by Lou Kuenzler
Another perfect trick for a thief, I thought. No one could hear anything under those hoods. Or turn their heads. Or see what was going on behind them.
“I’ll give you more heat!” shouted Barry. “I’m afraid it’s a bit blowy, but your hair will be dry in no time.”
“Goodness! That is hot!” cried Cora, who was under the dryer nearest the door.
“At least it’ll kill any nits, if there really are any about!” giggled Dora.
“Don’t even mention those horrible little creatures!” Barry clutched his chest. He ducked round the back of the dryers and peered into the big round mirror on Cora and Dora’s wall. “Head lice like clean hair best, you know!” he said, scratching the thick blond curls poking up from the gap in his shirt. “That’s why I worry so much!”
I remembered the first time I’d seen Barry scratch his chest like that. It was in Gran’s room when he was leaning over her dressing table.
“Of course!” I gulped. That must be how Mrs Paterson’s diamond ring had ended up in the mug.
It made sense! I grabbed the edge of the skirting board to steady myself. Barry must have dropped the ring by mistake when he was peering into Gran’s mirror, scratching like mad!
“I’ll turn the temperature one spot higher, ladies?” he called as he poked his head round the front of the dryers again. “Don’t worry if you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up when you’re done.”
Now what was he up to? As I peered round the wastepaper bin, I could see him glancing over to the chest of drawers, where there were two little jewellery boxes. One had a D for Dora on the side. The other had C for Cora.
Barry touched the bulging pocket on his purple shiny shirt. That must be where he stuffs the stolen jewellery, I thought. That’s why the ring fell out when he leant forward to scratch his chest.
If I could just sneak up into his pocket, I could see if he’d put Mrs Paterson’s locket in there too. And I’d be ready if he took anything of Cora’s or Dora’s. I’d have to be quick, though, so he didn’t see me run across the floor.
“Get set…” I whispered under my breath. “Go!”
I from behind the wastepaper bin and across the rug. I was on the toe of Barry’s black leather cowboy boot in about two seconds flat. If there were a mini Olympics, I’d win a gold medal for the two-hundred-centimetre sprint!
Now all I had to do was climb up to Barry’s shirt pocket and check for jewellery. It was a long But I was getting good at this – and he was busy staring in the mirror, fluffing up his hair.
Barry’s cowboy boots were a great help. They had blue shiny jewels spread out up the sides, like the footholds on a climbing wall. And his trousers had silver studs up the seam like a mini ladder – so I could climb without him even knowing I was there.
If only everyone wore clothes decorated with jewels, I thought as I swung up the pearl buttons of his shirt. It would make getting around much easier for little spies like me! (I kept well away from his open collar and all that chest hair, though. I could get lost in there for days!)
With one last leap, I swung off a button and popped into the wide, bulging pocket on the front of Barry’s shirt.
I’d hoped I’d find the stolen jewellery – probably the locket, perhaps Mr Gupta’s gold watch. Or the twins’ earrings. But there was nothing in Barry’s pocket but a minty breath freshener spray, a sachet of orange fake tan and a tube of tooth glue. Strange! What did Barry want with That was the glue Mrs Paterson used to keep her false teeth in place.
I peeked out of Barry’s pocket and…
“Whoops!”
…I ducked down quick just as he stopped in front of the mirror to peer at himself again. If he looked down, he’d catch sight of me. He’d see me staring out of his pocket in his own reflection. I tried not to wriggle around too much either in case he felt me kicking against his chest.
I tipped my head back, resting my cheek on the packet of fake tan like a pillow.
“Perfect!”
From here, I could see Barry’s reflection in the mirror. But I didn’t have to poke my head above the top of his pocket. So Barry couldn’t see me.
“Just another few minutes!” he called out to the twins, who were still turned away from him under their dryers.
This is it, I thought. Any second now he’s going to steal something from them … and I’ll be right here to see it!
But Barry didn’t move from in front of the mirror. Instead, he did the strangest thing I have ever seen… He glanced over his shoulder one last time to check no one was looking … then he lifted his hair clean off the top of his head!
