Sindhu and Jeet's Detective Agency
Page 3
*
Dad stood outside the office looking super worried.
“What happened?” asked Sindhu. “Where’s Mum?”
“We were eating lunch in the café when suddenly the security guards pounced on Mum and dragged her here.”
“But why?”
“Apparently she stole the Valampuri Sangu,” said Dad.
“That’s not possible,” said Sindhu.
“Did Mum touch the display when she was in the hall?”
“No!” said Sindhu. “The display case was empty at first. Then Miss Finch, that woman we were chasing, placed a conch inside the case. Mum said it wasn’t the Valampuri Sangu and she got quite upset with Miss Finch.”
“Oh no!” said Jeet. “I think… Do you know what I mean?”
Sindhu’s eyes widened. “What if Miss Finch put the fake one on display and then put the real one in Mum’s bag? That’s what she was doing in the café!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Aunty is being framed,” said Jeet.
Dad scratched his head and took a deep breath. “OK, OK! We’re tourists here. I’m going to call my lawyer friend first. You both sit here! Don’t move.”
As soon as Dad turned around, Sindhu whispered, “I’ve got to see Mum.”
“How?” asked Jeet.
Sindhu took off Mum’s jacket and walked up to the security guard. “I want to see my mum,” she said.
“Sorry! You’ve to wait until Miss Finch gets here.”
“But I have my mum’s jacket,” said Sindhu. “She’ll be cold inside.”
“Sorry!”
“It’s a violation of her human rights,” shouted Sindhu.
“Please keep your voice down,” she said calmly, standing between Sindhu and the door.
Some visitors stopped to look. One man seemed keen to intervene.
“Fine!” said the guard. “You can go in with the jacket. Empty the pockets please.”
Sindhu rolled her eyes as she handed Mum’s phone to Jeet and pushed down the door handle.
“Sindhu,” called Jeet.
“Your mum might need a pen,” said Jeet, handing over his spy-cam. “In case she wants to sign a confession?”
The guard nodded and let Sindhu in.
The office was brightly lit. On the shelves were certificates claiming Miss Finch was a marine biologist. On the other end of the room was a tall mahogany cupboard.
Mum was seated on a wooden chair with her head on the table.
“Mum!” said Sindhu. “Are you OK? Don’t be upset.”
Mum looked up. “I’m not upset,” she said. “I’m livid. First, she mislabels the conch and then she claims I’ve stolen it,” hissed Mum. “How dare she!”
“She planted it in your bag, Mum,” said Sindhu, “in the café. We thought she was stealing at first. But now…”
There was a sudden noise outside.
“Go and wait outside,” said Mum. “I think she’s here.”
“I have a plan,” said Sindhu. “Ask her why she did it, OK?”
Sindhu scrambled into the mahogany cupboard and shut the door behind her. She turned on the spy-cam and stuck it in front of the keyhole in the cupboard. She really hoped her plan was going to work.
Miss Finch entered with the security guard.
“Did you search her bags?” she asked.
“No, Miss Finch,” said the guard. “We were told to wait for you and her lawyer to arrive.”
“Only guilty people need lawyers,” said Miss Finch, shutting the door behind her and sitting in front of Mum.
“So, you need one, right?” said Mum.
Sindhu almost chuckled. Her dad had always said Mum was the bravest person he had ever met and Sindhu understood why.
“Admit to the theft and hand over the conch!” shouted Miss Finch.
“I didn’t steal anything!” said Mum. “You mislabelled the conch in the display. Did you buy that degree in a fake school?”
“Hey!” said Miss Finch. “I’m a real marine biologist. But I’m OK writing a wrong label here and there. Especially for a million pounds.”
Miss Finch chuckled as if she was so proud of herself.
“Shame on you,” said Mum in her mum voice.
Miss Finch didn’t reply. She took out a file and started writing.
“You mislabelled the fake and stole the real one to sell,” said Mum. “But why did you put it in my bag? Why not just take it home yourself?”
“They always check staff bags,” said Miss Finch, looking up. “So, I always pick a clueless tourist to carry something out for me. And then when you’re taking some silly selfie outside, a little bird can fly away with your bag.”
Sindhu inhaled sharply. How many times had Miss Finch stolen stuff from the museum? She had to be stopped.
