by Holly Webb
The metal rungs creaked and wobbled under her boots as she climbed, and Eddie was starting to whine, but at last Maisie felt the fresh air blowing around her face. She was out! It was still very dark, of course, but there was a lamp lit somewhere up the road. Out here the darkness didn’t seem to be wrapped round Maisie like a choking blanket, the way it had underground.
“The fountain,” Maisie whispered, as she clambered up. “We’re behind the fountain in Albion End. That’s how he disappeared!” She crouched behind the stonework, and peeped round it, wondering which way the man had gone.
Eddie scrambled out of the basket, shaking his ears in relief. And then, suddenly, he yelped.
Maisie gasped as the darkness thickened again and a figure leaned over her. Just as the man reached down to grab her arm, Eddie snapped at his trouser leg, throwing him off balance, and giving Maisie time to dart away.
“Eddie, run!” Maisie cried.
Her one thought was to get to the safety of home. The man had spotted her. Had he heard her climbing up after him, perhaps? He must have been lying in wait for her behind the fountain…
Maisie and Eddie raced down Albion End, towards the alley at the back of their house. Maisie was gasping for breath and she could hear the man thundering behind her. What if he followed her all the way home? What about Gran and Sally? It was the middle of the night, so hopefully Fred would be in his room. That is, if he hadn’t stayed away all night at the Yard again…
There was a grunt behind her and she felt fingers snatch at her shawl. Maisie dragged herself away, stumbling and flinging herself round the corner and into the alley. She was almost there!
But it was dark, and she had dropped the lantern while she was running, and the latch on the back gate at number 31 was so stiff… Maisie fumbled with it, her fingers stupid with fright and her breath heaving so much she couldn’t call out.
“Got you!” the man snarled behind her, and Maisie shoved hard at the door. It gave under her hand, but before she could dart into the back yard, a huge hand covered her mouth.
“Nosy little kid, what were you doing down there in the tunnels, hey?” He didn’t take his hand off her mouth to let her answer, though. “Well, you’re not going to tell anyone what you saw, missy. Come on.”
Eddie barked madly as Maisie kicked and struggled and tried to break free. But the man was holding her too tightly and he began to pull her back down the alley.
Then, suddenly, there was a light spilling out of the kitchen door, and a great stamping and shouting in the yard.
The man holding Maisie cursed, and tried to drop her and run away, but she could see Eddie darting out of the yard again to snap at the man’s trousers. Following him was Fred, and the professor, and a whole host of angry policemen.
Maisie clung on to the man’s arm, trying to weigh him down, and Mr Grange seized him around the neck.
The professor stood in the alleyway with a most deadly looking revolver, snarling, “One step and I shoot!” And the man stood still, cursing furiously, while Mr Grange snapped handcuffs around his wrists.
“Of course I reported you missing, Maisie!” Gran said crossly, handing her a mug of cocoa. The policemen had finally left, and they were gathered in the kitchen, eager to hear more about the gang. “Well, not officially. But when Mr Grange got home, Sally and the professor and I were in a proper state, worrying about where you’d got to. I told Mr Grange that you’d disappeared, and I thought the poor man was going to faint. He admitted he was a policeman, and he told me you might have gone off after this Sparrow Gang.”
“See, he wasn’t as boring as he looked,” Maisie put in, but Gran wasn’t listening.
“He sent for reinforcements at once. All those policemen in my kitchen! I was shocked, Maisie! Though not as shocked as Miss Barnes will be, of course, when I tell her about her lodger…” Gran’s mouth twisted at the corner in a tiny smile, but then she looked serious again. “Anyway, Maisie Hitchins, you’re a silly, irresponsible, badly behaved little girl. And you’re not leaving this house until I don’t know when! I’ve never been so worried! What would I say to your father in my next letter? Oh yes, I let Maisie run off hunting art thieves, and she seems to have disappeared? How could you?”
“But she did catch one of the gang redhanded,” Professor Tobin pointed out.
“He caught her!” Gran exclaimed, slapping a plate of sandwiches down on the table. “If it hadn’t been for you, Professor, hearing Eddie barking and dashing out into the yard like that, we might never have seen her again!”
