Dognapped!

by Karen King

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he passed the dog to me with a concerned frown.

  ‘Making sure she gets found.’ Maisy-May wasn’t too happy about leaving Max and squirmed in my arms. I held her tight and ran over to the newsstand, placing her down on the ground just as she started barking wildly.

  ‘Now don’t run off,’ I told her.

  I quickly checked my clothes for dog hairs, then pushed open the door and walked into the store just as the policewoman walked out.

  I went straight to the chewing gum display by the window so I could watch what happened next. Maisy-May had now discovered the garbage bin and was foraging inside it, yapping with delight. The policewoman stopped, stared at the dog then reached down for her radio.

  I paid for the chewing gum and walked out of the shop just as the PC was radioing that she’d found Maisy-May. ‘Hey, you,’ she called as I walked past.

  I turned around and gave her a friendly smile. ‘Yes, officer?’

  ‘Did you notice this dog when you walked in?’

  I looked at Maisy-May and shook my head. ‘Can’t say that I did. Is she lost?’

  ‘Well, she was, but now it seems she’s found again.’ The policewoman went to grab Maisy-May’s collar, but Maisy squirmed out of her grip and went to run off. I reached out and grabbed her collar.

  ‘Thanks,’ the policewoman smiled at me as she scooped Maisy-May up into her arms. ‘This is a very valuable dog you know. The owner will be very relieved to have her back.’

  ‘Glad to help,’ I said.

  I walked over to the garages where Max was waiting for me.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve,’ he said admiringly.

  ‘You need it in this game,’ I told him, getting on my bike. ‘Race you home!’

  Gran was really stressing when I got home. She’d heard about Maisy-May being found and was worried sick about Fluffy.

  ‘Why did they let Maisy-May go and not Fluffy?’ she asked me. ‘Oh my poor baby, what on earth are they doing to her? It doesn’t bear thinking about!’

  ‘It sounds like Maisy-May wandered off by herself, Gran,’ I said. ‘Mr Mudlark probably forgot to lock her in the pen.’

  ‘The police suggested that, but he’s sure he locked it. He said the dogs were barking so loudly that he went to see what was going on, and that’s how he found her missing. He thinks he disturbed the thieves and Maisy managed to get free.’ Gran dabbed her eyes with a tissue, smudging one of her pencilled eyebrows. ‘Oh I wish Fluffy could escape too. I’d do anything to get her back. Anything.’

  ‘We’ll find her, Gran, you’ll see.’ I gave her a hug, which is not really my style, but I felt sorry for her. ‘Now how about a nice frothy coffee?’

  ‘Thank you, Amy. I know you’re a good girl, really,’ she sniffed.

  I wasn’t sure she’d think that if she knew that I was the one who’d taken Maisy-May. But I’d lost Fluffy and I was prepared to do whatever it took to get her back. Which is why, when I saw another ransom letter on the mat later that evening, I didn’t tell Gran about it. Instead, I quickly shoved it into my pocket and went up to my room to read it:

  The note looked like it had been made by the same person as before. I opened the ‘Fluffy File’ on my cellphone and checked out the photo I took of the original letter. Yes, it was definitely the same. Whoever made this didn’t have to worry, I wasn’t going to tell anyone at all. Especially Gran. And I’d definitely be at the ‘dog beach’ (wherever that was) at 8.30 pm tomorrow night, ready and waiting to catch the culprit.

  Chapter 10

  Blackmail

  Max and I had swapped cellphone numbers that afternoon, so I sent a text to him later that night to tell him what had happened. I also wanted to ask if I could come around the next morning to use his computer to print something out. His reply said to come around at ten when everyone else was out.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ he asked when I arrived at 10 am on the dot.

  ‘Set a trap for the blackmailer,’ I told him. ‘You have got a scanner haven’t you?’ I hadn’t thought to check that with him last night.

  ‘Yeah, the printer scans and photocopies. Why?’

  ‘Because we’re going to make some fake money to fool the blackmailer.’ I grinned at him. ‘Can you cut straight?’

  ‘I don’t need to, Dad’s got a paper trimmer. I’m not supposed to use it – Mum thinks I’m going to cut my fingers off – but she won’t be back for a couple of hours, so she’ll never know.’

