by R. A. Spratt
About the Book
Friday Barnes has a new case, and this time it’s personal!
When Friday’s father turns up out of the blue, he brings his daughter some distressing news – Friday’s mother has been kidnapped! But who would want to kidnap a theoretical physicist?
The Headmaster needs Friday’s help too, when Highcrest Academy is thrown into chaos by the arrival of a beautiful new student – Princess Ingrid of Norway. She’s rich, she’s royal and she’s got her eye on Ian Wainscott. Despite heightened security at the school, things start to go missing. It appears Highcrest Academy has been infiltrated by a master thief, The Pimpernel.
Can Friday crack the case of her missing mother, reign in a royal brat and unmask the elusive Pimpernel? If it means she gets to ditch PE, then of course she can!
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: The Disappearing Doctor
Chapter 2: Inside the House
Chapter 3: Sweden
Chapter 4: Dad in Tow
Chapter 5: The Headmaster’s Troubles
Chapter 6: The Next-Door Neighbour
Chapter 7: A Dangerous Letter
Chapter 8: Letter-Tracking
Chapter 9: Ian’s Mother
Chapter 10: The Wainscott Residence
Chapter 11: The Savage Dog
Chapter 12: A Picture Tells a Thousand Words
Chapter 13: The Telltale Scale Model of Saturn
Chapter 14: Trouble with Binky
Chapter 15: The Potato Dash
Chapter 16: The Case of the Missing Microwave
Chapter 17: Microwave Not Safe
Chapter 18: The Case of the Voice in the Night
Chapter 19: Sleuthing Sleepover
Chapter 20: What Happened Below
Chapter 21: The Framing of Dr Barnes
Chapter 22: Springing Dr Barnes
Chapter 23: The Pretender
Chapter 24: The Match
Chapter 25: The King’s Daughter
Chapter 26: The Truth Revealed
Friday Barnes: No Rules
Friday Barnes: Girl Detective
Friday Barnes: Under Suspicion
Nanny Piggins: Collect Them All!
About the Author
Also by R. A. Spratt
Copyright Notice
To Violet and Samantha
Chapter 1
The Disappearing Doctor
Friday Barnes was running as fast as she could across the Highcrest Academy campus, which admittedly wasn’t too fast because running wasn’t her strong suit. She had just heard the shocking news that her father had turned up and taken over a physics lesson, and she was desperate to get to that classroom to minimise whatever public embarrassment he was undoubtedly causing.
Friday’s best friend Melanie Pelly ran with her, and Ian Wainscott came along as well. He was either Friday’s arch nemesis or her love interest. Nobody was quite sure which, least of all Ian and Friday. But wherever there was a dramatic public confrontation involving Friday he was always there.
When they burst through the door they saw the science teacher, Mr Davies, slumped at a desk, holding his head in his hands. All the students looked very brain-addled and confused. At the front of the room Friday’s father, Dr Barnes, was scrawling equations over every last square inch of the whiteboard.
‘You see here, X is a photon or Z-boson, and here X and Y are two electroweak bosons such that the charge is conserved …’ droned Dr Barnes. He had whiteboard marker and egg stains on his saggy brown cardigan, and it didn’t look like his hair had been brushed at any time in the last decade.
‘Dad, stop!’ cried Friday. ‘You’re hurting their brains!’
Dr Barnes looked up and adjusted his glasses. ‘Ah, Friday. Yes, that’s why I’m here. I’ve come to see you.’
‘Then why have you taken over Mr Davies’ class?’ asked Friday.
‘I was looking for you when I walked past here,’ said Dr Barnes, ‘and I saw the lesson he was teaching. He clearly needed help. His explanation was childlike.’
‘These are children,’ said Friday. ‘He was explaining physics to children.’
Dr Barnes turned and looked at the class. He adjusted his glasses on his nose. ‘Oh yes, I suppose so. I hadn’t considered that.’
‘The family resemblance is remarkable,’ said Ian. ‘It’s not just the brown cardigan. It’s the total ignorance of social normality.’
‘Stow it,’ said Friday, before going over to her father. ‘Dad, why were you looking for me? You never have before. Not even the time you left me at the shopping centre, not realising that I wasn’t in the car.’
‘What?’ said Dr Barnes. ‘I don’t recall the data to which you’re referring.’
Friday sighed. ‘Of course you don’t. Just tell me, why are you here?’
‘Oh,’ said Dr Barnes. Suddenly his eyes welled with tears and his chin wobbled. ‘It’s Dr Barnes.’
‘Isn’t that you?’ asked Melanie.
‘No, the other Dr Barnes,’ said Dr Barnes.
‘Mum?’ asked Friday.
‘Yes, her,’ said Dr Barnes.
‘What’s happened to Mum?’ asked Friday.
‘She’s disappeared,’ said Dr Barnes as he dissolved into sobs.
Friday took her father outside so he could compose himself. She sat him at a picnic table with a strategically placed box of tissues in front of him just in case he burst into tears again. Melanie and Ian stood by.
