Spy Dog Teacher's Pet

by Andrew Cope

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  I adopted my owner, Andrew Cope, when he visited the RSPCA. He seemed a nice enough chap. Perhaps not the brightest. But clean. Well-mannered. All his own teeth. And best of all, I knew I’d be able to train him. The plan was to convince him he was clever and I was just a mutt. I persuaded him to write some books about me. And now he chauffeurs me to schools and book festivals. I have my own ‘Spy Dog’ engraved dog bowl, diamond-encrusted collar and Harrod’s basket (with luxury feather pillow). I live a life of total relaxation and luxury. While Andrew Cope works his socks off. I ask you, reader, who do you think is the clever one?

  If you want Lara or her puppy to visit your school, please email her at lara@artofbrilliance.co.uk. They’ll probably have to bring Andrew Cope along too, but don’t let that put you off. Or you can find out more about the Spy Dog and Spy Pups books online at www.spydog451.co.uk, where there are pictures, videos and competitions too!

  Books by Andrew Cope

  Spy Dog

  Spy Dog 2

  Spy Dog Unleashed!

  Spy Dog Superbrain

  Spy Dog Rocket Rider

  Spy Dog Teacher’s Pet

  Spy Dog Secret Santa

  Spy Pups Treasure Quest

  Spy Pups Prison Break

  Spy Pups Circus Act

  Spy Pups Danger Island

  ANDREW COPE

  Illustrated by James de la Rue

  PUFFIN

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  puffinbooks.com

  First published 2010

  Text copyright © Andrew Cope and Stella Maidment, 2010

  Illustrations copyright © James de la Rue, 2010

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the authors and illustrator has been asserted

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN: 978-0-141-96805-6

  For everyone who goes to school each day – children, teachers, head teachers, dinner ladies and especially Isabel, Alfie, Leo, Teddy and Charlie

  Contents

  1. Daylight Robbery

  2. The Email

  3. Crimewatch

  4. At The Dirty Duck

  5. The School Run

  6. The Experiment

  7. Great Gadgets

  8. The Monster Machine

  9. Painting Plates

  10. Pups to the Rescue!

  11. A Letter from ‘Daddy’

  12. It’s Fete!

  13. The Odd Couple

  14. Hunting for Ben

  15. The Precious Parcel

  16. Hair Raising!

  17. Where’s the Fire?

  18. Nightingale Lake

  19. The School Assembly

  1. Daylight Robbery

  The afternoon air was heavy and still. The sun burnt down relentlessly and, high above the drowsy village, a plane’s white vapour trail crept silently across the sky. There was nothing and no one about.

  No one saw the car stop outside the house, or the two men looking quickly from side to side and pulling up their hoods. No one heard the smash of glass as the back window was struck with a single hammer blow, and no one witnessed the leather-gloved hand reach in and turn the catch.

  Inside the house the thieves moved quickly through the rooms, turning over cushions, opening cupboards, pulling out drawers. They looked in the fridge and the washing machine. They threw books out of bookcases and tipped clothes out of the laundry basket. They even got a stepladder and went up in the loft.

  They ignored the flat-screen television and the laptop. They paid no attention to the camera or the electric guitar. They certainly weren’t interested in the exercise books piled up on the table waiting to be marked – they just scattered them over the floor as they hurried past.

  The men took pictures off the walls and hurled them on the floor. They sliced open the sofa and armchair. They ripped up the carpet and prised open a loose floorboard, revealing the wires and pipes underneath. Then, as the clock on the microwave flashed to 15.15, they pushed down their hoods, opened the front door, pocketed their gloves and were gone.

  No one saw or heard a thing, but when Mr Thompson came home from school that afternoon he certainly got a nasty surprise.

  2. The Email

  A mile or so away across the village, a black and white dog about the size of a Labrador, with one ear that flopped down and another that stuck up, was relaxing in a deckchair. She had finished her sudoku puzzle and was lying back with her eyes closed, enjoying the sun.

  Lara was thinking what a lucky dog she was to have such a great home with Mr and Mrs Cook and their three children Ben, Sophie and Ollie.

  A butterfly landed on her long, doggie nose and, as she brushed it carefully away, she thought about the old days when her name was just Agent GM451 and her official job title was LARA – Licensed Assault and Rescue Animal.

  Life in the Secret Service was certainly exciting, thought Lara, but it was pretty scary sometimes too.

  Unconsciously she moved her paw to touch the perfectly round bullet hole in her sticking-up ear. That was a souvenir of one of her more dangerous missions. Things certainly got a bit hairy then. It was on that assignment that Lara was forced to pose as an ordinary dog, and then got herself adopted by the Cooks.

  That was the best thing I ever did, thought Lara. It was fun being a secret agent and I liked catching all those baddies, but I’d rather be part of a normal family.

