Danielle headed for the guy in the leather overcoat, the one whose stall had got knocked over by Muddy. She seemed flustered and was trying to ask him about something. However, he couldn’t speak a word of English, and she couldn’t speak a word of French (I don’t think they’d done any French at her previous school, and as she’d only been at St. Egbert’s a few weeks, she’d hardly had time to learn how to say hello).
Their “conversation” was getting increasingly heated and confused. I hurried over to Danielle.
“Hi, can I help?”
Danielle almost jumped out of her skin. “Oh! Er, no, thanks, it’s fine, Saxby, thanks.”
“I can translate your question, if you like,” I said. “Of course, I might ask the guy if I can borrow his pig’s wellies, or something, but I can give it a go.”
“No, really,” said Danielle hurriedly, “thanks, but no, I was only seeing if he had any more of the postcard packs he had the other day.”
I knew at once that she was lying and that she was covering up whatever it was she really wanted to ask him.
Have you spotted it too?
There were no postcards on that stand the other day. I’d taken a good look when Izzy, Muddy, and I had bought those Eiffel Tower piggy banks. Speaking of those piggy banks, I now noticed that the vendor had sold the fourth and last of them.
The piggy banks! I suddenly remembered that Harry had particularly admired those piggy banks! He knew that Izzy, Muddy, and I had each bought one. He must have made Danielle go searching through our bags, to steal one for him. But Danielle, being honest, hadn’t had the heart to do it. Harry had obviously threatened her again, and so here she was, back at the souvenir stand, trying to BUY one for him instead.
I took her to one side. And here’s the eye-popping shock, coming up right now.
“Danielle,” I said quietly. “I know Harry’s been bullying you over something. He’s done it before. But don’t worry, I can help you stop him.”
“Stop who?” she said.
“Harry. Harry Lovecraft.”
She looked blankly at me. She genuinely didn’t know what I was talking about. Eye-popping shock! “Is he the boy with the shiny hair and the shiny shoes?”
“Y-yes,” I stammered. “You mean, he hasn’t threatened you?”
“What?” she blinked. “No, absolutely not. What are you going on about?” She walked away quickly, joining some of the other girls at a nearby stand.
What? What? But if…That meant…I didn’t…W-what?
Eye-popping shock number two:
A couple of minutes later, as the girls were grabbing up the last of the stock from the souvenir stands, Mrs. Penzler led her group through the courtyard. They were heading, at a brisk pace, to the area around Sacré-Coeur to see the street artists at work.
“Mrs. Penzler,” I cried, “you’ve got your watch on!”
“Yes, Saxby!” she said, not slowing down for a second. “I went back to my room and looked again, and there it was, wedged down between the mattress and the headboard of my bed. I knew it had to be around somewhere. Come along, my group, we’ll take the Metro north!”
Eye-popping shock! If that watch was never stolen in the first place…But that would mean that…How did that…?
Eye-popping shock number three:
Still reeling from the first two eye-popping shocks, I got permission to retreat to the café next to the hotel. I thought I’d catch up on the DeSalle trial back home, to take my mind off the wild criss-cross of thoughts that were now bouncing around inside my head.
I paid for ten minutes of Internet access, looked up one of the English news sites, and printed out the latest report. I read it on my way back to the hotel.
Desalle Trial Heats Up
On day four of the trial of Frank “Iceman” DeSalle and nine other defendants, the court was given details of how DeSalle, along with his personal lawyer Jeffrey Ffoules-Hampstead and his personal trainer Bob Trackenfield, are alleged to have conned thirty-six old ladies out of their life savings and stolen cash from shops when the assistants weren’t looking.
It was claimed by an undercover police officer, Sgt. Donna Fitzgerald, that Mr. DeSalle personally took money from 97-year-old Mrs. Edith Nesbit and used this money to buy racing cars, expensive holidays, and items from the SwordStore catalogue. An expert witness, the senior accountant Mr. Colin Plummley, was called to give evidence. He demonstrated the methods that DeSalle and his personal chef, Joey “Bug-Face” Smith, are alleged to have used to conceal these illegal activities, swapping cash through various bank accounts in order to hide it.
