Without your help, I would have been in real trouble!”

  “I just came along for moral support,” Agatha said modestly. “All the credit for the happy ending to this investigation goes to Eye International Agent DM14!”

  Dash felt a shiver of pride running up his spine. “The top brass?” he whispered. “Thank you so much, Agent RM53!” Then he looked at the package of jewels, grabbed Agatha by the arms, and jumped up and down with excitement. The whole dock was shaking.

  “Victory dance!” Dash shouted, grinning. “We Misterys are an unbeatable team!”

  EPILOGUE

  Mystery Solved . . .

  Scarlett’s van zigzagged between the many lakes of Muskoka. It was early morning, and the slanting sun cast a golden glow over the autumn leaves. A long V of Canada geese flew overhead, heading south.

  “Can’t we stay for a few days of vacation?” begged Dash, basking in the success of their mission. “Muskoka is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen!”

  “You know what your mother would say,” Agatha cautioned him. “If she discovers you’re out having fun instead of completing a mission for school, she’ll strangle you!”

  Dash smirked. “She’s so busy shopping that she wouldn’t notice if I disappeared!”

  “We could make a short stop in Niagara Falls to say good-bye to Madame Hofstetter,” Chandler suggested, the tips of his ears flushing pink.

  Dash and Agatha grinned.

  “Look at you, Romeo!” Dash teased. “I’m sorry to have to remind you, but your . . . umm . . . lady friend flew to Kansas City this morning for the next leg of her tour. Heartbreak hotel.”

  “Don’t be cruel, Dash,” Scarlett said with a grin. “Madame Hofstetter promised Agatha that she’d come to the Mistery Estate for a private performance. If I’m in the right hemisphere, I’ll do my best to swing by and sit with her fan club . . .”

  The butler blushed and scratched Watson’s head a little too roughly, eliciting an operatic hiss.

  The scenery sped by as they continued to chat. Agatha was aware that once they arrived in Toronto, they’d have to say good-bye to Scarlett and take the next flight back to London. She’d miss her adventurous cousin.

  Scarlett and Dash were reliving the highlights of the previous night.

  “Chandler’s double knockout was amazing!”

  “Did you see what a wimp Mr. Cornwell turned out to be?”

  “I knew there was something fishy about him. Who wears a cravat?”

  “I want to go back to Dark-Sky Preserve!”

  After a while, they were all talked out. The magnificent scenery kept unfurling before their eyes, red maples yielding to pines. When the camper van crested a hill with a breathtaking view of the lake, Scarlett pulled over. “What do you say we take a photo to remember this by?” she suggested.

  She walked out onto a flat rock and se
t up her camera and tripod. As she was adjusting the automatic settings, Dash’s EyeNet let out an earsplitting shriek.

  “Excuse me, guys, that will be the top brass at my school calling to congratulate me,” he gloated, polishing his nails on his jacket. He grabbed the device and answered with a smooth, “Agent DM14 at your service. Who, may I ask, is calling?”

  The others watched as his smug expression turned to a cringe.

  “Uh, um . . . I assure you that isn’t true . . .” He sounded embarrassed.

  Who could it be?

  Dash ran his hand through his hair. “Why aren’t I at home?” he exclaimed. “Uh, because I’m with Agatha. Yes, we’re at the Mistery Estate . . . Yes, um, doing homework of course!”

  The enigma was getting more interesting. Agatha struggled to suppress a giggle.

  “Mr. Marlowe?” he yelled suddenly. “He was the one taking surveillance photos on my terrace! I jumped into a Dumpster to lose him!”

  Remembering the stink of the clothes he’d arrived in, the others began laughing harder. Dash covered the EyeNet with one hand.

  “What?! You were the one in the pub with the blond wig and sunglasses?” The young detective groaned. “Mom, that’s a violation of privacy . . . Okay, yes, we’ll deal with this when I get home . . . Soon! Don’t ask me when, I’m not done yet!”

  He pulled the EyeNet away from his ear, and everyone could hear his mother’s angry shouting.

  “Agatha, talk to her, please!” Dash begged.

  Agatha took the device and did her best to reassure her aunt. “Dash is staying at my place tonight. I’m helping him with a research assignment on Canada,” she lied. “We’re watching a great documentary! But tomorrow, Auntie, I’ll send him back home, clean and fragrant!”

  The voice on the other end sounded polite by the time she hung up.

  “So, Dash, the notorious spies taking photos of you were your neighbor and your mom?” Agatha couldn’t hold back her guffaws. “Those are some serious criminal masterminds! It’s a conspiracy!”

  Scarlett and Chandler were laughing so hard they almost fell off the cliff.