by Holly Webb
She drew one hand away from the mast and pulled the knife out of her skirt pocket. She opened it with trembling fingers and began to saw at the rope, her breath hissing with the effort. It seemed to take so long, each strand fraying and separating, and still so many more of them to go. But at last it broke, and the heavy wooden block slid off into her hands.
Jacob was stomping about below her, searching her out. If only he would stand still – just for a moment.
Maisie felt the block slide out of her hands, as though it wanted to help her. It struck Jacob on the side of the head, and he teetered and slowly dropped like a felled tree.
Miss Eccles screamed and let go of Alice. Still holding the lighted match, she turned to look up at Maisie. The yellow flame lit her face eerily, and Maisie shivered. She had never seen anyone look so angry…
And then Maisie heard a thundering of footsteps and a stream of policemen ran up the gangplank, with Maisie’s father at the front. As she edged her way down the mast, there was a clamour of voices below her.
“Stop right there!”
“Maisie, Maisie, where are you?”
Tower Bridge, a week later
“You’re going to stay, then?” Maisie murmured, leaning over the rail and staring at the river swirling below them. Tower Bridge was the closest crossing over the river to the docks, and she could see the forest of masts. The wind changed a little, and Maisie could swear she caught a whiff of brandy.
“Mmm-hmm,” said her father. “I was tired of life at sea. Never in one place long enough. But I didn’t ever think I could do anything else.” Her father brushed his red hair out of his eyes.
Maisie glanced up at him. “What are you going to do now?”
Her father smiled at her and dug into his jacket pocket. He was wearing a smart brown tweed suit and he didn’t look like a scruffy sailor any more. “I’m going to do what I’ve been doing for the last few months, Maisie. Only hopefully, people might pay me for it.” He pulled out a little leather card case, and handed Maisie a card.
“Hitchins and Hitchins,” she read, frowning. “Private Inquiry Agents… Discreet Inquiries in England or Abroad. Apply at 31 Albion Street, London.” The card was beautiful – creamy white, with the type neat and small.
A Detective Agency! Her own father, a proper consulting detective, like her hero Gilbert Carrington! And as for the other Hitchins… Maisie blushed proudly.
“I put an advertisement in all the papers, as well. Your gran says we can use the lodgers’ sitting room as our office and consulting room,” her father explained. “No one ever sits in it anyway, she says.” He put his hand over hers. “So will you be my partner, Maisie? You’ve solved more cases than I have. And that Inspector Grange, the one who arrested Miss Ivy, told me that you were a meddling little busybody who couldn’t keep her nose out. But then he grudgingly mentioned that occasionally you had been quite useful…”
“Quite useful!” Maisie squeaked indignantly, and Eddie let out a sharp little bark. “I caught a whole gang of ruthless art thieves for him!”
“He did admit that you had something to do with that one,” her father agreed. “Although he said that he was close behind you all the time.”
Maisie rolled her eyes. “So … I don’t have to go back to school? Gran said maybe I should, when you came home.”
“The professor wants to lend you books to read and talk to you about them,” her father explained. “He told me you were extremely intelligent. I’m sure you’d learn more from him than you would at school, to be honest.”
“Will you come and live at the house as well?” Maisie asked hopefully. “Oh … I suppose there isn’t the space. If Alice wasn’t with us, I could sleep with Gran and you could have my room. We telegraphed her father at all the ports where the ship will put in. They’ll be back in a few weeks, I’m sure.”
“That’s all right, I’ll be taking Noah’s rooms in a day or so. He’s missing the sea.”
“But his rheumatism!” Maisie shook her head. “I don’t think he ought to go back to working on a ship.” Mr Smith had recovered from being knocked out, but Maisie was sure he was looking older and more fragile than he had before.
Her father laughed. “He’s going to live in Brighton and run his own lodging house. He says he’s learned a lot from watching your gran, and he’s got a nest egg saved up to buy a house near the sea. He says London’s too dangerous. He wants a quiet life, he told me.” Daniel Hitchins looked worriedly at Maisie. “Would you rather go back to school? Are you tired of detecting?”
“Of course not!”
“You don’t think I’m stealing your thunder?”
Maisie beamed at him. “No. After all, I must have got the detecting from somewhere, mustn’t I? Gran always said you were terribly nosy as a little boy.”
Her father grinned. “I suppose I was. But I wanted to travel. I was curious about everything, that’s why I went to sea.”
“Discreet Inquiries in England or Abroad…” Maisie repeated.
“Exactly. After all, my first mystery started in China. And wouldn’t you like to see the world, Maisie?”
Maisie gazed down the river at the lines of masts. An excited laugh bubbled inside her, and suddenly she threw her arms around her father’s waist – the first time she had hugged him since that night at the docks.
“I would,” she told him. “I really would.”
The Case of the
Stolen Sixpence
When Maisie rescues an abandoned puppy, he quickly leads her to her first case. George, the butcher’s boy, has been sacked for stealing, but Maisie’s sure he’s innocent. It’s time for Maisie to put her detective skills to the test as she follows the trail of the missing money…
The Case of the
Vanishing Emerald
When star-of-the-stage Sarah Massey comes to visit, Maisie senses a mystery. Sarah is distraught – her fiancé has given her a priceless emerald necklace and now it’s gone missing. Maisie sets out to investigate, but nothing is what it seems in the theatrical world of make-believe…
The Case of the
Phantom Cat
Maisie has been invited to the country as a companion for her best friend, Alice. But as soon as the girls arrive, they are warned that the manor house they’re staying in is haunted. With Alice terrified by the strange goings-on, it’s up to Maisie to prove there’s no such thing as ghosts…
The Case of the
Feathered Mask
Maisie loves to look at the amazing objects her friend Professor Tobin has collected on his travels around the world. But when a thief steals a rare and valuable wooden mask, leaving only a feather behind, Maisie realizes she has a new mystery on her hands…
The Case of the
Secret Tunnel
Gran has a new lodger and Maisie suspects there’s more to him than meets the eye. Fred Grange says he works for a biscuit company, but he is out at odd hours and knows nothing about biscuits! Determined to uncover the truth, Maisie is drawn into a mystery that takes her deep underground…
The Case of the
Spilled Ink
Alice has gone missing from her new boarding school, and it’s up to Maisie to track her down before she ends up in real danger. Maisie suspects there is more to her friend’s disappearance than there first seems. But her only clues are an inkwell spilled across Alice’s desk and a trail of paw prints…
The Case of the
Blind Beetle
Lord Dacre, an old friend of Professor Tobin, has had his greatest treasure stolen – an ancient Egyptian scarab beetle. What’s more, someone is sending him threatening messages, and there is talk of a pharaoh’s curse… Can Maisie get to the bottom of the mystery and find the thief?
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
First published as an ebook by Stripes Publishing in 20
15.
Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2015
Illustrations copyright © Marion Lindsay, 2015
eISBN: 978-1-84715-629-7
The right of Holly Webb and Marion Lindsay to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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