Dear Mum, you know how Dad sometimes digs his heels in and goes really stubborn? Tonight was one of those times.
I suppose I can’t really blame him. It must’ve been fairly weird to have us march up to him and say, ‘Dad, Clara’s the one who gave it away.’
He was sitting at the kitchen table, frowning at the screen of his laptop. ‘Olive,’ he said, ‘I haven’t got time for games. Just go and talk to Digby, okay? Do a – a jigsaw or something. Or maybe you should start packing.’
‘It’s not a game, Dad. Clara messaged Jubilee Simpson last night. And I think—’
‘We think the two things might be connected,’ said Digby. ‘We think Clara’s message might have set off your phone call. We think you should look more closely at Mr Simpson.’
‘I am looking at Simpson,’ said Dad, without taking his eyes from the screen. ‘As well as half a dozen others.’
‘Yes, but we think you should focus on him,’ I said. ‘Remember how he promised those CCTV cameras, and set up the roster? So everyone thought he was a really good bloke? But the cameras still haven’t turned up, and you said yourself that the roster caused more trouble than it was worth. And now this message of Clara’s has—’
Dad interrupted me. ‘Okay, you’ve had your fun. But I mean it about the packing. If I can’t figure this out by Friday, I really will have to take leave. And you’ll have to come with me.’
He wasn’t listening, not properly. So I put Clara on the kitchen table, right next to his laptop.
She inspected the keyboard, then began to peck at it. But before she could finish a single word, Dad grabbed hold of her and stood up, saying, ‘That’s enough. Out!’
He thrust Clara into my hands and pushed me and Digby towards the door.
‘But Dad—’ I said.
‘Enough, Olive. Go and do something useful.’ And he shut the door in our faces.
So we went to my room and had a council of war.
Except first Clara had to finish off the meatballs and groom her feathers. Then she needed to check a few facts.
‘IS INSPECTOR GARCIA REAL?’
I shook my head. ‘Sorry.’
‘SO I WILL NEVER MEET HER AND EXCHANGE STORIES ABOUT OUR MOST PUZZLING CASES?’
‘Nope,’ said Digby.
‘AND CRIMES CANNOT BE SOLVED IN AN HOUR?’
‘Definitely not,’ I said.
She thought for a moment, then wrote, ‘SO WHAT DO WE DO NOW?’
‘We’ve only got until Friday,’ said Digby. ‘It’s not long.’
‘We need to find more evidence against the Simpsons,’ I said. ‘Maybe we could bug their phones.’
‘INSTALL HIDDEN CAMERAS IN THEIR HOUSE.’
‘Kidnap Jubilee and not give her back until her father confesses,’ said Digby.
I pulled a face. ‘I’m not going anywhere near her, not if I can help it.’
‘She’s not so bad at home,’ said Digby. ‘I’ve been there a couple of times, and her dad’s a bit strange – even jollier than usual, you know? Making jokes and stuff, and whacking you on the back as if you’re his best friend. But he hardly takes any notice of Jubilee.’
‘You’re not making excuses for her, are you?’ I asked him.
‘No. Well, maybe. A bit.’
‘I hate her,’ I said. ‘I hate her so much I don’t even want to kidnap her.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Digby. ‘She’s been nasty to you.’
‘More than nasty.’
Digby lay back on the bed with his hands behind his head. ‘So what are we going to do? Seriously, what can we do?’
Clara nudged the phone into a better position and wrote, ‘I WILL GO UNDERCOVER.’
We both stared at her.
‘What do you mean?’ said Digby.
‘I WILL PRETEND TO BE ONE OF THEIR CHOOKS.’
‘We don’t even know if they’ve got chooks,’ I said.
‘They have,’ said Digby. ‘I think they came with the pub, because the Simpsons don’t know much about looking after them. But, Clara, you can’t go undercover. If they really are the thieves, it’s too dangerous.’
‘Well, no one,’ said Digby. ‘But still.’
‘I WILL TAKE YOUR PHONE DIGBY IT IS SMALLER THAN OLIVE’S. I WILL NEED A BAG TO CARRY IT AROUND MY NECK.’
‘You really mean it?’ I asked. ‘You really want to do this?’
‘WE MUST HELP CONSTABLE DAD.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘WE MUST SOLVE THE CRIME.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘WE MUST BRING JUBILEE CRYSTAL SIMPSON MASTER CRIMINAL TO JUSTICE.’