Selby Speaks

Home > Other > Selby Speaks > Page 8
Selby Speaks Page 8

by Duncan Ball


  “The portrait of me is missing from the council chambers!” Mrs Trifle exclaimed to Sergeant Short and Constable Long as she burst into the police station with Selby at her side. “I just came back from a weekend away and … and … and it’s gone!”

  “Your portrait?” Sergeant Short said, jumping to his feet. “Is that the one your husband painted, the one of you with your eyes crossed?”

  “Yes. I know it’s not a great painting,” Mrs Trifle said, “but Dr Trifle painted it for me as a gift so it means a lot to me.”

  “There’s no need to panic, Mrs Mayor,” said Sergeant Short, who had just watched the latest episode of Inspector Quigley’s Casebook on TV about a butler who stole a valuable painting. “I’ll have the culprit behind bars before long or my name’s not Short.”

  “And I’ll help,” Constable Long, who loved solving mysteries, said, “or my name’s not Long.”

  “Do whatever you can,” Mrs Trifle, who had just watched the same episode of Inspector Quigley’s Casebook, said as Selby thought for a moment about long and short names. “But whatever we do we have to keep the theft a secret from Dr Trifle. If he knows that someone’s stolen his painting he’ll be most upset.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs Mayor,” Sergeant Short assured her. “We’re almost as good at keeping secrets as we are at solving mysteries.”

  That evening, Sergeant Short rang Mrs Trifle at her home.

  “I have rounded up three suspects,” he whispered into the telephone, “and I’ve asked them to come to the scene of the crime, the council chambers, tonight, so that I can expose the culprit. Can you come too?”

  “Why, yes,” Mrs Trifle whispered back, remembering that Inspector Quigley liked to gather all the suspects together at the scene of the crime when he exposed a culprit. “Dr Trifle is working away quietly in his workshop. I’ll just pretend that I’m taking my dog Selby for a walk. He’ll never know I’m at the council chambers.”

  When Mrs Trifle and Selby arrived at the scene of the crime Sergeant Short was pacing up and down in front of the suspects — Postie Paterson, Melanie Mildew and Phil Philpot — smoking a pipe and wearing a quilted dressing-gown just like Inspector Quigley.

  “But just a minute, Sergeant,” Mrs Trifle said, “there must be some mistake. I’m sure none of these good people has done anything wrong.”

  “In the business of criminal investigation,” Sergeant Short said, quoting Inspector Quigley, “you can never be sure of anything. Often it’s the least likely people who turn to a life of crime.”

  “Oh boy, this is exciting!” Selby thought, suddenly wondering if all three suspects were international portrait thieves.

  “After careful investigation I’ve established that the painting was removed yesterday at exactly midday while you were out of town,” Sergeant Short said, blowing a puff of smoke in the air, “by a man wearing an overcoat with the collar turned up, a hat pulled down over his eyes and a false moustache.”

  “What a great piece of detective work!” Selby, who had also watched the latest episode of Inspector Quigley’s Casebook, thought. “I wonder how he worked it out.”

  “How did you work that out?” Mrs Trifle, who was also curious, asked.

  “I worked it out from information supplied to me by Constable Long,” he said, pointing his pipe stem at Constable Long. “After some discussion he revealed to me a bit of information that cracked the case, a vital clue.”

  “Cracked the case! A vital clue!” Selby thought. “This is great! Inspector Quigley is always cracking cases and finding vital clues.”

  “And what clue was that?” Mrs Trifle asked.

  “Constable Long informed me that he had seen a man wearing an overcoat with the collar turned up, a hat pulled down over his eyes and a false moustache sneaking suspiciously out of the council chambers with the painting in question under his arm. Unfortunately he didn’t think anything of it at the time. Now!” Sergeant Short said, suddenly doing a Quigley-like spin and pointing his pipe at his first suspect. “Postie Paterson, where were you at the time of the crime?”

  “At the time of the crime,” Postie said, trying not to giggle. “That’s a good rhyme.”

  “Please be serious and answer the question, Postie,” Sergeant Short said sharply.

