by Adam Frost
Sybil winked at Wily and led Klara out of the vault, surrounded by other PSSST agents.
“Congratulations, Julius,” said Wily. “Sybil worked everything out. You’ve got a brilliant agent there.”
“Hmph,” said Julius again. “Well, she learned from the best. And it just goes to show – we don’t need your help. Don’t interfere with PSSST next time. Or EVER.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Wily.
Julius followed his agents out of the vault.
Albert turned to Wily. “When do you think Klara will realize that the puffin is a fake?”
The vault was pierced by a sudden ear-splitting…
“About now,” said Wily.
Wily was standing in Suzie La Pooch’s gallery in Paris, looking at two new paintings.
He heard the click of high-heeled shoes behind him and turned round.
“Do you like them, Mr Fox?” Suzie asked.
The first painting was of a frog catching a fly, the second was of a weasel chasing a rabbit.
“I’m sure I’ve seen them somewhere before,” said Wily with a smile.
“When Klara was arrested, all her paintings were seized by the government,” said Suzie. “I picked these up for next to nothing.”
Wily nodded.
“I see it as fair compensation – for my week in prison,” said Suzie.
Wily nodded again.
“So, Mr Fox, are you going to tell me how you did it?”
“Which part?” Wily asked.
“The last part,” said Suzie. “When you were about to be blasted to smithereens by a mega-torpedo.”
Wily smiled. “I had some help there. I knew about Klara’s lucky mascot. Oscar Otter had told me I could contact him if I needed his help. I put the two together – a missing mascot and an expert forger.”
“He could remake the fluffy puffin?” Suzie asked.
“He could try. He’d have art equipment – paint, fabric, stuffing, feathers. I knew Albert would be able to find the design online. I gave them a couple of extra details, like the fact it had one eye hanging out. Albert and Sybil whizzed across to the otter’s studio and they made the puffin in ten minutes flat. It didn’t have to be perfect. Just good enough to fool Klara for a minute or two.”
“Hmm,” said Suzie. “She’s probably pretty angry right now.”
Wily started to walk towards the door.
“Yes,” he said, “but she’s in Grimm Island Maximum Security Prison. And nobody’s ever broken out of there. Actually, that’s not strictly true. One animal has.”
“Oh yes? Who?” asked Suzie.
“Me,” said Wily, opening the door and walking out into the street.
He turned and smiled. “But that’s another story.”
Wily Fox, the world’s greatest detective, was in Italy on a very important case. The famous perfume maker, Adolfo Aroma, was launching a new scent and he desperately needed Wily’s help. Only a week before, there had been a mysterious break-in at Adolfo’s house. Nothing had been taken, but Adolfo was on the alert and he couldn’t let anything go wrong at the launch tonight. He’d called Wily in to keep a lookout for possible thieves, but Paulo Polecat, Adolfo’s new head of security, was not being very helpful. Wily wanted to look at the guest list, but Paulo insisted it was “top secret”.
“You’re getting right up my nose,” growled Wily.
“Well, you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” snarled Paulo.
Adolfo sighed. The rabbit’s ears wilted sadly. “Please try to work together, my friends,” he said.
Wily stared hard at Paulo. Paulo stared back.
“Fine,” said Paulo, and handed Wily a piece of paper.
“Much obliged,” Wily muttered.
“Fantastico!” exclaimed Adolfo.
Wily went and found a quiet corner of the room. He looked at the list – there were going to be at least a hundred guests.
He clipped on a headset and started to talk. “Albert, can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” replied Albert, his voice crackling in Wily’s ear.
Albert Mole helped Wily on all his cases. He worked behind the scenes, creating clever gadgets and providing Wily with important information. Right now he was in his secret laboratory underneath Wily’s office in London.
“I’m sharing the guest list with you,” said Wily. “Does anyone look suspicious?”
Wily held the piece of paper against his smartphone screen until it beeped.
Albert did a quick search. “Just three. Sending you their photos now.”
“The first is Bianca Badger,” said Albert. “Fashion reporter for the Pisan Gazette. Will do anything to get a story. That includes breaking the law.”
“She sounds fun.”
“Next is Joey Weasel,” said Albert. “Former New York gangster. Claims he’s now an honest businessman, working in fashion.”
“And what about the raccoon?” asked Wily.
“Actually she’s a red panda,” said Albert. “Rou Red Panda. Owns the biggest fashion and perfume store in China. Hard as nails. Business rivals don’t last long.”
“Thanks,” said Wily. “I’ll get the seating plan changed, so they’re all sitting near me.”
