#4 Spooky Ballet! (Agent Amelia)

by Michael Broad

  American edition published in 2011 by Darby Creek, a division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc.

  Copyright © 2009 by Michael Broad

  First published in 2009 by Andersen Press Limited,

  20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London SW1V 2SA

  www.andersenpress.co.uk

  www.michaelbroad.co.uk

  All rights reserved. International copyright secured. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc., except for the inclusion of brief quotations in an acknowledged review.

  Darby Creek

  A division of Lerner Publishing Group, Inc. 241

  First Avenue North

  Minneapolis, MN 55401 U.S.A.

  Website address: www.lernerbooks.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Broad, Michael.

  Spooky ballet! / written and illustrated by Michael Broad. — American ed.

  v. cm. — (Agent Amelia, #4)

  Summary: Young Amelia, a secret agent, investigates a class of entranced ballet students, a scarecrow that can control crows, and a librarian whose work on the school library’s computers seems to turn students into robots.

  Contents: The case of the spooky ballet — The case of the whistling scarecrow — The case of the gobbledygook books.

  ISBN: 978–0–7613–8059–7 (lib. bdg. : alk. paper) [1. Spies—Fiction. 2. Ballet dancing—Fiction. 3. Scarecrows—Fiction. 4. Computer crimes—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.B780834Fo 2011

  [E]—dc22

  2011001088

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  2 – BP – 3/31/12

  eISBN: 978-0-76138-065-8 (pdf)

  eISBN: 978-1-4677-6408-7 (ePub)

  eISBN: 978-1-46776-406-3 (mobi)

  The Case of the Spooky Ballet

  The Case of the Whistling Scarecrow

  The Case of the Gobbledygook Books

  I’M AMELIA KIDD and I’m a secret agent.

  Well, I’m not actually a secret agent. I don’t work for the government or anything. But I’ve saved the world loads of times from evil geniuses and criminal masterminds. There are loads of them around if you know what to look for.

  I’m really good at disguises. I make my own gadgets (which sometimes work), and I’m used to improvising in sticky situations—which you have to do all the time when you’re a secret agent.

  These are my Secret Agent Case Files.

  When you’re a secret agent, it’s always a good idea to have some martial-art skills. Evil geniuses and criminal masterminds can turn pretty nasty when you foil their plans to take over the world.

  The local community recreation center advertised loads of different classes in karate and jujitsu. After a week of dropping hints, Mom finally signed me up for an evening class!

  Although, she was very vague about exactly which martial art I would be studying…

  When we drove up to the rec center, there were already a few girls waiting around outside. I thought it was really cool that so many girls had signed up for martial arts. I did expect to see some boys though.

  “I’ll pick you up here in two hours,” Mom said cheerily, as I got out of the car.

  “But you still haven’t told me which…” I didn’t get to finish what I was saying because Mom waved enthusiastically and sped away. I couldn’t help noticing that she was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hmmm,” I thought. I pulled on my backpack and headed for the entrance.

  The group of girls were gathered around outside the doors. I froze on the spot when I heard a familiar voice coming from the middle of the huddle.

  It was loud and shrill and seemed to be demanding something.

  “Of course she’ll pick me!” it shrieked. “You all are like clumsy hippopotamuses!”

  As the girls backed away, I saw Trudy Hart at the center! Trudy is my arch nemesis at school. She’s not an evil genius or a criminal mastermind, but she is very spoiled and used to getting her way!

  When Trudy saw me coming toward them, she abandoned whatever she was yelling about and barged past the other girls. She strode up to me and poked me with her finger.

  “What are you doing here?” Trudy demanded.

  “I’m here for the class, of course,” I said calmly.

  “You’re training with Madam Giselle?” Trudy chuckled. “Well, this I have to see!”

  I was about to ask who Madam Giselle was when the doors to the rec center burst open. Standing in the doorway was a crooked old woman with a long black cane.

  “Enter!” she roared dramatically and then scuttled back inside.

  Trudy hurried forward to get inside before anyone else. I tagged along behind. Madam Giselle was obviously the class teacher, but I really couldn’t see her delivering a decent karate kick!

  Inside the hall everyone started getting changed. As the girls put up their hair, pulled on their tutus, and tied the ribbons on their satin shoes, everything suddenly became clear.

  My mom is always trying to make me do girly things like flower arranging or embroidery.

  She doesn’t know I’m a secret agent off saving the world all the time. Now she’d actually tricked me into taking ballet lessons!

  Seeing the girls fluffing out their identical pink tutus, it occurred to me that there was still a way out. I couldn’t be a ballerina in combat pants and running shoes. I quickly approached Madam Giselle.

  “Er, I don’t have a tutu or ballet shoes,” I sighed, pretending to look disappointed.

  “You must be Amelia Kidd,” sniffed Madam Giselle. She eyed me up and down.

  I nodded and tried to ignore Trudy making faces behind the old woman’s back.

  “I told your mother that all my dancers wear my own specially designed tutus and ballet shoes!” said Madam Giselle. She jabbed her cane at a mass of pink frills hanging on the wall behind her. “And those are yours!”

