Alice-Miranda and Millie had covered miles of ground in their search for Bonaparte. He wasn’t anywhere in the school and they’d been down every street and lane in the village too.

‘You know, someone might have stolen Bony,’ said Millie.

‘I’m sure that’s not the case,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

‘I suppose there aren’t too many people who could steal the little monster – he’s so mean, most thieves wouldn’t be able to handle him at all,’ Millie began and then, as if a light globe had come on in her head, she gasped. ‘Ah! I bet it was Mr Boots. Bony really likes him and, come to think of it, so does Rockstar. I bet that’s his plan – that why he’s always saying weird things.’ Millie decided. ‘He’s probably going to steal Rockstar too.’

Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘Mr Boots didn’t steal Bonaparte.’

‘How can you be so sure? You know I’ve had a strange feeling about him ever since he arrived,’ Millie said.

‘It wasn’t him,’ Alice-Miranda replied firmly.

‘Well, I think we should tell Constable Derby,’ said Millie.

‘No, Millie, he didn’t take Bony. I’m sure that no one has taken him. He just got out, that’s all.’

But Millie wasn’t convinced.

As the girls neared the showground, they saw Constable Derby’s police car driving slowly through the carnival rides.

‘I wonder what he’s doing here,’ Millie said. ‘Let’s tell him about Mr Boots.’

‘No, Millie, there’s nothing to tell. Please trust me,’ said Alice-Miranda.

An uncomfortable silence had draped itself over the showground like an unwelcome fog at a summer picnic.

The car approached them slowly. The constable put the window down and greeted the pair. ‘Good morning, girls.’

‘Good morning,’ Millie and Alice-Miranda chorused.

‘What brings you out so early this morning?’ he asked. He glanced at his watch. It was just past 9.30 am. He’d been up since 5 am himself and hadn’t realised where the hours had gone.

‘Bonaparte’s missing,’ said Millie.

‘Missing?’ the constable quizzed. ‘Where was he last night?’

‘Chesterfield Downs,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I think he must have escaped.’

‘Really?’ The constable sounded cagey.

‘I’m sure he wouldn’t have been stolen.’ Alice-Miranda raised her eyebrows at the officer.

Constable Derby twitched.

Millie glanced at Alice-Miranda, wondering why she’d even mentioned the words, given she was so firm a moment ago about Bonaparte having got out.

In the distance the girls could see Mrs Parker’s small hatchback approaching. She was driving all over the road and probably quite a bit faster than she should have been. The car was swallowed by a cloud of dust as she roared up beside the police car and planted her foot on the brakes.

‘Constable Derby, Constable Derby,’ the woman called. She was near hysterical.

Chops skittered to the left and bumped into Stumps, who whinnied loudly in protest.

‘Calm down, Mrs Parker,’ said the young constable. He left his vehicle and walked towards her.

‘Constable Derby, I’ve been calling the station since seven o’clock this morning and finally your wife answered the telephone only to tell me that you were out. That’s not good enough, young man. I have an emergency.’ Myrtle was flapping like a hen in a dirt bath.

‘Mrs Parker, I am out on official police business,’ the constable replied.

‘I don’t care if you’re out on official royal business, I need to speak with you most urgently,’ the old woman insisted.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘It’s Newton, he’s gone again,’ she sniffed.

‘Newton?’ The constable’s brow furrowed as he struggled to recall why the name was familiar.

‘My gnome. He only just came back to me and now the little beggar has disappeared. He was inside the house, too. They’ve been inside my house!’ The woman started to cry and it wasn’t long before the sniffle became a wail.

‘Is anything else missing?’ The constable handed Mrs Parker his handkerchief. She blew into it like a trumpet, then offered it back to him. ‘It’s all right. You can keep it.’

‘I don’t know if there’s anything else. I just want Newton back,’ Mrs Parker sobbed.

Millie was trying hard to smother a smile. She wondered if Newton had packed a bag and called a cab, or perhaps he’d just set off with his suitcase.

‘What’s the matter with you, Millicent? Do you think this is funny?’ Myrtle Parker gulped and sniffed and began to wail again.

Alice-Miranda and Constable Derby exchanged quizzical looks. The police radio in Constable Derby’s car crackled.

‘Hello darling, it’s Louella, can you hear me? Over,’ came his wife’s voice.

The constable grabbed for the microphone and pressed the button on the side.

‘Yes, Mrs Derby, is there something I can help you with? Over,’ he answered.