“Hang on, Wily, there’s … that’s strange… Hang up immediately!” Albert gasped. “This line is no longer secure. I repeat – this line is no longer secure.”
There was a click and then silence. Wily put away his phone. Someone had been listening in. But how? Albert was the best in the business – nobody had managed to tap their calls before.
Adolfo Aroma and Paulo Polecat appeared behind him.
“Happy with the guest list?” asked Adolfo.
“Sure,” said Wily. “I just need to make a couple of changes to the seating plan…”
It was showtime. The guests were all sitting in rows, chatting happily. At one end of the room there was a stage with a giant glittery SMELLISSIMO banner behind it.
In the first row sat Rou Red Panda, Joey Weasel and Bianca Badger. Wily was seated one row behind them, watching and listening as they talked.
“So, Joey, darling,” Bianca drawled, “how are you liking it in fashion?”
“I hear you want to buy Adolfo’s business,” added Rou.
“Is that right?” Joey replied. “Well, you shouldn’t believe everything you read in the papers. Especially hers.” He jabbed a furry finger at Bianca.
“For goodness’ sake, Joey,” sighed Bianca, “everybody knows you’d sell your own mother for a piece of Aroma’s empire.”
“And everybody knows you’d print any old rubbish to sell newspapers,” said Joey.
Their argument was interrupted by a drum roll. The lights went down and a voice boomed from a loudspeaker: “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present … Adolfo Aroma!”
Pink smoke filled the room and Adolfo appeared, dressed in a top hat and tails. He was accompanied by a pretty rabbit holding a bottle of aftershave on a cushion.
The audience cheered.
“And now,” declared Adolfo, “prepare your noses for the most scintillating scent, the most overwhelming odour, the most sensational smell of your lives. Smellissimo!”
Adolfo removed the cork from the bottle.
Glitter poured down on to the stage. Bianca Badger stood up and started to take photos. Wily glanced round to see if anyone was acting suspiciously – but everything seemed normal.
Until Adolfo and the young rabbit started coughing. Then the front row started to splutter and the perfume maker hit the stage with a thump.
Wily noticed a wisp of yellow smoke coming from the bottle. Then he was hit by the most revolting smell you could imagine. A mixture of old underpants, cowpats and rotten fish.
Everyone started running towards the doors. Rou, Joey and Bianca had all vanished. But Wily couldn’t worry about them now – he had to help Adolfo. He breathed in deeply. When he was investigating the Case of the Pirate Penguins, he had managed t
o hold his breath for four minutes. He might have to do even better now.
Wily pushed his way past upturned chairs and discarded handbags. His chest was getting tighter and his legs were getting weaker, but he kept on going, climbing over a passed-out piglet and an unconscious koala.
He looked up at Adolfo, slumped on the stage. The perfume maker’s chest had stopped moving. Wily thought quickly – his legs were starting to buckle, but his arms were still strong. He could use his acrobatic skills.
Wily gritted his teeth, crouched down and leaped through the air, landing on his arms. He pushed himself back up, did two backflips, a triple forward roll and landed right in the middle of the stage.
He picked up the stopper with his mouth, did another forward roll and – still holding the stopper with his teeth – pushed it into the bottle.
Instantly the yellow vapour seemed to disappear.
Wily relaxed and took a big gulp of air. Then he dropped the perfume bottle, kneeled down and tried to get Adolfo breathing again. Almost at once he felt himself being bundled out of the way. It was Paulo Polecat.
“Let me,” he growled.
Paulo pushed down on Adolfo’s chest until the rabbit spluttered.
“He’s going to be OK,” said Paulo, with a sigh of relief.
Wily nodded, trying to get his breath back.
“I saw what you did, Fox,” said Paulo. “You thought fast and moved even faster. Maybe you are good, after all.”
Wily shook his head. “Not that good. I have no idea who did this. Or why.”
At that moment, a young rabbit burst into the room.
“Adolfo! Adolfo!” she cried. “It’s gone!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Adam Frost writes children’s books full of jokes, animals, amazing gadgets – and ideally all three! When he was young, his favourite book was Roald Dahl’s Fantastic Mr Fox, so writing about fantastic foxes all day is pretty much his dream job. His previous books include Ralph the Magic Rabbit and Danny Danger and the Cosmic Remote.
www.adam-frost.com
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 2015
Text copyright © Adam Frost, 2015
Illustrations copyright © Emily Fox, 2015
eISBN: 978-1-84715-658-7
The right of Adam Frost and Emily Fox 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.
www.littletiger.co.uk