“YIKES!”
His long blond curls were nothing but a wig! Underneath it, Barry Bling was as bald as a boiled egg!
“Ha!” I know it’s mean, but a little giggle built up inside me.
No wonder Barry only ever scratches the hair on his chest, I thought. The hair on his head isn’t real!
As he stepped back from the mirror, I risked poking my head out of his pocket to see what he was going to do next. He stroked the wig as if it were a pet cat. Then he laid it down on top of the chest of drawers.
“Still nice and warm?” he called to the twins who were under their hairdryer hoods with their backs to him.
If only I could get down and investigate the wig closer. I was sure there was something suspicious about it. Otherwise, why would Barry risk taking it off in Cora and Dora’s room? It just didn’t make sense for someone so vain. But it wasn’t going to be easy to climb out of Barry’s pocket without him seeing me.
I’d have to be quick. I looked down at the fluffy blond curls lying on top of the drawers beneath me. The wig would make a lovely soft landing. Time for my most daring jump yet. I heaved myself up in Barry’s pocket. I balanced my feet on the top of his minty mouth-freshener spray and leapt into space…
on my best friend Nisha’s trampoline … and landed safely in the curls of the wig.
“Ouch!” The bed of hair wasn’t half as soft as I’d expected; something hard and pointy dug into my back.
Barry glanced down. I – sure that he’d seen me amongst the curls. But his hand shot past me to the two jewellery boxes beside the wig.
“Nice!” whistled Barry under his breath. He took a silver bracelet from each box and stood for a moment, weighing them in his hands.
“If you’ve got anything precious, ladies, make sure you keep it locked up with all this horrible thieving going on!” he shouted to the twins. “You can’t be too careful!”
“Thank you! You are kind to look after us!” called back Cora from under her dryer.
Anger shot through me like a bolt of lightning.
How could Barry get away with this? As usual, he was pretending to be Mr Nicey-Nice!
“We don’t own anything precious, Barry dear,” hollered Cora. “Not since our earrings were stolen. We’ve just got a couple of old bracelets our father gave us when we were girls. They mean the world to us, of course. But they’re not worth any money.”
“They’re not even real silver,” chipped in Dora.
Behind their backs, Barry’s bald head into a frown. Then he shrugged and kept hold of the bracelets anyway.
“I expect they’re quite old now,” he said. “You never know how much things like that might be worth.”
“Thief!” I cried, but no one heard me.
Barry Bling might be a horrible person – picking on little old ladies who don’t have much money and can’t protect themselves – but he was horribly clever, too!
Here he was, about, stealing from lovely old Cora and Dora while they were In the same room! Under a hairdryer hood… It was like Mrs Paterson and the cucumber slices all over again.
“Cora! Dora!” I cried. But it was no use.
If I didn’t stop Barry, no one would ever realize he was the thief.
The first thing I needed to do was investigate the wig. I was just about to peek underneath it when Barry leant down and stroked it with his finger
s. His hand was so close it almost brushed against me. Not daring to move, I stared at his nearest ring. It was a big grinning skull with diamond eyes. I slipped behind a roll of curls and shuddered. With those fat fingers, Barry could squash me in a second. I had a nasty feeling he wouldn’t think twice about stopping anybody who got in his way. I’d been crazy to make so much noise and risk being seen. If I wanted to prove that Barry was the thief, I mustn’t let him catch me first.
I scampered out of sight, ducking behind the D for Dora jewellery box.
“A couple more minutes under those dryers and you’ll be done, ladies,” Barry called.
Taking care to stay hidden, I peeked round the edge of the box, poking my head out as if I were playing a scary game of hide-and-seek.
Barry took hold of the wig and flipped it over.
In spite of everything, a tiny gasp escaped me. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Barry Bling’s wig was of
It sparkled like a wicked pirate’s hoard of treasure. There were necklaces, earrings, bracelets and Mr Gupta’s gold watch – everything that had been stolen from the old people was there. It looked as if Barry hadn’t even sold anything yet. He was probably waiting for the fuss to die down.
