Davina Dupree Catches a Crook

by SK Sheridan

  ‘Dr Aardvark!’ Arabella said. ‘What on earth are you all doing up here? I thought Mrs Fairchild had provided a specially equipped suite of rooms for you and your animals? Why aren’t you all there?’

  ‘It’s all gone horribly wrong,’ Dr Aardvark snivelled, clutching at his arm. He didn’t look like an adventurous hero now, more like a whiny school boy. ‘I don’t like these animals anymore, I want someone to come and take them all away. We all came to hide up here after I realized it was my Brazilian Wandering Spider, Lethal, who’d poisoned Mrs Fairchild by biting her.’ Arabella and I gasped. ‘She escaped one night after Monty opened the door when I was asleep - he’s such a stupid animal, he even does that up here in the attic. I didn’t realize she was missing straight away, as I don’t really like spiders so I try not to check my spider collection regularly. But when I realized she’d gone – and I’m guessing that oaf Monty let her out when I wasn’t looking – I went hunting round the school and found her crawling out from underneath Mrs Fairchild’s study door. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what happened, does it?’

  ‘But why did you come and hide up here, Dr Aardvark?’ I asked, feeling confused. ‘Why didn’t you do the right thing and own up to what had happened?’

  ‘Because, you stupid child, I’m not the REAL Dr Aardvark, am I? I’m just someone who looks a bit like him - Eddie Barrow’s my real name. I didn’t want the police to start sniffing about, asking me awkward questions, because I thought they might realize I don’t have the right licenses, qualifications or training to be looking after any of these blasted animals. The real Dr Aardvark lives in South America, which you bunch of idiots would have realized if you’d done your research properly.’

  ‘What?’ Arabella shrieked, stepping forwards. ‘You mean you’re a fraud? And all this time you’ve had the cheek to accuse poor Mr Fossil of being a rubbish teacher! At least he’s a REAL teacher with REAL qualifications.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Eddie Barrow spat, clutching his arm tighter. ‘When I saw the advert in the paper for a geography teacher at posh old Egmont Exclusive Boarding School for Girls, I knew it would pay better money than gutting fish, which is what I used to do before. Everyone always said I looked like the famous explorer, Dr Aardvark, so I thought – why not give it a go? Why not pretend to be him and see if I can’t get myself a well-paid job? So I got in touch with friend of mine who’s a bit of a dodgy fellow and can get anything anyone wants at the right price, if you know what I mean, and he somehow got hold of this collection of animals for me. And you’re all so stupid you fell for it!’

  ‘You rotten crook!’ I said, wishing a policeman was here listening to Eddie Barrow’s appalling confession. ‘So why are you just lying around, clutching your arm, telling us all this? Surely you’ve just blown your cover?’

  ‘I’m telling you all this,’ Eddie said. ‘Because my stupid Brazilian Wandering Spider, Lethal, went and bit ME two days ago and now I feel so ill I can’t get up.’

  ‘Serves you right,’ Arabella said, her face as hard as stone.

  ‘Look, just go and get help, will you? I haven’t had a drink for twenty four hours now and I’m parched,’ Eddie wheedled.

  ‘So haven’t the animals had a drink for that long either?’ I asked, eying the empty chocolate cereal packets lying around the room.

  ‘No and they’ve finished all the cereal too. I love Choc Pops and they’re so greedy they eat more than their fair share. But who cares about them? I’m the important one here, I’m the one that needs saving,’ Eddie Barrow said, sounding mega pathetic. ‘I don’t even like animals. When I get out of here I don’t ever want to see another one again.’

  ‘You are the most rotten, awful, pathetic, horrible person I’ve ever met,’ Arabella said, her red curls boinging around with fury. ‘We ARE going to get help, not for you but for these poor animals who’ve obviously been neglected and badly treated. You don’t feed wild animals and birds chocolate cereal for goodness sake! It could make them really ill. It could –‘

  ‘What’s going on here then?’ Detective Clifford’s voice roared through the attic as he came striding in, his face as angry as a thunder cloud.

  He stopped and stared, taking in the unlikely scene in front of him.

  ‘Girls, you have three minutes to explain to me EXACTLY what is going on here,’ he said, turning to face us.

  So we did, not leaving out ANYTHING, and when we’d finished Detective Clifford took out his handcuffs and strode towards Eddie Barrow.

  ‘Get up,’ he commanded. ‘You’re coming with me, you snivelling idiot. If you’re lucky I might swing past the hospital to get that spider bite looked at, not that you deserve such treatment. You’re a fraudster and a cheat, sir!’

  “Cluck!’ Mrs Peck said, sitting on Arabella’s foot.

  Saturday, 13th March

  Unexpected ending, Diary!

  We just had the most SURPRISING and AMAZING geography lesson in the whole world, Diary. Not only because it was on a Saturday and we don’t usually have normal lessons on a Saturday!

  Basically, Mrs Pumpernickle bustled over to all the first year tables at breakfast and told us to go straight to the geography room at nine o’clock sharp, no latecomers please. Arabella was a bit worried in case they’d hired an even worse teacher than Eddie Barrows but we had a nice surprise when we entered the room. Dear old twitchy, funny Mr Fossil was sitting there on the edge of his desk, smiling shyly. A roar of appreciation went up as soon as we saw him, (led by Arabella of course, she shouted really loudly in my ear). He blushed and fidgeted even more, but looked really pleased to have such a greeting.