Two further witnesses—Veronica Clarke and Harold King, both ex-members of the DeSalle gang—gave evidence to support yesterday’s allegations that Mr. DeSalle and his personal hairdresser, William Nickleby, robbed four security trucks, three lorries carrying items of jewelry, and an ice cream van (although this last crime is said to have been a case of mistaken identity). These witnesses also made statements regarding the claims that Mr. DeSalle used his FaceSpace web page to contact fellow criminals using coded messages.
Mr. DeSalle and the other defendants deny all charges. The case continues.
I was glad I’d taken time out like this. What an entertainingly stupid bunch of crooks the DeSalle gang were! Naturally, if I’d been on the case, I’d have…
Hang on. I read through the report again. Eye–popping shock! There was a direct personal connection between the DeSalle trial and the people here, on the St. Egbert’s school trip to Paris!
Have you noticed it?
Danielle again! Her surname was Plummley. The only personal information she’d let slip was that her dad was an accountant (see Chapter Two!). And an accountant called Colin Plummley had been called as an expert witness in the trial (an expert witness is someone who has no actual connection with the trial, but who knows a lot about a particular subject—in this case, money matters—and so can advise the court).
Okay, Plummley wasn’t that unusual a name, and there was probably more than one Mr. Plummley in the world who worked as an accountant. But it was enough of a coincidence to start ringing the bell marked: Uh-oh, there’s something else going on here.
Suddenly, like snow settling on the roof of my shed on a winter’s day, the pieces of the entire puzzle fell delicately into place. Standing there, on that street corner in Paris, I realized exactly what had been going on. I also realized that I would need to have a quiet word with Harry Lovecraft and with Danielle, and then say nothing to anyone until we were all back at school the following week.
How much of it can you piece together?
Chapter Six
Exactly one week later, at 8:50 a.m., back at St. Egbert’s, the bell rang for the start of school, and there was a mighty scraping of chair legs and shuffling of feet as my class settled itself down. Mrs. Penzler tapped her ruler for silence.
“Before registration, Saxby has asked me if he can talk to you. As you all know, since the memory card of the school’s camera was lost in Paris, we’ve been unable to use any pictures in our follow-up projects…”
Izzy went tomato-red with embarrassment again.
“…But Saxby claims to have located the card. How, I can’t imagine. You’d better be right about this, Saxby.”
Murmurs rippled through the classroom. Half of them were murmuring with excitement, and half of them were murmuring with disbelief.
“Oh, I’m sure I’m right,” I said, hopping up to the front of the class with my school bag. “Well, pretty sure. Before I continue, I’d better say that I’ve asked Danielle Plummley’s permission to tell you this…” Everyone looked at Danielle. “…and I’ve, er, done a deal with Harry Lovecraft that will help me prove what I’m telling you is true.”
Everyone looked at Harry. He was aiming a slimy grin at me. He clearly thought I was about to make a fool of myself again and was loving every minute of it.
“As you’ve probably all seen on the news,” I said, “the tria
l of Frank ‘Iceman’ DeSalle ended yesterday. The whole gang was sent to prison for years. Open and shut case. Nasty bunch of crooks, got what they deserved. Naturally, I’d have solved the case in half the time, but, er, that’s beside the point. ‘What has that news story got to do with us?’ I hear you say. Well, quite a lot. The DeSalle trial is what led to the vanishing of that memory card.”
Another ripple of murmurs spread across the classroom. This time it was nearly all murmurs of disbelief.
“And here’s how,” I said. “Danielle Plummley has only been at St. Egbert’s for a few weeks. Up to now, we’ve known her as a shy, quiet member of our class. And that’s because she’s had a secret. Her dad, a well-respected accountant, was called to be an expert witness in the DeSalle trial. His evidence was vital when it came to finding DeSalle and his henchmen guilty.
“Now, as you can imagine, any honest, law-abiding man who spends his days talking about bank statements, pension funds, and savings and loan association interest rates isn’t exactly Mr. Wild and Exciting. No offense, Danielle…”
“None taken.”