I shivered, realizing again how horribly clever he had been. Mrs Paterson’s diamond ring had been found when the nurses searched Gran’s room. But if anyone searched Barry’s beauty case, or even his flat, they wouldn’t find a thing.
All the jewellery Barry had stolen was in the very last place anyone would EVER think to look. It was safe inside his wig.
I tiptoed further forward and peered round the edge of a photo frame.
I thought about what Barry had told Mrs Paterson on the veranda earlier.
“Wearing precious jewels is the very best way to keep them safe,” he’d said.
…And here he was with a whole hoard of goodies hidden away inside a secret wig nobody even knew he wore. It must have been pretty uncomfortable when it was on his head. I remembered the hard lump when I’d landed on the wig. And I was surprised everything didn’t fall out…
But then I saw what Barry was up to. He had taken the tube of false-teeth glue out of his pocket. He was working quickly, beads of sweat shining on his bald head as he squeezed a blob of on to the inside of the wig. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the gold locket he’d stolen from Mrs Paterson on the veranda. Barry stuck the locket into the blob of glue.
So that’s what the was for! Barry stuck the jewellery inside his wig so that nothing would fall out when he was wearing it. Mrs Paterson had said was strong enough to hold her false teeth in place even if she chewed on a REALLY sticky toffee. It must be strong enough to hold the jewellery steady too.
“Nearly ready, ladies,” Barry called, looking towards the twins underneath their dryers.
The minute his head was turned, I stuck my hand out to test the glue. I don’t know why I did it. It was like the time my Uncle Dan took me swimming at the seaside. I touched a jellyfish, just to see if it would sting me. (It did!) It was the same with the glue. There it was, oozing all around the locket. I just had to know how sticky it was.
It turns out … it was The minute my tiny fingers touched the glue, I couldn’t move them any more. I was stuck to the inside of the wig!
Barry turned back to the mirror. He lifted the wig (and me!) on to his head.
As soon as his wig was back on, Barry glanced at himself in the mirror. Then he hurried over to turn the dryers off. If he’d looked any closer, he’d have seen my tiny face peering out from under his fringe. With shaking fingers, I quickly pulled a curl over my head with my one free hand. The other hand was still stuck down in the glue. Now that my whole body was inside the wig, my legs, back and bum were stuck solid too.
“All done!” said Barry. He released the twins from their space helmet dryers. “You both look gorgeous,” he said, fluffing up their hair. “Could one of you lovely ladies be a darling and pop out to the veranda for me? Tell Mrs Paterson I’ll be out to take off her face mask in a moment. I’ve got a little job to do first.”
What was he up to now? The nicer Barry pretended to be, the more I hated him! How could he fool people so easily? The kind old twins trusted him. Mrs Paterson trusted him. So did Nurse Bridget … even Gran.
“Thank you, my dears!” Barry blew them a kiss, then sped out of the bedroom door with me stuck helplessly inside his wig.
Where’s he off to in such a hurry? I thought. I glanced hopelessly from side to side. Although my body was stuck solid, my little head bobbed and underneath his fringe, poking out like a face from a sleeping bag.
Then Barry skidded to a stop … right outside Gran’s room!
What was he doing here? My chest thumped. Gran wouldn’t have ordered a beauty treatment. Not when she was so worried about the jewellery thefts.
“Mrs Short,” he whispered, opening the door. “Are you in?”
Gran’s bedside light was on but she was still under the covers. Not even her head was poking out.
“Are you awake?” whispered Barry.
Gran didn’t answer.
“I’ve brought you a nice packet of face mask,” Barry said, across the room. “It’s Egyptian Nile mud… I’ll just put it here, on your dressing table. Mud is very soothing if you’re worried and stressed.”
Gran still didn’t say a word.
Peeping out from under Barry’s fringe, I saw him place the face mask on the edge of Gran’s dressing table.
“Phew!” It was getting hot under this wig. I was trying to blink the sweat out of my eyes when I . Barry was still holding the two silver bracelets he’d taken from Cora and Dora. Of course! He’d never put them under his wig.
