Milton the Megastar

by Emma Read

  ‘What are you on about?’ said Zoe, managing to shove her hands on her hips, even sitting down.

  Greta interrupted. ‘Island Fox is Mako Gonzalez, the wildlife photographer and journalist Milton’s dad has been travelling with. Being somewhat dramatic, I might add.’ She turned to Owen. ‘Is everything OK?’

  ‘No . . . it’s worse than we thought – Mako has heard rumours that someone is bulldozing part of the rainforest up on the mountain. He doesn’t know for sure who, but he has his suspicions.’

  Zoe remembered Bradley’s noisy phone call at the airport and the mud on his boots. She picked up a BOB takeaway cup and crushed it, twisting Bradley’s face into a snarl. ‘It must be him!’

  ‘Let’s not jump to any conclusions. We’re guests in his hotel, so we need to be careful.’ Greta popped the cup back on the table. ‘Mako and his daughter, Jenna, have already got themselves banned from all of Bradley’s businesses on the island. They’ve been branded “troublemakers”.’

  Zoe nodded. They were now the ones on the inside. A plan began to form in Zoe’s head, including putting those awesome trainers Jenna was wearing on her Christmas list. ‘That’s not all,’ said Owen. ‘Mako said there was a thriving colony of Hawaiian happy-face spiders in that area of the forest. If the trees are cut down they’ll be wiped out . . . and Milton’s dad is with them.’

  Private (Eight) Eyes

  Zoe burst into her room. ‘Guys! Milton – I need to talk to you about your dad.’ She checked the window ledge and their newly constructed ‘cobweb corner’, but the spiders weren’t there. ‘Guys?’

  Zoe squinted at the dark places in the room. ‘Milton? Audrey? Ralph? Where are you?’ She lifted the lid of the little wooden box and found the three arachnids curled up in a ball, their abdomens rising and falling rhythmically.

  ‘Good morning!’ She tickled Ralph, not even noticing Mini, who was snuggled under one of Ralph’s hairy legs like a cuddly toy. In her defence, Ralph did sometimes take snacks to bed.

  ‘Bluebottle pie!’ Ralph shouted, waking up with a start. He stretched and shook the others, who yawned and crawled sluggishly on to Zoe’s hand. She took them to the Spida-Com, almost dropping them on to it in her excitement.

  ‘Wake up. Something’s happened. And I don’t just mean the earthquake you all slept through.’

  Ralph rubbed his eyes. ‘I hope it’s lunch.’

  Audrey stretched out her long legs one at a time then tapped the Scrabble tiles:

  WHERE WERE YOU

  Milton joined her.

  WE GOT BORED BY THE POOL

  Then Ralph tapped:

  AND HUNGRY

  THIS HOTEL IS TOO CLEAN

  Ralph’s tummy growled to make his point.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Zoe. ‘ You eat a lot more bugs than I realized. Our house must be teeming with them. I’ll find you something to eat in a minute. But listen, something just happened at breakfast.’

  Zoe told them all about Red Badger and Island Fox (which was somewhat confusing for the spiders at first).

  ‘So, to cut a long story short . . .’ She shot a quick glance at Ralph whose long stories were legendary. ‘Milton, your dad has been living with a group of Hawaiian happy-face spiders on the slopes of an active volcano, and is surrounded by diggers and bulldozers, in terrible danger. His house human, Mako, has asked my Dad and Greta to help.’

  Milton paled, staggered backwards into Audrey and seemed to just catch himself short of fainting.

  Perhaps the longer version might have been a bit more subtle.

  WOT WE DO

  Ralph tapped, looking proud of how his spelling was improving.

  ‘We’re going to have to rescue him,’ said Zoe.

  Two hours later, in the small hotel library, the spiders were clutching their abdomens and groaning, having stuffed themselves with their own local breakfast (or, more accurately, brunch, as it was now – well, who knew what time it was?)

  Zoe had squeezed in one more peanut butter smoothie and was just putting the finishing touches to the first Private (Eight) Eye Investigations case file.

  It was a little thin on notes, but the cover was pretty.

  Zoe pushed her dark glasses down over her nose. She was wearing them indoors so as not to draw attention to herself, but it was actually quite hard to see.

  ‘Feeling better?’ she asked the spiders.