“Let’s not think about that,” the professor said hurriedly. “Hopefully he’ll turn in the rest of the gang, now they’ve got him under lock and key.”
“Maisie ought to get a reward,” Sally said.
“She ought to be sent to bed with no supper,” Gran snapped. “And here I am using up a whole jar of fish paste, instead. Just don’t you ever do anything like that again, Maisie.”
Maisie nodded, but she was smiling into her cocoa. She could tell from Gran’s voice that, actually, she was rather proud of her detective granddaughter.
“You shouldn’t have done it, Maisie!” Alice said, sounding almost as cross as Gran. She set down her tea cup on the little table in Maisie’s bedroom with a clatter and reached for a biscuit. “It was terribly dangerous! Papa and I were very worried when your grandmother came asking after you last night. I had no idea where you were! But I suppose it was very exciting,” she admitted, with a little sigh. “So who was he, that man who chased you? Do you know yet?”
Maisie nodded. “Mr Grange told me about it this morning. At the Yard,” she added. She couldn’t help smiling as she said it. It had been so exciting, going down there with Gran, almost as though she were a real detective. “He’s called Henry Logan. The police were sure he was dealing in stolen paintings, but they couldn’t prove anything until now. Charlie Sparrow stole the paintings, hid them in the tunnel, and signalled to Bert with the posters. And then Bert signalled to Henry with the washing lines. Henry’s got a rented room in Glentworth Street, with a view of next-door’s back yard. It was perfect for spotting the signals.”
“And the lady with the big hat?” Alice frowned.
“She’s Charlie Sparrow’s wife, Peggy. She was wearing that same hat when they arrested her. They’ve got the whole Sparrow Gang now,” Maisie said proudly. “And they think they’ll be able to get the paintings back too. Henry Logan had a little book in his waistcoat pocket, with the names of all the buyers.”
“Well, I hope you’re going to get a reward,” Alice said. “Seeing as you were the one who solved the case.”
Maisie sighed. “I don’t think I will. But Mr Grange said he was very grateful. After he’d finished telling me off for putting myself in danger, that is. He’s going to be made an inspector.” She giggled. “And he sent me this enormous tin of Libbey’s Biscuits. I think that’s my reward.”
“That’s not fair!” Alice said.
“I don’t mind.” Maisie rubbed Eddie’s ears, and he gave her chin a sloppy lick. “I still know it was me that caught the Sparrow Gang. Maybe one day I can write my memoirs, and everyone else will know too.”
When Maisie rescues an abandoned puppy, he quickly leads her to her first case. George, the butcher’s boy, has been sacked for stealing, but Maisie’s sure he’s innocent. It’s time for Maisie to put her detective skills to the test as she follows the trail of the missing money…
When star-of-the-stage Sarah Massey comes to visit, Maisie senses a mystery. Sarah is distraught – her fiancé has given her a priceless emerald necklace and now it’s gone missing. Maisie sets out to investigate, but nothing is what it seems in the theatrical world of make-believe…
Maisie has been invited to the country as a companion for her best friend, Alice. But as soon as the girls arrive, they are warned that the manor house they’re staying in is haunted. With Alice terrified by the strange goings-on, it’s up to Maisie to prove there’s no such thi
ng as ghosts…
Maisie loves to look at the amazing objects her friend Professor Tobin has collected on his travels around the world. But when a thief steals a rare and valuable wooden mask, leaving only a feather behind, Maisie realizes she has a new mystery on her hands…
Maisie’s best friend, Alice, has disappeared from her fancy new boarding school. The only clue is an inkwell spilled across Alice’s desk, and a trail of suspicious paw prints. Will Maisie be able to find her friend before Alice ends up in real danger?
Copyright
STRIPES PUBLISHING
An imprint of Little Tiger Press
1 The Coda Centre, 189 Munster Road,
London SW6 6AW
Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2014
Illustrations copyright © Marion Lindsay, 2014
First published in Great Britain in 2014
eISBN: 978–1–84715–562–7
The right of Holly Webb and Marion Lindsay to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any forms, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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