  ‘Where are your sisters?’ Max had two step-sisters, both a few years older than him. I’d only caught a glimpse of one of them, dressed completely in black, with jet black hair, black make-up and a couple of face piercings.

  ‘At work. And Mum’s over the road, doing Mrs Crystal’s hair,’ Max replied. ‘She doesn’t like to leave me on my own … thinks I’m still a baby, but I told her I’d be fine for an hour or two.’

  ‘Great. Let’s get cracking then.’ I took the ransom note out of my pocket and showed it to Max. ‘Gran doesn’t know about this. It came last night. So, not a word to anyone, okay?’

  ‘She’ll be mad that you haven’t told her.’

  ‘She won’t ever know. I’ll meet the blackmailer tonight and get Fluffy back. Job done.’

  ‘How is this going to work? Where are you going to get £2000 from?’

  I grinned triumphantly and whipped a twenty pound note out of my pocket. ‘I’m going to make one hundred copies of this!’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Max didn’t look too impressed. ‘You reckon that will fool him, do you? And what about Fluffy? When the thief finds out the notes are fake, you won’t get her back.’

  ‘The thief could be a “her”,’ I snapped, stung at his lack of enthusiasm for my brilliant idea. ‘I do think that a good copy will stall the blackmailer for a while. Long enough for me to sneak up and take a photo of him – or her – on my cellphone. I can show it to the police, and they can trace the blackmailer and rescue Fluffy.’

  Now Max did look impressed. ‘That’s clever.’

  ‘I know,’ I said smugly, putting the ransom note back in my pocket. ‘Mind you, the blackmailer might not have Fluffy. The note could have been sent by someone who read about Fluffy going missing and thought they’d try to get some easy money out of Gran.’

  Max scowled. ‘That’s really nasty.’

  ‘But a strong possibility, which is why I don’t want Gran to see the note.’ I told him. ‘Any idea where the dog beach is?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a little beach the other side of the harbour. You have to go down some narrow steps to it. It’s called Craggmor Beach really, but it’s known as the dog beach ’cos it’s the only beach dogs are allowed on in the summer.’

  I thought about this. ‘So that means a local person must have written the note, because someone on holiday wouldn’t know about it being called the ‘dog beach’ would they?’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Right, now let’s get on with scanning in this banknote.’

  I scanned in the front of the twenty pound note. I could get three on each page. Then I scanned the back of the note and did three of those on another page, making sure they would match the fronts. Finally, I printed them out and glued the two pages together. Then, I colour-copied one page.

  ‘Where’s the trimmer?’ I asked Max. ‘I need to check that I’ve got the notes matched properly before I make all the copies.’

  ‘I’ll do it.’ Max took a small paper trimmer off the shelf, put it on the desk and carefully lined up the sheet of paper. A couple of minutes later he handed me three ‘twenty pound notes’.

  I took the real banknote out of the scanner and compared them. The paper quality was different, of course, but I folded the fakes up a bit to make them look more used. I thought they looked pretty convincing, but were they good enough to fool the blackmailer? There was only one way to find out.

  We printed out another thirty-three pages, which gave me two extra notes that I
could use to practise folding up. The ink was getting pretty faded by the time we got to the last couple of pages, but I didn’t figure the blackmailer would stay around to count them all – he, or she, wouldn’t want to draw attention to themselves.

  I practised folding the two spare notes. I finally, decided that folding them in four lengthwise and bending over the corners a couple of times, then opening them up again, gave the best effect.

  ‘Fold them like this, then put them in wads of two hundred pounds, with an elastic band around each wad,’ I told Max. ‘Make sure the faded copies are in the middle. Then we’ll put them all in a big envelope. Have you got a big envelope?’

  ‘Yep, Dad’s got everything.’ Max opened the desk drawer and took out a thick brown envelope.

  ‘Great. How about a carrier bag?’

  ‘Mum keeps some in a drawer in the kitchen.’ Max went off to get one, coming back a couple of minutes later holding a pink plastic carrier bag with a white heart in the middle. ‘It’s all I could find,’ he said defensively when I pulled a face at it.

