Upstairs, it’s exactly like Mrs Pointer said. Gnash’s suitcase is open on the bed. Inside it is his teddy bear, a giant toothbrush (Gnash’s teeth are shark-normous) and his favourite bandana.

Hunter checks the window. ‘No sign of a break-in,’ she says.

‘No clues in the wardrobe,’ I say.

‘Nothing under the bed,’ says Gilleon. ‘Except for this ancient slice of chum-and-pineapple pizza,’ he adds, sticking out his tongue.

‘Dibs!’ cries Hunter. She plucks the pizza slice from Gill and throws it down her gullet. ‘Mmm, extra mould. My favourite.’

Gill and I try not to gag.

‘This is so weird,’ I say, looking around. ‘Sharks don’t just vanish. Especially ones the size of Gnash.’

We keep searching, looking in drawers, under the rug, even inside the tank belonging to Sheldon, Gnash’s pet hermit crab.

Then Hunter narrows her eyes, sniffing the water. ‘Hey, do you guys smell that? It’s like...fish guts and vanilla.’

Gilleon makes a face. ‘Ew. That’s almost as bad as pairing stripes and spots.’

‘Maybe it has something to do with this?’ I say, picking up something sticking out from under Gnash’s suitcase. It’s a business card. Hunter and Gilleon sail over to see.

‘F.I.S.H.? What’s that?’ asks Hunter.

‘Never heard of it,’ I say. ‘Maybe there’s something on the back?’

I turn the card over. On the other side is a symbol.

‘Hmm,’ says Gill, ‘I think I’ve seen that symbol before …’

‘To the finternet?’ suggests Hunter.

Gill grins. ‘To the finternet!’