  They looked at her, fit to burst, and nodded. The library was very dusty, full of old cobwebs and flies – unlike anywhere else in the spotless hotel. When Zoe had requested her drink be brought there, the staff had to have a discussion to determine exactly where the library was.

  ‘We have a library? That’s news to me,’ the bartender had said. Zoe asked the cleaning staff, but they had never heard of it either.

  It was perfect for a secret meeting with three peckish spiders.

  ‘So, before we go heading off into danger, we need proof that Bradley O’Hair, the so-called billionaire, is behind the destruction of the happy-faces’ habitat. This is what I have so far,’ said Zoe, tapping the case file with her green gel pen. ‘Milton’s dad is trapped on Mount Kilauea. Which is a volcano. Potential issue, given the minor earthquake this morning, but moving on. Someone is bulldozing the mountain – why? It sounds like a hair-brained scheme to me. And who is the king of O’Hair-brained schemes around here?’

  Ralph shrugged, so Audrey and Milton nudged him from either side, squeezing out a little fruit-fly flavoured burp.

  ‘Oh, right,’ he said. ‘O’Hair. I get it.’

  Zoe continued. ‘You guys probably haven’t seen the picture of the pink polystyrene beach that blew away, have you? The man is an environmental disaster – he’s our prime suspect, but we need more evidence before we can do anything. So far all we have is a load of golf courses, hotels, limos, jet skis, yachts and possibly one private jet, but we need something to link him specifically to the deforestation on Kilauea.’

  Audrey lowered herself from a shelved copy of The 50 Biggest Hotels in the World on a long thread of silk, then swung herself back and forth until she had enough speed to knock into a row of takeaway cups that were lined up like dominoes.

  ‘Yes, Audrey. All the single-use plastic is terrible, but we need something that places him directly at the scene of the crime.’ Zoe tapped her chin with the pen. ‘Mako and his daughter, Jenna, are already banned from the hotel and the staff saw them talking to Dad and looked pretty cross. They could be on to us already. We’ll have to be very careful. This is turning into an extremely dangerous mission.’ She watched Audrey climb back up the bookcase like a graceful mountaineer. ‘That’s it, Audrey. We’re going to have to climb the mountain and see for ourselves!’

  Audrey slipped back down two shelves in shock.

  She spun round and gave Zoe one of her fiercest looks, which even Zoe was getting to be scared of.

  ‘Where else will we get the proof we need and rescue Milton’s dad? Unless anyone’s got a better idea?’ Zoe slumped back into the enormous old leather armchair and looked thoughtful.

  After almost a minute’s silence, Ralph raised his leg.

  The Man with the Golden Toilet

  As per Ralph’s daring plan, Zoe left Milton, Audrey and Ralph in another, smaller plastic pot plant on the tenth floor of the hotel, and went off to lunch by the pool, with Greta and her dad.

  Operation Spy-der was GO!

  All the spiders had to do was sneak into Bradley’s office.

  Milton and Audrey slipped through the keyhole and spun a thread to the garishly carpeted floor.

  But Ralph was stuck.

  ‘How do you get up the plughole and you can’t fit through there?’ said Milton.

  ‘You, for one, should know that’s a common misconception. I don’t go up the plughole. I fall down into the bath.’

  ‘I’ll get him,’ said Audrey, and climbed, leg over leg, back up to the gold door handle.

  ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have had that last ambro
sia beetle,’ she said, shaking her head.

  ‘They were so tasty. And tiny, really.’ Ralph hung his cephalothorax, which was safely in the office. His abdomen was firmly stuck back in the hallway. ‘This is possibly the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me,’ he said, wriggling.

  Audrey hoisted up her silk thread. ‘I very much doubt that. Here, tuck your legs in.’ She looped the thread up and over him and tied it underneath. ‘Think thin thoughts.’

  ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ said Ralph, but too late – Audrey jumped.

  ‘Ooooooooowwwwwwwww!’ Ralph popped out of the keyhole like a cork from a bottle and flew all the way to Bradley O’Hair’s desk, where he landed on an open laptop. With Audrey still attached, he began sliding backwards, and the movement brought the laptop screen to life.

  ‘Guys, come up here. I’ve found something,’ he called.