  Just then she heard some excited woofs from the end of the garden. Lara peered through her sunglasses at her two lively pups, Spud and Star. They were playing a very splashy game of tug-of-war with the garden hose.

  ‘Calm down, you two!’ she woofed, trying to sound stern. ‘You’re meant to be watering the plants, not each other!’

  No, I’m very happy to be a retired Spy Dog, especially now that I’m a mum, she thought, settling more comfortably in her chair.

  Of course Lara would always be grateful to Professor Cortex for singling her out at his special animal spy school. The intensive training programme he put her on had completely changed her life.

  After all, how m
any dogs can drive a car, defuse a bomb, understand several languages and have a black belt in karate? thought Lara. And now I can pass all those skills on to the pups as well – and they’re learning fast!

  And, even though she wasn’t on active service, Lara’s life was never dull.

  In fact, sometimes it seems like adventures come looking for me, whether I like it or not! I’ve certainly had a few since I’ve been living here …

  Lara yawned and tipped her sunhat over her eyes. The heat of the sun, the gentle movement of the deckchair and the sounds of family life drifting out from the Cooks’ open back door mixed together with her memories of all her recent escapades. I think I have the best of both worlds now …

  On the kitchen table Lara’s smartphone suddenly buzzed into life. Lara had programmed it to play ‘How Much is that Doggie in the Window?’ if she had an email; ‘Puppy Love’ for a text message and Elvis Presley singing ‘You Ain’t Nothing but a Hound Dog’ if she had a phone call. This time it was an email. It had just got to the bit about the waggly tail when Spud ran in from the garden.

  Spud was a small, plump pup with jet-black fur like his dad. He picked up the smartphone carefully in his mouth and ran out to Lara.

  ‘Wake up, Ma! You’ve got an email,’ he woofed as he passed his mum the phone.

  ‘I wasn’t asleep!’ protested Lara. ‘I was just thinking … with my eyes closed.’

  ‘In that case you were thinking and snoring at the same time!’ chuckled Star. Star was a miniature version of her mum and just as intelligent. Spud and Star were a team. They were full of enthusiasm and always looking for adventure. They didn’t mind the heat and they thought it was just a tiny bit boring that it seemed to make everyone else want to sit around doing not very much.

  ‘Who’s it from, Ma? What’s it about?’

  Lara touched the screen lazily with her paw. Then suddenly she sat bolt upright, wide awake.

  ‘It’s from the police,’ she said. ‘There’s been a break-in. Sophie’s new teacher, Mr Thompson, was burgled this afternoon. The police want to know if we can help.’

  ‘Wow!’ said Spud. ‘A real burglary in our village! That’s never happened before, has it?’

  ‘Well, not for a long, long time,’ said Lara grimly. ‘Not since I started our special animal neighbourhood watch team. Since then the local crime rate’s been pretty close to zero.’ She jumped out of her deckchair and marched quickly down the garden, the pups trotting along beside her.

  ‘OK, pups, it’s action stations! We need an emergency meeting of the whole team and we need it soon. Get the word out to everyone, straight away.’

  ‘Right, Ma, what time and where?’ barked Star efficiently.

  ‘Seven o’clock on the village green,’ said Lara. ‘Surely someone must have seen something …’

  3. Crimewatch

  ‘So, what I need to know is, did anyone see anything unusual or suspicious at around three o’clock this afternoon?’

  The neighbourhood watch team were lined up in front of Lara in order of size. The front row consisted of a hamster, two guinea pigs and George the tortoise, standing beside his special customized skateboard. Now that Professor Cortex had given George his own wheels he was never late for meetings any more.

  In the second row was a mixture of cats and small dogs, including Spud and Star, all sitting up smartly and paying attention. Under Lara’s instruction the animals put their differences aside during meetings, but that didn’t stop Sheba the Siamese swapping places quickly so she didn’t have to sit next to Milo the lively Border terrier. Behind them were the bigger dogs: Labradors, retrievers, setters, an elderly Dalmatian and Danny Boy the greyhound. At the very back was the newest member of the team – a Shetland pony called Minstrel.

  Lara’s second-in-command, the pups’ father, Potter – a handsome, shaggy, black pedigree – sat beside Lara at the front. All the animals were listening carefully to Lara’s briefing.

  ‘Mr Thompson only moved into that house a week ago and today someone broke in round the back and completely trashed it,’ said Lara. ‘But the really strange thing is that nothing was stolen.’

  Felix put his paw up to show that he wanted to speak. ‘Maybe the burglar was disturbed?’ he suggested.

  ‘Could be,’ said Lara. ‘Were any of you in the vicinity of the crime? Going for a walk with your owners, perhaps? Or –’ she glanced at the cats – ‘sitting on walls or climbing trees?’