‘What do you mean Mum’s disappeared?’ asked Friday. ‘She can’t have ceased to exist. She must be somewhere.’
‘All I know is yesterday morning while I was eating breakfast I looked up and noticed she wasn’t at the table!’ said Dr Barnes.
‘That is a bad sign,’ said Friday then turned to explain to her friends. ‘Mum never misses breakfast. She has an alarm set on her wristwatch to remind her when to eat.’
‘When I reflected on the available evidence, I realised I had no memory of her sitting at the table for dinner the night before, either,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘So I investigated further and discovered she was nowhere in the house.’
‘Wow,’ said Friday, ‘and you noticed this in under twenty-four hours? I’m impressed.’
‘So I rang her office at the university and she wasn’t there either,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘I’m worried that she’s been kidnapped!’
‘Who would want to kidnap Mum?’ asked Friday.
‘Theoretical physics has all sorts of practical applications,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘She might have been kidnapped by an arms manufacturer.’
‘Or an amusement ride operator,’ said Ian.
‘That’s more realistic,’ said Friday. ‘Carnies have even lower morals than arms manufacturers.’
‘Have you called the police?’ asked Melanie.
‘Why? Do you think they arrested her?’ asked Dr Barnes.
‘No, to file a missing person report,’ said Friday.
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘Is that the type of thing police do? I’d hate to trouble them if it’s not their field.’
‘Of course it’s their field,’ said Friday.
‘I think your father is even vaguer than me,’ said Melanie.
‘You should call the police right now,’ said Friday.
‘All right,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘Do you know their phone number?’
‘Don’t tell me you don’t know the phone number for the emergency services,’ said Friday.
‘Why?’ asked Dr Barnes. ‘Is it my birthdate or something?’
‘It’s triple zero,’ said Friday.
‘That’s not my birthday,’ said Dr Barnes.
‘I’ll call them,’ said Friday. ‘Then we can meet the police at your house. They’ll want to search for evidence before the trail goes cold.’
‘I don’t follow. The ambient temperature is pleasantly balmy,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘I can’t see why a trail would go cold.’
‘It’s a figure of speech, Dad,’ said Friday. ‘I’m not literally talking about a low-temperature footpath.’
‘Really? Fascinating,’ said Dr Barnes.
It was a two-hour drive to the Barnes’ family home. Melanie went along with Friday, supposedly for emotional support, but really so she could get out of classes for the rest of the day. Friday tried questioning Dr Barnes (her father) as he drove, but she had to give up because he was a terrible driver and it was distracting him too much. He nearly drove into an oncoming ice-cream van while trying to remember what his wife had been wearing when he last saw her.
When they pulled up at the Barnes family’s ordinary suburban home the police were already there. They had marked off the whole front yard with crime-scene tape.
‘Oh my goodness!’ exclaimed Dr Barnes. ‘What’s happened here?’
‘Mother has gone missing,’ Friday reminded him. ‘We called the police about it two hours ago.’
‘And they’ve done all this already?’ said Dr Barnes. He was a university academic, so he was not used to anyone taking action with any degree of rapidity.
‘Come on,’ said Friday, ‘let’s talk to the officer in charge.’
They all got out of the car. Melanie and Dr Barnes hung back while Friday ducked under the tape and started walking towards the front door.
‘Stop right there!’ snapped an angry-looking woman in a beige pantsuit. ‘If you take one more step, I’ll arrest you.’
Friday froze, one foot hovering over a paver.
‘This is a crime scene,’ said the pantsuit woman. ‘With every step you take you are contaminating the evidence.’
‘This is also my family home,’ said Friday, ‘and the missing person is my mother. If you allow me to put my foot down and continue walking into the building, I will probably be able to assist the officer in charge.’
‘I am the officer in charge,’ said the pantsuit woman. ‘My name is Detective Summers and my past experience with children is that they are anything but helpful.’
‘Well, you could have my father come in and have a look around to see what is missing or misplaced,’ said Friday. ‘But he is a theoretical physicist, with tenure, so he is about as aware of his physical surrounds as a dead geranium.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ said Detective Summers. ‘He’s the victim’s husband.’
‘Allow me to demonstrate,’ said Friday, turning to her father, who was still on the other side of the tape. ‘Dad, what day of the week is it?’
‘What?’ said Dr Barnes.
‘Do you know what the day of the week it is?’ repeated Friday.
‘I suppose it’s one of them,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘I don’t know … It will say on the calendar, I presume.’
‘Can you narrow it down?’ asked Friday. ‘If you concentrate really hard, can you work out whether it is a weekday or a weekend?’
‘How on earth can I be expected to know that?’ asked Dr Barnes.
‘You just picked me up from school and classes were in session,’ said Friday. ‘So you should be able to deduce that it is a weekday.’
‘Oh yes, that does follow,’ agreed Dr Barnes. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it.’
‘What colour are Mum’s eyes?’ continued Friday.
‘Her eyes,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘Well, they’re eye-coloured, I suppose.’
‘Think hard, Dad,’ urged Friday. ‘You’ve been married for twenty-eight years. In all that time, have you ever looked at Mum and noticed what colour her eyes were?’