  We’d just finished when we heard the front door open. I quickly shoved the carrier bag of ‘bank notes’ into the rucksack I’d brought with me.

  ‘I’m back, Max!’ Mrs Todd called. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘Yes, Amy is here. We’ve been on the computer.’

  ‘I’ll be off now, see you later.’ I told Max. I slipped the rucksack on my back. ‘Bye, Mrs Todd! Thanks for letting me use the computer.’

  ‘Hang on, Amy. Max said you have a laptop. Do you know if it’s a wireless one?’

  ‘Yes it is. But Gran hasn’t got internet access so I can’t use it,’ I told her.

  ‘You should be able to access the internet through our router, it’s a wireless one.’ Mrs Todd wrote something down on a piece of paper. ‘Here’s our password. We’ve got an MFV5. I’m sure you’ll be able to pick it up next door.’

  She was right, my laptop had picked up a MFV5 router, but it had been password protected. ‘Great!

  Thank you!’ I smiled. ‘I really appreciate it.’ Now I’d be able to surf the net, talk to my mates, and all from my bedroom at Gran’s. Brilliant!

  At eight that night, I told Gran I was going for a stroll and set off with the bag of fake money to meet the blackmailer. Max had been texting me all afternoon, begging to come with me, but I’d refused. I had no idea who the blackmailer was, or how many of them there were. It was safer to go alone, then I’d only have myself to look out for.

  Despite it being the height of the summer season, it was a bit chilly outside, so I was glad I’d brought my hoodie with me. I slipped it on, pulling up the hood, and hurried past the harbour to the beach. I looked at my watch. Ten past eight. I glanced around. Was the blackmailer watching me?

  Most of the shops were still open and the sea front was packed, but as I passed the harbour the crowds dwindled. I realised why the blackmailer had chosen this beach now; it was much quieter at this end of the town. I peered over the wall, the beach below was deserted. I ran down the narrow stone steps and looked around. There was nowhere for anyone to hide without being spotted, so I put the bag in the bin by the wall, as the note had said, and ran back up the steps. Where could I hide to keep an eye on what was going on? Across the road I saw three huge green bins lined up against the wall of the last shop. I hurried over and squeezed behind one of them, crouching down to watch out for the blackmailer. My heart was beating very fast now.

  I waited for ages, checking my watch every few minutes. Half past eight came and went. A couple of people walked past the wall, but no one went down the steps to the beach. At ten to nine I got a text message from Max:

  The note must have been sent by someone playing a stupid trick. I squeezed out from behind the bins, crossed the road and peered over the wall. The beach was empty. I ran down the steps and reached into the bin for the carrier bag. As I pulled it out, a hand clasped me on the shoulder. Someone had followed me down the steps! My heart racing, I spun round and found myself face to face with PC Lambard. He yanked down my hood and shook his head sorrowfully.

  ‘Well, Amy, I’m very disappointed in you. I can’t believe that you’ve been blackmailing your Gran.’

  ‘I didn’t. I haven’t. You’ve got it all wrong.’

  ‘Save it for the station, young lady. I’ll phone your Gran and tell her to meet us there.’ He held out his hand. ‘I’ll have the bag.’

  I looked at the bag, noticing for the first time that it was dark blue. ‘This isn’t the bag I left,’ I protested as PC Lambard snatched it out of my hand. ‘Mine was a pink one.’

  ‘Stop talking and start walking,’ he ordered. As he marched me up the steps, I glanced up and caught a brief glimpse of a pale, pointed face beneath a black beanie hat peering over the wall, but when we got to the top it was gone. If only I’d waited a few more minutes, we’d have caught the real blackmailer.

  When we got to the police station, PC Lambard took the envelope out of the bag and emptied it onto his desk. Piles of shredded newspaper tumbled out everywhere.

  ‘Did you really think we’d leave £2,000 in a litter bin for you to collect?’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t ask you to. I didn’t send the ransom letter. I went to the beach to meet the blackmailer,’ I explained. ‘I put a pink bag full of fake money in the bin.’ PC Lambard stood up straight and folded his arms. ‘A pink bag with fake money?’ he repeated, unconvinced by my story.