He dangled them in the air for a moment, then dropped the two small, silver chains into the mug. Exactly the same place that the stolen diamond ring had been found.
“Stop!” My voice was muffled as I inside the wig, trying to kick my tiny glued-down feet against Barry’s big bald head. I didn’t care if he caught me now. So much the better! Gran would wake up and we could stop him together. “Take those bracelets back!”
I knew what Barry was doing! He didn’t want to keep the bracelets for himself. He knew they weren’t valuable. But if he left them in Gran’s room, everyone would be even more sure that she was the thief!
“Don’t you dare do this, Barry Bling!” I wriggled around like a glued-down caterpillar, pounding at his forehead with my one free hand.
Barry leapt about two metres in the air. He began madly scratching his head. “Help!” he cried. “Help! I’ve got nits.”
Gran sat up in bed.
“Barry? What are you doing here? Whatever is the matter?” she gasped.
“Nits!” cried Barry again. “I can feel them nibbling under my hair.”
“Under your hair?” said Gran.
“In my hair,” said Barry, trying to sound calmer. “I mean, in my hair. This is all Violet’s fault! I told you she was infested with nits. Now she passed them on to me!”
“I haven’t got nits!” I hissed, even more. “But I’m going to act like a nit. I’m going to make you itch and itch, Barry Bling!”
“Come here, Barry,” said Gran, swinging her legs out of bed and turning on the main light. “Bend down. I’ll have a look in your hair.”
“No!” Barry leapt across to the other side of the room … probably remembering that his hair wasn’t hair at all. It was a wig. And it was full of stolen jewellery!
“Don’t be such a baby!” Gran grabbed a comb off her bedside table. “Come on!”
“I’m fine!” Barry tried to dodge sideways. But Gran was after him. She’d had plenty of practice at trying to catch me when I didn’t want to comb my hair.
“Come on! I’ll just have a look,” she said.
“Please don’t!” begged Barry, trying a new approach. “I’m too embarrassed.”
I my legs again and he began to scratch like mad.
The more I wriggled, t
he more he itched. I couldn’t help it. I began to laugh.
“Oh dear!”
My whole body was shaking now. The thought of Barry Bling the Big BAD jewellery thief getting in such a state because he thought he had nits in his wig was just too much for me!
And then…
The next thing I knew I’d shot back to . Tears of laughter were streaming down my face.
I looked down and saw that I was sitting right on top of bald-headed Barry. He was pinned to the ground underneath me. I’d broken free of the glue when I had grown. But there I was. Still in my pyjamas … with Barry’s wig resting, lopsided, on the top of my head!
“What? … How? … Where did you come from?” he gasped.
But I just grinned.
“Got you, thief!” I said. “You’re under arrest, Barry Bling!”
A week later, Gran and I stood in the queue to ride
Gran was grinning from ear to ear and wearing her favourite rainbow-striped top.
Mum was worried Gran shouldn’t go on the ride, but Nurse Bridget had checked that it was OK for old people. As long as they didn’t have a heart condition, it was fine.
Cora, Dora and Mr Gupta were all giving it a go too. And Nurse Bridget. They were giggling like schoolchildren in the queue behind me.
“It is VERY tall!” said Cora.
“Huge!” agreed Dora.
I was trying hard not to get too excited! After all, I didn’t want to shrink before I was measured for the ride.
But I couldn’t help it.
I cried, flinging my arms in the air and nearly bopping poor old Mr Gupta in the face.
“Quite right! You enjoy it, my dear!” he said.
“Yes,” agreed Cora smiling and wrinkling up her freckled nose. “This is your treat, Violet. After all, you are the one who solved the mystery of the jewellery thefts.”
“Not that I’ll ever understand quite how you worked it all out!” said Dora.
“Oh, it was easy, really,” I shrugged.
“Violet just followed a few tiny little clues!” giggled Gran.
We’d decided it was best not to try and explain too much.
“Shrinking is a tricky business,” Gran had reminded me. “The world may not be ready for your little talent quite yet!”