  Milton and Audrey clambered up, Audrey rubbing her head where she’d hit it on the table leg.

  ‘It’s a video,’ said Milton. ‘Of the rainforest. And look, there’s the BOB logo.’

  ‘If it’s a video, why isn’t it moving?’ asked Ralph.

  ‘We need to activate that triangle on the screen. Wriggle around on that square bit, like you do with Zoe’s laptop and see what happens.’

  Ralph shimmied down and as he wiped his bottom on the mouse pad, an arrow shape appeared.

  ‘That’s it.’ Audrey clapped her front claws together. ‘Now move the arrow pointer to the triangle.’

  Ralph shook his head. ‘Squares, arrowy pointy triangles? How is this my life?’ But he did it. The pointer rested on the play button. ‘Now what?’

  The spiders exchanged looks.

  ‘Click it,’ said Milton.

  ‘Right,’ said Ralph. ‘Um . . .’ He crossed his claws together and clicked. ‘Did that help?’

  ‘No! We need to click the button. The play button. The triangle!’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, I don’t know!’ Ralph sat down hard on the mouse pad, which depressed underneath him.

  And clicked.

  Suddenly an almighty noise came from the laptop, as on the video, diggers and chainsaws sprang into life. Milton, Audrey and Ralph fell backwards in alarm as they watched humans in flowery hi-vis jackets cutting down trees and bulldozing the ground. The camera panned round to take in the extent of the destruction – shrubs uprooted, the broken limbs of trees lay all around, and the ground was churned like a farmer’s field. The spiders had just got to their claws again when, on-screen, Bradley suddenly leapt into view, photobombing his own video. This caused great confusion and alarm when the real Bradley O’Hair burst through the office door, roaring into his mobile phone.

  The spiders screamed and grabbed one another.

  ‘Chuck, you’re a great guy,’ he boomed into the phone, ‘but I gotta go, I think these ecocrazy Maceys are on to me – I just caught them with that journalist. Sure, it’s under control – I’m just going to stop them going up there, with free stuff and golf. That usually works. I ain’t letting a few stupid trees stand in my way, or even fewer stupid tree huggers. I’m Bradley O’Haaaaaaaaaaaaaay!’ Bradley threw his phone into the air as he saw the spiders clutching on to one another on his keyboard.

  ‘Eeeeeeewwwwwww – disgusting!’ he squealed in a high-pitched voice, grabbing a slipper with his face on. He whipped it behind him to splat the spiders, then stopped and made a gagging sound. ‘I can’t even squash you – I’ll have spider parts in my laptop.’ He tipped his head. ‘What the heck, I’ll buy another laptop.’ Bradley picked up the computer by the very corner of the screen and walked it over to the window. He was about to throw it out, spiders and all, until he seemed to realize that probably wouldn’t go down well with the guests sunbathing thirty metres below. So he turned and ran to the bathroom. Milton thought he was scared before, but the thought of falling from a great height into someone’s belly button was nothing compared to the shock of being in the billionaire’s bathroom. It was all gold and mirrors and Milton couldn’t work out what was real and what was a reflection and then he realized they were hanging over the toilet. Bradley started to shake the laptop violently, and Milton slipped from the Y key all the way to the Q.

  Audrey gasped and grabbed him with her long legs at full reach, all the while spinning frantically to secure them to the USB drive that was sticking out of the side of the laptop.

  ‘I don’t want to die on holiday,’ wailed Ralph.

  ‘And, I refuse to be flushed down the loo. Even if it is gold-plated.’ Audrey had a fierce look on her face as she tied her silk thread tightly around Milton, then Ralph. ‘Hold on to me,’ she said.

  Being so slender and delicate, there wasn’t much to hang on to, but Milton and Ralph put a leg around her and grabbed one another. Ralph gave Audrey a small kiss on the cheek.

  ‘What was that for?’ She blushed.

  ‘For luck. Saw it on the telly.’ He gave Audrey a wonky smile, then she took a deep breath and leapt into the air.

  Ralph and Milton were a little heavier than she’d anticipated and instead of performing a long, loopy swing they plummeted towards the toilet bowl.