  Fortunately, I still had the ransom note and the spare two fake twenties in my pocket, so the mix-up was cleared up by the time Gran and her shadow, Mr Winkleberry, arrived. PC Lambard went back to the beach, but the bag of fake money had gone. He wasnvery pleased. ‘If anything else happens, you come to me instead of playing detective, or I’ll have you arrested for withholding evidence,’ he boomed.

  On the way home, Gran told me how they’d received a letter at lunch-time telling them to leave the money at 9.30 pm in the bin at the dog beach. The blackmailer must have changed his plan. I bet he was dead chuffed to see me being whisked away by PC Lambard. Gran said Mr Winkleberry had persuaded her to tell the police, so the officer had been watching for someone to go down the steps and take the bag of money from the bin. Then she gave me a lecture about acting irresponsibly and putting myself in danger. So did Mr Winkleberry. Then, when I got home and sent a text to Max, he phoned back and gave me a blasting too.

  ‘I told you I should have come with you,’ he said. ‘I could have kept watch and warned you about PC Lambard. And I might have seen the blackmailer.’

  ‘Yeah, and I’d have been in even more trouble for putting you in danger as well,’ I retorted. ‘Gran would have been so mad she’d have probably sent me back home on the next flight.’

  I went to sleep feeling pretty low I can tell you. I’d been so close to catching the blackmailer, maybe even the dognapper, and I’d blown it.

  Chapter 11

  Scarface

  I’m not one to be down for long, and I woke up the next morning feeling more positive. I’d gone up a few wrong tracks before I worked out who was sabotaging our baseball games back home, and even Vince Bronson didn’t always work out who the culprit was right away. I just had to keep trying.

  I wondered how long it had taken the culprit to realise that the bank notes were only copies. And when he – or she – found out, what did they do with them? They’d have to dump them somewhere. Maybe I should go back down to the ‘dog beach’ to see if I could find any clues.

  I waited until Gran was on the phone to one of her dog-breeder friends before making my exit. ‘Just going for a walk, I’ll be back soon!’ I waved, and was out of the back door before she could ask where I was going.

  ‘I’m coming too!’ Max announced, opening his back gate. I swear that boy had me tagged or something. I couldn’t seem to go anywhere without him. ‘I’ve been watching out for you,’ he said. ‘I thought you might try to sneak out without me.’

  ‘Detective work is
too dangerous for a kid like you,’ I told him. ‘I should never have let you get involved in the first place.’

  ‘Yeah, right! The only time you get caught is the time I’m not with you.’

  I had to admit he was right. And an extra pair of eyes might come in useful. ‘Okay. I’m going to the dog beach to see if the blackmailer has left any clues. Then I’m going to look around and see if the fake money has been dumped anywhere.’

  There were no clues on the beach and no sign of the twenty pound notes we’d made. I guess the blackmailer had checked out the envelope at home and dumped the notes in their own bin. Well, there was no way I could go around nosing in bins.

  ‘Let’s go for a milkshake and discuss what to do next,’ I told Max as we passed a burger bar. ‘Don’t worry, it’s my treat.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He grinned.

  We were sitting, drinking our milkshakes – strawberry for me and banana for Max – discussing whether we could eliminate any of the suspects, when Mr Winkleberry walked in. I had to look twice to make sure it was him; a burger bar was the last place I’d expect Mr W to visit. He seemed more the tea-and-cream-scones type to me. He walked by without noticing us; not really surprising as our table was partly concealed by a big palm tree-like plant. He ordered a coffee, then sat in the corner table, by the counter.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ Max whispered.

  ‘He’s waiting for someone by the look of it,’ I whispered back. ‘Try not to let him see us.’

  I kept an eye on the door and a few minutes later a pointy-faced man, with a scar running down one cheek and a black beanie on his head, walked in. He looked pretty similar to the man I saw peering over the wall last night. Mr Winkleberry raised his hand and the scar-faced man went over and sat down next to him. Mr W sprang up, ordered a coffee and a burger and handed them to Scarface, who started eating as if he hadn’t had a meal for a week.

  ‘I’m sure that’s the man I saw at the dog beach yesterday,’ I whispered to Max. I stared hard at the man. He looked as if he slept rough. Why was Mr Winkleberry meeting him? And why was he passing Scarface a wad of money?