‘Oh, you’ve got someone with you. I’m sorry but you need to get back to the station as soon as possible. I’m afraid there are quite a lot of people who want to talk to you. Over.’

‘I’ll be there soon. Do you want to take down some details for me? Over,’ said the constable.

‘I can try but there’s a crowd. Over,’ Louella Derby replied. It seemed that almost everyone in the village had gathered at the police station. ‘And Mr Boots is here. He said that he needs to speak with you most urgently about a barn on the edge of Chesterfield Downs. Over.’

On hearing ‘Mr Boots’, Millie’s eyes had bulged. She opened her mouth to tell Constable Derby her suspicions but Alice-Miranda shook her head and mouthed ‘no!’.

‘Tell Mr Boots to sit tight and I’ll be there in three minutes. Over.’ Constable Derby jammed the radio handset back in its holder and jumped into the car. ‘Mrs Parker, if you’d like to come to the station later, I’ll take down the details,’ he called as he turned the key in the ignition and sped off, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.

A barn on the edge of Chesterfield Downs. Alice-Miranda wondered if she and Millie should go there too.

‘Isn’t that Tarquin?’ Millie was pointing towards the caravans.

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Tarquin,’ she shouted and gave Stumps a jab in the ribs. The pony sprang to life and cantered towards the lad. ‘Where’s Fern?’

‘Fern’s doing special jobs for Alf,’ he said, fiddling with his collection of badges.

Millie gave Chops a kick and cantered over to join her friend.

‘Millicent, you come back here,’ said Myrtle Parker as she attempted to follow her. ‘You owe me an apology, young lady.’

‘Let’s go, Alice-Miranda,’ Millie sighed. ‘I’m not apologising to Mrs Parker. I think she’s gone crazy.’

‘I heard that, Millicent!’ The old woman chased after the girls, huffing and blowing like a steam train. She reached the group, took one look at Tarquin and his collection and sucked in a breath so hard Alice-Miranda wondered for a moment if she might choke on it. Mrs Parker pointed at the ground. ‘Uh, uh, uh.’ She didn’t seem able to speak.

‘What’s the matter, Mrs Parker?’ Alice-Miranda leapt down from the saddle and pulled Stumps’s reins over his head.

‘It was him.’ Mrs Parker waggled her fat forefinger at Tarquin.

Alice-Miranda sighed. ‘Mrs Parker, I’m sure that Tarquin had nothing to do with the disappearance of your gnome.’

‘Then how do you explain that?’ she demanded, pointing down among the lad’s treasures. ‘That is my badge! Mine! He must have taken it from my house when he took Newton.’

Alice-Miranda looked. Millie looked too. A shiny silver badge winked at them in the morning sun. The owner was clear: the badge read Myrtle Parker Show Society President.

‘Where did you get that?’ Myrtle demanded, pointing at the badge.

Tarquin looked up at her. ‘Fern got it,’ he said.

‘Then it must be Fern who broke into my house,’ Myrtle raged.

‘How long has your badge been missing, Mrs Parker?’ asked Alice-Miranda. There had to be a perfectly logical explanation.

‘I was wearing it yesterday,’ the woman shouted.

Millie tried to recall Mrs Parker and her floral ensemble from the day before. She couldn’t remember seeing a badge. ‘No, you weren’t.’

‘Yes, I was. He’s a thief,’ Myrtle sniffed. ‘Anyway, I’m reporting him to Constable Derby. And I’m taking that with me right now.’ She reached forward and scooped the badge into her hand.

‘No!’ Tarquin shouted. ‘It’s mine!’

The boy reached out and snatched it back again. He placed each badge back into the plastic bag.

‘You give that to me now,’ Myrtle roared.

‘No!’ Tarquin lay on top of the bag.

‘Mrs Parker, I’m sure that Constable Derby can get your badge back later if it’s that important,’ Alice-Miranda said calmly.

The old woman stared at the small girl. Myrtle now vaguely recalled that her badge had been missing for weeks.

‘Why don’t you head home and see Mr Parker,’ Alice-Miranda suggested.

Myrtle’s face crumpled and she began to cry like a baby. Fat tears ran down her cheeks and she looked completely lost.

‘You’ve had such a busy time. I’m sure that a cup of tea and a lie down would do you the world of good before the races this afternoon. Do you have a lovely outfit? I have a pretty blue dress that Mummy and Daddy sent for my birthday.’