“…Mr. Plummley leads a sensible, quiet life. By nature, he’s a reserved sort of person, rather like his daughter. So suddenly finding himself dragged into the world of high-powered crime was a bit of a shock. He knew he shouldn’t refuse to be an expert witness: after all, if DeSalle and his gang were going to be successfully jailed, the police would need Mr. Plummley’s advice. He saw it as his duty to help, just as any of us would.
“However, the Plummleys are also no different from the rest of us in that they’d heard stories. Stories about crooks threatening witnesses, stories about criminal gangs taking revenge on anyone who crossed them. Stories like that are headline news.
“In the DeSalle case, something like that was very unlikely to happen to the Plummleys. For one thing, Mr. Plummley was only giving the court his expert opinion, he wasn’t an actual witness to the crimes. And for another thing, the DeSalle mob might have been nasty little lowlifes, but they’d never resorted to beatings, or murders, or anything like that.
“But the Plummleys don’t know that. They see the headline news like the rest of us. So, of course, they’re nervous. Until DeSalle is locked up in prison, they’re worried about their safety.
“What’s more, they’ve recently moved to a new house, and Danielle is about to go to a new school, this school. Mr. and Mrs. Plummley, not knowing how far the tentacles of the DeSalle gang reach, tell Danielle that under no circumstances is she to tell anyone at her new school about the trial. Just stay silent, they say, until the trial is over. We’re in a new town and we don’t know anyone and we should play it safe.
“So, Danielle arrives in school and much as we like her, we find she’s not saying anything about herself or her family. In fact, the one and only piece of information that she lets slip is the fact that her dad’s an accountant.
“And then, the school trip to Paris is announced. Danielle’s parents tell her she can’t go, it’s too much of a risk. What if DeSalle’s henchmen decide to strike? No, they don’t want Danielle off in a foreign country at exactly the time when the trial will be taking place. But Danielle is desperate to go. She’s studied art history, it’s a subject she loves. She really, really, really wants to go to Paris and see the Louvre and all the fabulous art that’s in it.
“Reluctantly, her parents agree to let her go. On the understanding that, while she’s away, her silence on the DeSalle case is more important than ever. Danielle promises them she’ll stick to the plan.
“So, a few days later, we’re in Paris. On our visit to the Louvre, Danielle suddenly dazzles us with her knowledge of the Mona Lisa and Leonardo da Vinci. She can’t help herself, it’s her favorite topic in the entire world. The rest of us are hugely impressed.
“And here’s where it starts to go wrong. Walking back to the hotel, Izzy announces she’s going to blog the whole Paris trip and make a special feature of Danielle’s talk at the Louvre. What’s more, the blog is going to appear on FaceSpace, the same Web site that figures in the DeSalle trial. In other words, Danielle Plummley, daughter of expert witness Colin Plummley, is about to get featured on a Web site that the DeSalle gang themselves use, and which is getting a lot of attention because of the DeSalle trial.
“Danielle panics. She simply can’t tell us all the truth, but at the same time she can’t allow that blog to get uploaded revealing the school she now attends and the area her family lives in. So she does the only thing she can think of: she sneaks the school camera out of Izzy’s pocket and takes the memory card. Why? Because she’s heard, during our conversation, that Izzy’s password program is needed to access her blog and that the password program is on the memory card of the school camera.
“Danielle intends to keep the card for only a few days, until the trial is over. She hates the idea of stealing it, but what else can she do? Unfortunately, before she can get the camera back into Izzy’s pocket, it’s noticed that the camera is gone.
“We all search for it. When nobody’s looking, Danielle puts the camera on the ground, where I find it. Now, if I’d kept my big mouth shut, that might have been the end of it. The memory card would be lost and then, after the trial, found again. But no, I had to do my detective bit. I spotted that the memory card had been deliberately taken.