  “Sorry, Sergeant. At the time of the crime I was in the post office sorting mail,” Postie said. “I can prove it. About twenty people came in to buy stamps at midday. They’ll all be witnesses that I was there and not out stealing paintings.”

  “Ahah! But is it not true that you once lived in the city and that you were a butler?” asked Sergeant Short, who knew from Inspector Quigley’s Casebook that butlers were the ones who usually did it.

  “No! No! No!” yelled Postie, who was also an Inspector Quigley fan. “You can’t pin that rap on me! I’m innocent! I was never a butler.”

  “This is getting more exciting than TV!” Selby thought, wondering where the questioning was leading.

  “And you?” Sergeant Short said, turning to his second suspect, Melanie Mildew. “Were you ever a butler?”

  “I was a maid once,” Melanie said with a yawn.

  “That’s not good enough!” Sergeant Short said, coughing on some smoke and spinning around to his third suspect. “How about you, Phil Philpot? Were you ever a butler?”

  “No. I was a bugler in the army,” said Phil, “but I was never a butler. If you change the g in bugler for a t then you have butler.”

  “Then you expect me to believe that you didn’t steal the portrait of the cross-eyed mayor — I mean the cross-eyed portrait of the mayor?” Sergeant Short said, wagging his finger in Phil Philpot’s face the way Inspector Quigley always did when he was trying to get his suspects to blush and give themselves away.

  “I can prove I was in my restaurant, The Spicy Onion, at the time of the crime,” Phil said, blushing, as he always did when people wagged fingers in his face. “I have thirty witnesses — they were all having lunch in my restaurant at the time. They’ll tell you I was peeling carrots at exactly midday and not stealing paintings.”

  “I’m not sure this questioning is getting us anywhere,” Selby thought.

  Just then Selby noticed a mysterious figure wearing an overcoat with a turned-up collar, a hat pulled down over his eyes and a fake moustache, slip into the back of the chambers and hang the stolen painting on the wall.

  “Crikey, it’s him! It’s the butler, returning the painting!” Selby thought. “Everyone’s too busy trying to crack the crime. If they’d only turn around, they’d see him!”

  Selby watched as the shadowy figure tiptoed towards the door.

  “What can I do to get their attention?”

  Selby thought. “I could scream out, ‘It’s him! It’s the thief!’ but I’d give away my secret. Besides, they’d probably all stare at me and he’d get away. I’ve got to do something!”

  Selby gave a growl and then a lot of barks as he tore past Sergeant Short, spinning him around and knocking his pipe out of his hand. The thief broke into a run but Selby jumped into the air and grabbed him by the coat.

  “The thief!” Constable Long exclaimed as he grabbed the thief and knocked him to the floor. “I’ve got him! Help me get his disguise off.”

  Sergeant Short, the three suspects and Mrs Trifle gathered around the fallen man and the sergeant pulled off his hat and his false moustache.

  “Dr Trifle!” Sergeant Short exclaimed. “So you’re the butler — I mean, the culprit!”

  “I — I — I —” Dr Trifle said, not knowing quite what to say.

  “Darling, why did you do it?” Mrs Trifle cried. “Why did you turn to a life of crime? And why did you steal your own painting?”

  “Please forgive me, I didn’t steal it,” Dr Trifle said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “I only borrowed it back to uncross your eyes. I wanted to do it while you were out of town to surprise you, but it took till today to get it right. See?” he said, pointing to th
e portrait.

  “He’s right,” Selby thought as he looked up at the repainted portrait, “the eyes aren’t crossed any more. In fact they’re very uncrossed — they’re looking off in different directions.”

  “Oh, darling,” Mrs Trifle said, giving Dr Trifle a mayorly hug, “it’s a wonderful surprise. Of course you’re forgiven.”

  “And so ends another day and another mystery,” Selby said, quoting what Inspector Quigley always said at the end of his program, and he dashed home to watch the latest episode of Inspector Quigley’s Casebook, The Case of the Quick-Thinking Dog.

  Backword

  PIGGOTT PLACE

  Duncan Ball

  ‘Tell me what I should do with my life!’ Bert wailed. ‘Should I catch a boat to South America? Should I learn to play the trombone? Should I start an ostrich farm? I need your help! Give me a sign, any sign!’