Myrtle Parker nodded.

‘Will we see you later?’ Alice-Miranda smiled encouragingly at the old woman.

‘Bye, Mrs Parker,’ Millie said in barely more than a whisper.

Myrtle Parker waddled towards her car, hopped in and drove slowly away.

‘Well, that was weird,’ Millie said. ‘I sort of feel sorry for her. She seemed lost.’

‘I think she’s exhausted,’ Alice-Miranda said, before turning her attention back to Tarquin, who was still lying on the ground guarding his collection. ‘It’s okay, Tarq, she’s gone.’

Tarquin pushed himself to his knees.

‘Do you know where Alf is?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

‘He’s gone to the shop,’ Tarquin replied.

Alice-Miranda wrinkled her nose. It was Sunday. None of the village shops were open on a Sunday. ‘Which shop?’

‘The special shop. Near the cats,’ Tarquin said, as he pulled his badges back out of the bag and placed them methodically one after the other on the ground.

‘Cats? What cats?’ Alice-Miranda’s mind was in overdrive.

‘Miss Bah,’ he said.

And then she knew.

‘Millie, we have to go.’ Alice-Miranda heaved herself up onto Stumps’s back.

‘Go where?’ her friend asked as she wheeled Chops around.

‘I’ll tell you on the way,’ Alice-Miranda called as she took off. ‘Goodbye Tarquin!’

Millie gave Chops a sharp jab with her boot and followed after her friend. The two ponies were neck and neck as they raced around the edge of the showground and into the paddock beyond.

‘Where are we going?’ Millie shouted.

‘The stables at Caledonia Manor,’ Alice-Miranda called back. ‘Just follow me.’

The ponies thundered through the forest. Many hours spent exploring meant Alice-Miranda knew every track and lane. Dodging overhanging branches and clearing fallen logs, old Stumps set a cracking pace with Chops hot on his heels. They raced on until they neared the old vegetable patch at Caledonia Manor and Alice-Miranda steadied Stumps to a trot, then slowed to a walk.

Her heart was hammering inside her chest and she needed to catch her breath.

‘What’s going on?’ Millie panted.

‘It’s a long story and we don’t have much time. I need you to go to Miss Hephzibah’s and call Constable Derby. Tell him to get over to the stables here as fast as he can. Mr Boots has got it wrong. It’s not Chesterfield Downs – it’s here. I’ll watch and make sure that Alf doesn’t leave.’

‘Alf? What’s he done?’ Millie asked.

‘I suspect he robbed half the village last night.’

‘See, I told you the carnies weren’t to be trusted,’ Millie said smugly.

‘It’s not like that at all, Millie. Do you remember when we first met the kids and there was the fight and Rory said that Alf was coming? They all disappeared. Alf threatens them. He says that if they don’t do what he says, their parents will die, just like Gina, Fern’s mother, did.’

‘That’s terrible. Do you think he killed Gina?’ Millie asked.

‘No, she was sick, but Alf’s a powerful man. He can tell the kids what he wants and they’re not going to question him. Besides, he already got rid of one of the boys.’

‘Who?’ Millie frowned.

‘Mr Boots,’ Alice-Miranda said.

‘Billy Boots! What’s he got to do with the carnival?’ Millie asked.

‘Billy is Fern and Tarquin’s brother,’ Alice-Miranda replied, ‘and by rights the carnival now belongs to him and his brother and sister.’

‘What?’ Millie was shocked.

‘Think about it, Millie. What colour are his eyes?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

‘They’re that weird amber cat colour. Oh,’ she said, nodding. ‘Just like Fern and Tarquin.’

‘Alf married their mother and then she died and the carnival was meant to be in trust for them until Billy was old enough to take over. But he knew what Alf was up to – except that Alf blamed Billy for being a thief. He accused Billy of stealing the takings from one of their show weekends. He even had photographs which Billy said were completely set up. But the others all took Alf’s side, so Billy ran away and he’s been working out how to get back there and make things right ever since.’

‘That’s terrible,’ Millie said. ‘Poor Fern.’

‘We need to get moving. Constable Derby has to catch Alf with the goods, otherwise there’s no way to prove it was him.’ Alice-Miranda jumped down from Stumps’s back and pulled the reins over his head. ‘You go to the manor. I’ll tie Stumps up here and head down to the stables.’

‘Be careful,’ Millie said. ‘Don’t do anything crazy, okay?’

Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘I promise.’