“So, everyone is made to turn out their pockets. Poor Danielle panics again. The memory card will now be found, and found in her pocket. Either she gets labeled a thief, or she has to tell the truth. What can she do? Okay, with hindsight, maybe telling Mrs. Penzler quietly what was going on might have saved a lot of trouble. But Danielle’s the new girl. She doesn’t really know any of us, including the teachers. And she’s under strict instructions not to let the cat out of the bag!
“On the point of Danielle’s secret being discovered, she has a bit of luck. Muddy knocks over a souvenir stand on which there are, among other things, four Eiffel Tower piggy banks. Spotting her chance, Danielle rushes over to help Muddy pick everything up and, while doing so, she slips the memory card into the coin slot of one of the piggy banks. She decides to simply buy the piggy bank and retrieve the card. In the meantime, the card isn’t found in the search and Danielle’s secret remains safe.
“As soon as the search is done, she goes over to the stand to buy the piggy bank. But Mrs. Penzler calls her away. She is forced to leave it where it is for now.
“A little while later, after lunch, we all go souvenir hunting. By the time Danielle can return to the stand, all four of the piggy banks have been sold! She’s very upset—she thinks the memory card is gone forever. But then she discovers that Izzy, Muddy, and I have ALL bought those same Eiffel Tower piggy banks.”
“So where did the fourth one go?” said Mrs. Penzler.
“Ah, I’ll get to that in a minute,” I said. “Danielle now reasons to herself that there’s a very good chance the memory card is inside one of those three. During breakfast the next morning, she sneaks into Izzy’s room, and then into my and Muddy’s room, to open up the piggy banks and check. But, all three turn out to be empty. Danielle realizes that the memory card was in the fourth piggy bank. It’s now well and truly gone—there’s no way she’ll be able to catch up with that fourth Eiffel Tower now.
“When the searched-through suitcases are discovered, I start putting two and two together and making five and a half. I start suspecting that Harry Lovecraft is up to his old tricks, especially when Mrs. Penzler’s watch goes missing too. I suspect that Harry is threatening Danielle in some way, and getting her to steal things for him.”
I cleared my throat. This next bit wasn’t going to be easy.
“Okay,” I said, “as part of my deal with Harry, I’m now going to…apologize to Harry…in public…for suspecting him.”
More murmurs across the classroom. Harry eyed me gleefully. He really was enjoying this enormously.
“Harry was entirely innocent,” I said. “I realized it when three eye-p
opping shocks turned up one after the other. The decider was the report on the DeSalle trial I downloaded in the café next door to the hotel. It showed me the connection between Danielle and the trial, and the entire truth suddenly dawned on me.”
“But where is the memory card?” said Mrs. Penzler. “You claimed you’d tracked it down.”
“And so I have,” I said. I reached down and pulled a parcel out of my bag. This was the same package Harry Lovecraft had mailed back home from the Hotel Marseilles.
“As the other part of my deal with Harry,” I said, “he’s let me have this package he sent from Paris. It wasn’t opened when it arrived, as his stepmother had just walked out on his dad for forgetting her birthday again. At my request, Harry has left it sealed up.
“You see, I saw Danielle talking to the owner of that souvenir stand on the day after the suitcases were searched. If she’d found the memory card in one of the first three Eiffel Towers, she wouldn’t have needed to return to the stand at all, but she was making one last attempt to find out where that fourth Eiffel Tower had gone.
“Seeing her there, I thought she was trying to buy the last of the Eiffel Tower piggy banks for Harry. Why did I think that? Because only moments after Izzy, Muddy, and I bought our piggy banks, we bumped into Harry. He made it clear that he liked those piggy banks very much.
“What I hadn’t realized was that Harry, straight after we’d bumped into him, went over to that stand and bought the last piggy bank, the fourth one, for himself. That was why Danielle had found all four of them gone, two days before! That was why she was upset after she couldn’t find the memory card in the first three piggy banks. That was why she thought the memory card was now gone forever.
“Harry told me he’d mailed two souvenirs back home. I should have listened to him more carefully. I should have asked him what that second souvenir was. But I didn’t. Quite innocently, Harry had bought the fourth piggy bank, the one with the memory card hidden inside it.
The Pirate's Blood and Other Case Files Page 11