  Sadly, Bert was talking to the only one he trusted in the whole world: Gazza, his stuffed goat. And, once again, the goat wasn’t talking …

  Piggott Place is a riotous but touching comedy about twelve-year-old Bert Piggott as he struggles to keep his family of dreamers, ratbags and scoundrels together. Everyone hates the Piggotts and now the council is going to evict them from their once beautiful mansion, Piggott Place. But the authorities haven’t bargained on Bert and his young friend Antigone (would-be star of stage and screen) and their crazy scheme. The question is: can two kids take on a world of adults and win?

  PIGGOTTS IN PERIL

  Duncan Ball

  Piggotts in Peril begins with the shy and sensitive Bert Piggott accidentally finding the map to pirate treasure hidden many years ago by his great-great-great-great-grandfather. At first a quest for untold wealth seems the answer to all his problems but getting it means bringing along his scheming, ratbag family. Little does he know that what lies ahead are problems that even the pessimistic Bert could never imagine: the terror of turbulent seas aboard a ‘borrowed’ boat, capture by pirates, being marooned on the Isle of the Dead, and more.

  Piggotts in Peril is a warm, adventure-comedy about the origins of the universe, the evolution of humankind — and pirate treasure.

  About the Author

  Duncan Ball is an Australian author and scriptwriter, best known for his popular books for children. Among his most-loved works are the Selby books of stories plus the collections Selby’s Selection, Selby’s Joke Book and Selby’s Sidesplitting Joke Book. Some of these books have also been published in New Zealand, Germany, Japan and the USA, and have won countless awards, most of which were voted by the children themselves.

  Among Duncan’s other books are the Emily Eyefinger series about the adventures of a girl who was born with an eye on the end of her finger, and the comedy novels Piggott Place and Piggotts in Peril, about the frustrations of twelve-year-old Bert Piggott forever struggling to get his family of ratbags and dreamers out of the trouble they are constantly getting themselves into.

  Duncan lives in Sydney with his wife, Jill, and their cat, Jasper. Jasper often keeps Duncan company while he’s writing and has been known to help by walking on the keyboard. Once, returning to his work, Duncan found the following word had mysteriously appeared on screen: lkantawq

  By the Same Author

  Emily Eyefinger

  Emily Eyefinger, Secret Agent

  Emily Eyefinger and the Lost Treasure

  Emily Eyefinger and the Black Volcano

  Emily Eyefinger’s Alien Adventure

  Emily Eyefinger and the Devil Bones

  Emily Eyefinger and the Balloon Bandits

  Emily Eyefinger and the Ghost Ship

  Piggott Place

  Piggotts in Peril

  Selby’s Secret

  Selby Speaks

  Selby Screams

  Selby Supersnoop

  Selby Spacedog

  Selby Snowbound

  Selby Surfs

  Selby Snaps!

  Selby’s Joke Book

  Selby Splits

  Selby’s Selection

  Selby’s Stardom

  Selby’s Side-Splitting Joke Book

  Selby Sorcerer

  Selby Scrambled

  Copyright

  Angus&Robertson

  An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia

  First published in Australia in 1988

  This edition published in 2011

  by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited

  ABN 36 009 913 517

  Copyright © Duncan Ball 1988

  The right of Duncan Ball to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

  This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  HarperCollinsPublishers

  25 Ryde Road, Pymble, Sydney, NSW 2073, Australia

  31 View Road, Glenfield, Auckland 0627, New Zealand

  A 53, Sector 57, Noida, UP, India

  77–85 Fulham Palace Road, London, W6 8JB, United Kingdom

  2 Bloor Street East, 20th floor, Toronto, Ontario M4W 1A8, Canada

  10 East 53rd Street, New York NY 10022, USA

  National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

  Ball, Duncan

  Selby speaks / Duncan Ball.

  ISBN: 978-0-2072-0024-3 (pbk.)

  ISBN: 978-0-7304-9524-6 (ePub)

  1. Dogs – Juvenile fiction. I. Stomann,Allan. II.Title.

  A823’.3

  Cover design by Christabella Designs

 

 

 


‹ Prev