  The dogs and cats shook their heads. ‘It was much too hot,’ said Rex. ‘I spent the afternoon indoors, lying beside my water bowl.’

  ‘I was asleep in a flower bed,’ volunteered Tiddles. ‘Look, I’ve still got some petals in my fur!’

  The other cats nodded. ‘Far too hot to be out and about today.’

  Lara looked at the animals in the front row. It wasn’t much use asking the hamster – he slept all day at the best of times, and the guinea pigs lived on the wrong side of town.

  ‘What about you, George?’

  ‘It wasn’t too hot for me,’ said George. ‘I just love this weather! But I didn’t see anything, I’m afraid. I was busy practising my skateboarding. I’ve got this great new move – shall I show you?’

  Without waiting for an answer, George set off on his motorized skateboard and, after a while, very slowly lifted one front leg, held it in the air for a couple of seconds, then carefully put it back down again. After several suspense-filled seconds he then repeated the action in exactly the same way with his back leg. Then he turned the skateboard round and brought it to a halt. The other animals clapped politely.

  ‘It may not look much,’ said George modestly, ‘but that move represents a huge step for tortoise-kind. I’m going to call it – George’s demon shell-tilt!’

  ‘That’s great, George,’ said Lara, ‘and I know it represents a lot of hard work and perseverance on your part, but we should really get back to business.’

  ‘I think I may have seen something, Lara,’ said a gentle voice. It was Minstrel the Shetland pony. ‘I didn’t think about it at the time, but I did see a car I didn’t recognize going past my field into the village and then coming back again a little while later. I didn’t see the driver, but I noticed the car because I was standing by the gate.’

  Lara beckoned to Star and passed her a notebook. Star put a pen in her mouth and began to take notes. ‘Do you have any idea what time this was?’ asked Lara.

  ‘Well, all I know is it was not long before my owner came home from school. That’s why I was by the gate, you see. She always brings me an apple when she gets home.’

  ‘OK, good information, Minstrel,’ said Lara. She paused to check Star’s notes.

  ‘Your writing’s nice and clear, Star, but “village” ends with a-g-e, not i-j. Never mind, we’ll sort out the spelling later!’

  Lara looked back at the pony; he was young and rather shy. Lara knew better than to hurry him. ‘How about the car, Minstrel – can you tell me anything about that?’

  ‘Oh dear, I don’t really know much about cars, I’m afraid. It was blue, I think. Yes, definitely blue. It wasn’t anything special, just an ordinary car. I can’t tell you the registration number or anything – I’m not good at reading like you, Lara.’

  ‘No, that’s OK,’ said Lara patiently. ‘Just give yourself a minute. Is there anything else at all you can remember?’

  There was a long pause while Minstrel racked his brains. ‘Oh, there is something,’ he said at last. ‘When the car was coming out of the village it was going really fast and it took the corner badly – it scraped against the wall on the passenger’s side. That probably made quite a nasty scratch on the paintwork.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ said Lara. ‘Well done! That’s just the sort of information the police will want to have. Well, if no one else has anything to add, I think this meeting is over. I’ll report back to the police immediately, and in the mean
time everyone should be on Grade One alert – and I mean everyone! If you see or hear anything suspicious, act on it straight away; it doesn’t matter if it turns out to be a false alarm. We don’t want any more crime in our village.’

  That’s all very well, thought George to himself as he set off home on his skateboard, but what we want and what we get are often two quite different things.

  4. At The Dirty Duck

  Most of the customers at The Black Swan were drinking their beer outside that night. The pub, known to its regulars as The Dirty Duck, was in the middle of the city and there wasn’t really a garden, but in the summer the landlady took down her washing line and put out empty barrels in the backyard so people could enjoy the evening air.

  Only two men were sitting in the gloomy bar. They were tucked away in a corner by the dartboard, engrossed in conversation.

  ‘Well, that was a total waste of time,’ said the shorter of the two, a bulky man, almost as broad as he was tall, with a closely shaven head and thick, muscular arms. ‘Are you sure H left it hidden in the house, Cliff?’

  ‘Yes, Dale, I’m sure,’ said the other man testily. He was tall, slight, pale and nondescript – except for a nasty glint in his dark-grey eyes. ‘He told me so himself, the day before he got caught.’

  Even though they looked so different the two men were half-brothers. They had the same mother – a keen hill walker in her younger days who named her sons after geographical features – and they also shared the same dedication to a life of crime.

  Cliff and Dale were two thirds of a successful gang of international art thieves. They had just managed to pull off a major robbery from the British Museum in London. The brothers didn’t know anything about art or antiquities. They left that to their boss, Hugh Higsley-Hogbottom, known to the underworld as ‘H’. H was educated, suave and super-cool. He knew exactly what to steal and who to sell it on to – but Dale and Cliff knew how to steal it.