  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

  Bradley saw the dangling bundle of spiders and screwed up his face like a giant baby about to let out a huge, red-faced cry. He flung the laptop into the air, just as the spiders were about to disappear past the golden seat. The web rope snapped back like a bungee, flinging the spiders up, then all too quickly they were falling again. The ball of Milton, Ralph and Audrey hit the gold-flecked marble sink, bounced off and landed squarely in the bin.

  ‘Oh, my head,’ said Milton, crawling to get on top of the pile of screwed-up paper they had landed in.

  Audrey pushed Ralph off her. ‘Oh, your head,’ she said. ‘It’s squashing me.’

  ‘Sorry, Audrey,’ groaned Ralph, wriggling off her tiny body. ‘Are you all right? You saved us, you know.’

  ‘I’m not sure I did,’ she said and started to bury herself under the paper. Milton looked up to see Bradley staring down at them.

  ‘Gross,’ he said. ‘You’re as bad as those horrid happy-face things. Well, you won’t beat me in the War On Bugs. This hotel is losing enough money as it is, without the scandal of an insect infestation.’ And before the spiders could protest about being arachnids, not insects, he sprayed them square in the face with the nearest thing to hand: a huge crystal-cut bottle of Man des Toilettes, then ran out, slamming the door behind him.

  Discovery!

  The spiders had no idea how long they were unconscious.

  Fortunately Bradley’s aftershave, although utterly revolting, was harmless, and all they were left with was a fog of cloying perfume and a slight headache.

  Milton was the last to come round and was groggy and miserable as he rubbed his eyes. ‘So much for getting away from the stresses of my life. I’m sitting in rubbish!’ He collapsed against a can of hairspray. ‘We’re never going to be able to help Dad.’

  Audrey wiped her good eyes with a receipt. ‘That was disgusting. Bradley is an awful human. Don’t you worry, Milton. We’ll stop him.’

  ‘Audrey’s right,’ agreed Ralph. ‘Also, if you don’t mind me saying, you seem a bit more like your old self, Milt.’

  Milton sniffed his claws and grimaced. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah. I could be wrong but I don’t think the celebrity life suits you. You’re your dad’s son, an adventurer at heart.’

  Milton wished for eyebrows to raise, Zoe did that so effectively in situations like this.

  Audrey nodded at Ralph’s unexpected wisdom. ‘Ralph’s right, Milton. I know you’re worried for your dad, but admit it, you’re enjoying all this investigating, problem-solving—’

  ‘Sticking your kephalo-doo-dah in other people’s business,’ interrupted Ralph.

  Milton wasn’t so sure. He was feeling better since his ‘incident’ in the attic, but surely this was worse – coughing up aroma of O’Hai
r in a bin?

  ‘I don’t know, I never got almost flushed down the loo on photo shoots.’

  ‘You’re a thrill seeker, mate. Accept it.’ Ralph looked pleased with himself.

  Eager to change the subject, Milton said, ‘We’re no closer to getting any evidence for Zoe. That awful video is on Bradley’s laptop, which looks broken, not that we could get it to her anyway. We need something she can stick in the book.’

  Ralph was heading to the rim of the bin when he stopped and looked down at the crumpled piece of BOB headed paper beneath his claws. ‘Guys, come and look at this. It might be what we’ve been looking for. Maybe. My reading’s getting better, but, crikey, his handwriting is bad.’

  ‘It’s a to-do list,’ said Audrey, running her front leg over the words. ‘Zoe writes them all the time. It’s a list of stuff you need to get done, but have no intention of actually doing.’

  ‘OK, let’s assume it’s Bradley’s, since it’s in his bathroom. What’s on the list?’

  Audrey carried on reading aloud:

  – play golf

  – go jet-skiing

  – have hair done

  – play golf

  – get nails buffed

  – invent new fruit cocktail and name it after me

  – bulldoze the forest to build a golf course

  – play golf

  – pluck eyebrows

  Milton gasped. ‘All Bradley’s to-do items are ticked. Maybe Bradley actually does the stuff on his lists. Ralph, you’re a genius. This is the proof we need that Bradley is behind the destruction.’

  ‘But how do we get this to Zoe? It’s too big to bring with us . . . isn’t it?’ Ralph side-eyed Audrey, as though he knew what she was going to say.

  ‘We only need that one item from the list. We can nibble that out and Ralph can carry it. What do you think, Ralph? You’re so strong and capable.’