  “Great!” I sighed, taking down the dress.

  The other girls were chatting while I got changed. I soon discovered that as well as being in the wrong class, I was also several weeks behind. The girls were already dancing Swan Lake. Madam Giselle was about to select the prima ballerina—the star dancer.

  “And I’m also the most beautiful!” declared Trudy Hart. She had just listed all the reasons why she and no one else was qualified for prima ballerina status. “So there will be big trouble if Madam Giselle doesn’t pick me!”

  With everyone changed, Madam Giselle scuttled to the center of the studio. She tapped her black cane twice on the wooden floor.

  All the girls fluttered forward and stood in a line on tippy toes.

  I stumbled forward feeling miserable and weighed down by frills.

  Tugging at the tutu, I couldn’t help wondering why it was so heavy for something so frilly. I wondered if the “special design” included weights in the waistband, as it was also pretty lumpy. I was about to complain when Madam Giselle spoke.

  “The prima ballerina is the star of the show!” she said, with a faraway look in her eyes. “I was once the prima ballerina at the King’s Theater, until I was cut down in my prime! When I turned a mere seventy years old, they said I was too old….”

  “Oh, get on with it!” growled Trudy.

  Madam Giselle narrowed her eyes at Trudy. Then she waved the rest of her story away with an elegant swoosh of the hand.

  She smiled unconvincingly and then produced a large white tutu. It was twice as wide and frilly as the pink ones we were wearing and had two lengths of rib
bon hanging down the sides.

  Madam Giselle hobbled along the line of dancers. Each girl sighed heavily as the tutu passed by. When it eventually stopped at Trudy, it took all her effort not to snatch it from the old woman’s hands.

  “Trudy Hart,” said Madam Giselle. “You will be our star!”

  In a blur of movement, Trudy ripped off the pink tutu, tossed it over her shoulder, and wrapped the crisp white lace around her waist. She seemed to sag slightly as though this tutu was even heavier than the pink ones. But she managed to keep her head high enough to look down on the rest of us.

  “Now we have much work to do!” snapped Madam Giselle, returning to the center of the studio. “So you must listen very carefully—exactly as we rehearsed!” she added, lifting the cane and tapping it on the floor again.

  Being a secret agent, I’ve studied Morse code—which is an old-fashioned alphabet of dots and dashes for tapping out messages. This tap, tap, tapping sounded very similar.

  With every sequence of taps, the girls moved in perfect time with one another. They spun on their tippy toes, springing up and down with weird arm movements.

  Madam Giselle nodded with satisfaction at each girl in turn. Then she frowned when she got to me.

  “Listen to the cane!” she demanded, indicating that I should step in time with the TAP! TAP! TAP! “Surrender to the tap, tap, tapping!” she whispered.

  It was at this point that I suspected something strange was going on. Usually I’m pretty quick to spot an evil genius or a criminal mastermind, but I’d been so horrified to find myself enrolled in ballet class that I’d ignored all the signs!

  The “specially designed” tutus!

  The bitter ballet story!

  The Morse code cane!

  I made a point of not surrendering to the tapping cane. I watched the hand movements of the other dancers instead. It was then that I realized these were not graceful ballet moves at all! The dancers looked like the grabbing claws of a junkyard crane! With Madam Giselle standing next to me, I got a good look at the cane. For the first time, I noticed a small red button in the silver knob at the top.

  Red buttons are very popular with those attempting to take over the world. I’ve come up against a few in my time, and every one made something explode. I wasn’t sure what would explode if this button was pressed. I decided to play along while I figured it out.

  The looks on the faces of the other girls seemed more vacant than usual. It seemed that the tapping cane had taken over their brains.

  I slowly adjusted my expression to look as clueless as the rest of them. I tried my best to copy their moves.

  It was really hard work spinning and bobbing and grabbing at the same time. Finally, I managed to convince Madam Giselle that I was a brainwashed ballerina. She stepped away from me looking very pleased with herself. Then she adjusted the rhythm of taps.

  There seemed to be twice as many instructions as the cane jabbed the floor like a sewing-machine needle! Suddenly Trudy leaped away with a series of impressive jumps and spins. The next girl followed and then the next, until it was my turn to do the same.

  Fortunately, Madam Giselle was no longer focusing just on me. She didn’t notice that my jumps and spins were not quite so graceful.

  The ballerina train snaked around the studio. Each dancer made her weird movements while the teacher watched intently. She spent most of her time watching Trudy. The prima ballerina had no idea that she was starring in something dodgy and possibly explosive.

  Once she was satisfied that all the dancers would respond to every instruction, Madam Giselle slowed the tap tempo. Everyone moved back into a line. Then she paused and made three rapid taps that obviously meant stop.

  I was glad for the chance to rest. The dancing was really hard work. I ached all over. A quick glance sideways confirmed that the other girls were still in a trance, which meant I couldn’t collapse into an exhausted heap!