‘Blue … or maybe brown,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘One of those two colours, I should think.’
‘Behold, my father’s power of observation,’ said Friday.
‘There must be an adult family member I can talk to,’ said Detective Summers.
‘Yes, I do have four adult brothers and sisters,’ said Friday. ‘Quantum, Quasar, Halley and Orion Barnes. You could get in touch with one of them.’
‘Oh no, you can’t do that,’ said Dr Barnes, shaking his head.
‘Why not?’ asked Friday.
‘I tried already. I couldn’t get hold of any of them this morning,’ said Dr Barnes. ‘None of them answered the phone when I rang. That’s why I had to go and get Friday.’
Friday was a little hurt. ‘I should have known I wouldn’t be the first person you’d contact.’
‘So your four older children are missing as well?’ asked Detective Summers. ‘And you didn’t think to mention this before?’
‘Could it be relevant?’ asked Dr Barnes.
Detective Summers looked like she wanted to slap Dr Barnes. She took a deep breath, then turned to Friday. ‘Perhaps you had better be the one to come inside.’
Chapter 2
Inside the House
Friday wasn’t allowed into the house until she was decked out in a full crime scene suit, which included white paper coveralls, white booties, a face mask and shower cap.
‘You do realise that my fingerprints, hair and skin cells will be all over the house already?’ said Friday. ‘I did live here for eleven years.’
‘When it comes to evidence, you can never be too careful,’ said Detective Summers, leading Friday up the front path. When she reached the front door she stopped and turned to Friday. For the first time Detective Summers had a look of compassion on her face. ‘Before we enter the house, I should warn you – what you see will be upsetting. Whoever took your mother made a real mess. The house has been completely turned over. They must have been searching for something. Your mother’s research notes, perhaps. I know it can be distressing to see your family home violated.’
A lump formed in Friday’s throat. She nodded because she didn’t think she could trust herself to speak. It wasn’t until now it occurred to her that the kidnapper might have handled her mother roughly.
Her mother might not have been the world’s best mother. But she wasn’t a bad person. It’s just that Dr Barnes just lived in the theoretical world – she spent all her time inside her own mind, so to trick her into getting into a stranger’s car would have been the easiest thing in the world. All you’d have to do is say, ‘Get in the car, Dr Barnes, I’m here to take you to a conference’ and she’d be halfway to Mauritius before it crossed her mind to wonder where she was going.
Friday hoped the kidnappers hadn’t hurt Dr Barnes. Apart from being one of the world’s leading scientists, she was Friday’s mum. And she only had one mum. And she’d rather have a distracted, self-absorbed mother than no mother at all.
Detective Summers held open the front door and Friday stepped inside. She walked down the short corridor to the living room and then stopped. Three white-suited crime scene investigators were taking samples in the room, which was strange enough. It looked like aliens were paying an afternoon visit to her home. But as Friday looked about, she noticed the total dishevelment. There were papers and periodicals strewn everywhere. Cupboards hanging open, a broken mug on the kitchen floor, breakfast cereal trodden into the carpet and a chair was overturned.
Friday took it all in.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Detective Summers.
‘Of course I am,’ said Friday. ‘This is what the house always looks like.’
‘It is?!’ asked Detective Summers.
‘Well, not always,’ said Friday. ‘When I lived here, I used to tidy up after Mum and Dad as much as I could. But if I ever went away on a school camp or stayed with Uncle Bernie for a couple of days, the house would always look like this when I came back.’
‘But it looks like it’s been ransacked,’ said Detective Summers.
‘I know,’ agreed Friday. ‘Mum and Dad don’t have very good life management skills. I r
eally should have arranged some sort of careworker to look after them when I moved out. What they really need is a nanny – someone to tell them when to eat, when to brush their teeth and when to go to bed.’
‘Well, your mother’s still missing,’ said Detective Summers. ‘Plus your brothers and sisters. There must be something going on. If five of the nation’s leading physicists have been kidnapped, that is going to be a huge deal.’
‘Are you sure she has been kidnapped?’ asked Friday. ‘Perhaps there’s another explanation.’
‘Yes, we’re sure,’ said Detective Summers. ‘I didn’t want to distress you or your father, but there was a note.’
‘From Mother?’ asked Friday.
‘Yes,’ said Detective Summers. ‘Whoever took her allowed her to leave a brief message.’
‘May I see it?’ asked Friday.
Detective Summers looked doubtful. ‘You’re a child. I don’t want to do anything that might traumatise you. Police departments are forever getting sued for things like that.’
‘I won’t sue,’ said Friday. ‘For a start, I’m not in touch enough with my emotions to be traumatised. The Barneses are big on suppressing all emotion. Just show me the note; I promise I’ll be fine. At least, for the foreseeable future. If I have any psychological repercussions, I’m sure they won’t become apparent for years.’
‘All right,’ said Detective Summers, taking a plastic evidence bag out of her notebook. It looked like a sandwich bag, but it didn’t contain a sandwich. It contained a crumpled handwritten note.