Mum grunted. “Fine!” she said. “Good plan. Why didn’t you wait for me to come out of the museum and steal it from me? Why did you report me? Did you get scared?”
Miss Finch laughed. “I don’t get scared,” she shouted. “I had to adapt because your silly daughter chased me around the museum. Things like that stick in guards’ minds. So I decided to frame you, so no one will suspect me later.”
“Oh wow!” said Mum. Sindhu was sure it was a sarcastic ‘wow’. “Now what?”
“Why would I tell you?” said Miss Finch.
“So, you have no clue what to do now, right?” said Mum.
“Of course I know what to do,” said Miss Finch with indignation. “I will confiscate the original from you now, swap it with a fake and sell the original.”
“Oh wow!” said Mum.
This time it wasn’t sarcastic. Because that was a good plan, Sindhu realised.
Even if years later someone found the fake, they’d come looking for Mum because she was the thief on record. She had to stop Miss Finch from stealing and framing her mum.
She jumped out of the cupboard shouting, “Gotcha!”
“What are YOU doing here?” shouted Miss Finch. “Security!” she called.
The door opened and Jeet burst in followed by the guard. Dad came in after them.
“Call Miss Finch’s boss,” said Sindhu. “Please!”
“Is everything OK in here, Miss Finch?” asked the security guard.
Miss Finch didn’t stop to explain. She tried to make a break for it.
“Not so fast,” said Jeet, casually extending his leg out to trip her and break her run.
Miss Finch fell face down on the carpeted floor with a thud.
When Mr Stanley Soda, Miss Finch’s boss, arrived, Mum explained the million-pound plan to steal and sell the conch.
“I don’t believe it,” he said. “Miss Finch wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“But we can prove Miss Finch did it,” said Sindhu.
Jeet plugged the spy-cam into Dad’s phone and pressed Play.
The confession had been recorded fully and the replay audio and keyhole video were crisp and clear.
Mr Soda sighed loudly.
“I think Mr Soda has fizzled out,” whispered Jeet.
Miss Finch was taken away and the rest, as they say, is Natural History.
Mum later got a private tour of the conch collections. The Museum gave them each a lifetime pass to everything, including the special exhibitions.
When they sat down for some tea and cake, Dad said, “I wish WE had sold the conch for a million pounds. It would have come in handy to pay for these cakes.”
“After this, let’s head to the special exhibitions,” said Jeet. “We’ve more than an hour left before they close.”
“Oh no! How much is that going to cost?” wailed Dad.
“It’s free, Mani,” said Mum, fanning herself with her lifetime pass. “Courtesy of Sindhu and Jeet’s Detective Agency!”
Sindhu laughed. Her holiday was going exactly as she had hoped. Not at all boring!
READING ZONE!
QUIZ TIME
Can you remember the a
nswers to these questions?
• How do Sindhu and Jeet listen to the voices through the wall?
• Which sport do Sindhu and Jeet play for their school?
• Who calls the police to stop the woman who had stolen the photo?
• Why does Mum argue with one of the museum staff?
READING ZONE!
WHAT DO YOU THINK?
At the start, Jeet says he wants to be a tourist and not do any detective work on holiday. But before they even get on the flight, he helps to solve a mystery.
Do you think he did enjoy his holiday even though it included detective work?
Did Sindhu and Jeet have a good balance between solving mysteries and holiday activities?
READING ZONE!
STORYTELLING TOOLKIT
This book has three different mystery stories in it. Which mystery did you enjoy the most? What parts of that story made you like it best?
READING ZONE!
GET CREATIVE
Sindhu and Jeet use Jeet’s pen-shaped spy camera to help them solve the mysteries and record evidence.
Imagine you are a detective. Can you design a gadget to help you solve mysteries? Draw a picture of it and add labels to show what the different parts of the gadget do.
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This electronic edition published in August 2021 by Bloomsbury Plc
BLOOMSBURY, BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Text copyright © Chitra Soundar, 2021
Illustrations copyright © Amberin Huq, 2021
Chitra Soundar and Amberin Huq have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author and Illustrator of this work
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN: PB: 978-1-4729-9331-1; ePDF: 978-1-4729-9333-5; ePub: 978-1-4729-9332-8
Cover and text design by Laura Neate
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