  “I think it is time for you all to wear your special ballet hats!” said Madam Giselle, mostly to herself as the spooky ballerinas stared straight ahead. She produced a cloth sack and handed something dark and fuzzy to each of the dancers.

  We all pulled on the headgear. The special “ballet hat” was actually a ski mask!

  Beneath the mask, my vacant expression turned to one of shock. I realized that hiding our faces meant we were leaving the hall. Whatever Madam Giselle was planning was happening now!

  The old teacher scuttled up and down, checking shoe ribbons and straightening tutus. Then she pulled on her own ski mask and leaped on Trudy’s back! The ribbons on Trudy’s dress turned out to be stirrups. The old woman slipped her pointy, black shoes through them.

  Perched on Trudy’s back, Madam Giselle tugged on her cane, and it extended to twice its length. She began tapping out new instructions that sent Trudy leaping through the doors of the hall. She was soon followed by the rest of the dancers.

  It was hard work keeping up. The line of ballerinas bounded down Main Street like frilly gazelles, while avoiding startled shoppers who had to dive out of our way. A few onlookers actually applauded as we passed. They thought this was some strange kind of street performance.

  With a few well-timed spins, I managed to twirl myself to the front of the regular dancers. There I could keep an eye on Trudy and her ridiculous rider, who was holding on with one hand and tapping the cane with the other.

  Madam Giselle looked like a crazed crow perched on a wedding cake!

  I still had no idea what the demented dancer was planning—or where we were going. Then I spied a poster stuck to a lamppost advertising Swan Lake!

  This was a bit too much of a coincidence. With a sideways leap, I snatched it.

  Apparently a new production of Swan Lake was opening that night at the King’s Theater. Madam Giselle was herding us straight for the people she blamed for ruining her ballet career!

  Suddenly, the old woman steered Trudy down an alley at the side of the theater. Madam Giselle opened the stage door with a rusty old key. She ushered us inside, where the Swan Lake music was already playing. She made her frilly white filly gallop toward the stage!

  I managed to stay close behind and focused on the cane. I had to nab it before the old woman pressed the red button. I got really close as they neared the wooden platform, but when I grabbed for it, Trudy did a massive leap like a zombie kangaroo. The next thing I knew we were all onstage!

  The audience gasped when the ski-mask ballerinas appeared out of nowhere. The real ballerina misjudged a jump and landed on her bottom! Madam Giselle quickly dismounted Trudy and hobbled to the front of the stage!

  “I have danced my whole life for you ungrateful people!” she roared. She snapped her cane back to its regular size and waved it at the stunned audience. “And now you will all pay!”

  I charged to the front of the stage as the old woman lifted the cane to eye level. Her crooked thumb hovered over the silver knob.

  But just as I went to snatch it, she pressed the red button!

  Luckily, nothing exploded. Instead, the theater was filled with a whirring sound. When I looked down, I saw my tutu beginning to rotate! I quickly grabbed at the spinning frills. After a bit of wrestling, it ground to a halt and the motor in the waistband went

  Looking around I noticed all the other tutus were now at full speed. Madam Giselle tapped out new instructions that sent the ballerinas into the audience. The spinning skirts allowed the girls to leap from seat to seat and hover above the crowd as they picked their pockets and stole their jewelry.

  “Money!” I gasped. “You want them to ‘pay’ with money?”

  For the first time, Madam Giselle noticed that one of her ballerinas was not doing as she was told. She tapped even more frantically with the cane, but I just folded my arms and frowned.

  “So you’re just a regular old thief?” I said. I was a bit disappointed that she’d gone to such insane effort just to rob people.

  “You’re not trying to take over the wor
ld with an army of brainwashed ballerinas?”

  “Take over the world?” said the old woman, scratching her woolly chin. “No, of course not. But now you come to mention it, I could easily modify the cane controls and gather more girls….”

  “Oh, give me that!” I snapped. I snatched the cane and tapped it three times.

  The ballerinas immediately stopped plundering the audience and dropped all the loot. But they were still hovering in the air. They looked pretty spooky, like frilly pink ghosts in black ski masks!

  I pressed the red button. The motors turned off and lowered the dancers to the floor. And it was just in time too because that was when I heard the police sirens wailing down Main Street.

  When you’re a secret agent, you can’t take credit for saving the world—or even for saving a theater full of people from being robbed by a madwoman. You also have to protect the innocent, so I tapped the cane to bring the ballerinas back to the stage.

  The tapping instructions were very similar to Morse code. I extended the cane and hopped onto Trudy’s back for the getaway—only because I couldn’t tap and run at the same time, of course.

  Madam Giselle shook her fists at me as we bounded away, but she couldn’t escape without the cane. She had to stay in the spotlight until the police arrested her.

  I’d have to say she looked more like Sitting Duck than Swan Lake!

  Back at the studio, I removed all the ski masks and broke the cane in half. The weary dancers snapped out of their trance. Luckily, they remembered nothing and were all too exhausted to care when I told them Madam Giselle wouldn’t be continuing the class. Well, all but one …