  ‘Hello First Years,’ he said, his nose twitching like a rabbit’s. ‘I had a call from a rather important lady last night, beseeching me to come back from Ni Island earlier than planned. She explained everything about Dr Aardvark, or should I say, Eddie Barrows.’

  ‘What important lady?’ Clarice shouted. ‘Mrs Pumpernickle’s not that important.’

  ‘Oh thanks very much,’ Mrs Pumpernickle huffed, who was standing at the back of the classroom wearing her frilly apron, arms folded. ‘Now I know who NOT to give seconds to at dinner time, Clarice.’

  ‘I wasn’t referring to our much valued and incredibly important Mrs Pumpernickle, who I hear has been doing a marvellous job running the school since both the head and deputy were deemed out of action,’ Mr Fossil smiled kindly at Mrs Pumpernickle, who stopped tutting under her breath and grinned instead. ‘I was referring to the lady we are more accustomed to see running the school.’

  ‘But Mrs Fairchild’s in hospital,’ Cleo said loudly. ‘Everyone knows that.’

  ‘Oh am I?’ Said a familiar, light voice that had a touch of cheekiness about it. ‘Perhaps “everyone” doesn’t know as much as they think, Cleo.’

  To our UTTER ASTONISHMENT.COM Mrs Fairchild appeared from round the corner of the big cupboard that houses geography maps, books and supplies. She was sitting very elegantly in a beautiful pale pink wheelchair, a light purple, cashmere blanket covering her knees. Even more surprisingly, the wheelchair was being pushed by Mr Portly.

  ‘Hello dear First Years,’ she said, smiling her twinkly smile, obviously enjoying our astonished expressions. I beamed back, so glad to see her looking much better. She did look a bit thinner and more tired than usual but the same love of life was still there, it was pouring out of her at every angle. ‘Look who I bumped in to in the corridor – Mr Portly!’

  A roar erupted again. Mr Portly smiled round, then grabbed his handkerchief and dabbed at the corner of his eyes.

  ‘I would like to say,’ Mrs Fairchild’s eyes became serious and we all automatically fell silent. ‘That Detective Clifford has issued Mr Portly with an official apology, since the arrest of that awful Eddie Burrows he has been entirely cleared of any supposed wrong doing. It is my firm and unwavering view that we are very lucky to have Mr Portly as our deputy head.’

  We all clapped and nodded solemnly while Mr Portl
y blew his nose.

  ‘Detective Clifford has also asked me to present Diya Gala and Angel Anderson with official apologies for any distress and inconvenience caused,’ Mrs Fairchild went on, retrieving two envelopes from a silk purse that she pulled out from under the cashmere blanket. ‘He has also included vouchers to the best safari park in the country, knowing of their love of animals, so we will arrange for them to have a special outing there soon. Could Diya and Angel come up please?’

  Diya and Angel collected their envelopes with pink cheeks and big smiles.

  ‘And last but not least,’ Mrs Fairchild’s eyes twinkled again as she drew two more objects out of her silk purse. ‘Detective Clifford has asked me to present these medals to the two aspiring detectives we have in the school, Davina Dupree and Arabella Rothsbury. He said he couldn’t have solved the case without them. This is becoming something of a pattern, girls! You’ll soon be enrolled with the local police force if you carry on like this.’ Mrs Fairchild held out the medals and Arabella and I went up to collect them while Cleo and Clarice made sick noises behind us, pulling faces at us on the way back, earning themselves a sharp comment from Mrs Pumpernickle and a disappointed look from Mrs Fairchild.

  What an AMAZING DAY.COM! But there was one more surprise left...As Arabella and I walked down the squashy carpeted corridor towards our dorm, admiring our medals, Mrs Pumpernickle bustled up behind us.

  ‘Post, Davina,’ she said, pushing a thick envelope into my hands before hurrying off.

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, studying the postmark and swirly gold writing as Arabella pushed open our door. ‘I think it’s from my parents.’

  ‘What, your crazy spy parents who probably work for the government but won’t tell you for your own safety?’ Arabella chuckled. ‘I’m surprised they actually write letters, they usually send you messages disguised as other things don’t they?’

  ‘Yep,’ I said, ripping it open and unfolding the thick cream paper. Last month they’d sent me a note stuffed into the inside of an expensive pen that arrived in a parcel, that said they hoped I was well and that they would be popping home briefly to do some washing before setting out on another secret mission. Marvellous! The month before that a carrier pigeon had dropped a bundle of sweets on my head while I was sitting in the school grounds with Arabella with a note that just said, “From M & D”.

  ‘It’s definitely from my mum,’ I said, looking at the unmistakable dramatic writing. ‘I’ll read it out. “Darling! Hope you are having a thrilling time at Egmont. Have you had time to take up those skydiving lessons I booked for you? Daddy and I have just escaped from a tricky situation in Columbia, can’t say too much about it but I can say that we sat in the jungle for three days eating insects. Can you imagine?! Anyway Darling, we know it’s your eleventh birthday next week so as a surprise we’ve booked two places on a luxury hot air balloon ride for you and a friend. Daddy’s already cleared it with Mrs Fairchild, she said you deserve a treat as you’ve been helping solve crimes or something – good girl – chip off the old block eh? Go to the website address at the bottom of this letter and enter the password “BIRTHDAY SURPRISE” and it will take you to the tickets, which you’ll have to print off. And Darling, this is no ordinary hot air balloon ride so remember to bring a camera... Hugs and kisses, Mum xxx”.’