Scam on the Cam by Clementine Beauvais Read Free Book Online Page B

unique opportunity to use my tiny pen-size flashlight.”
    My cool godfather, Liam, who is a hippie and a punk and sometimes a Goth, but always a good-for-nothing artist, a while ago had sent me a sleuthing package full of useful things. You would know this if you’d read the previous volume of my adventures, like all intelligent people should. Anyway, this package contained, among other things, a pen-size flashlight, which I always keep in my pocket. So I got it out and lit my way to the door.
    Which was locked.
    I didn’t panic. Supersleuths don’t panic. They embrace the unpredictable.
    â€œHurrah!” I said to a moth-eaten stuffed weasel with a sparkly tiara on its head next to me. “The door is locked. This gives me a uniqueopportunity to use my skeleton key.”
    For my cool godfather Liam’s package contained, among other things, a skeleton key, which is a key that can open all doors, or at least a good number of doors.
    So I got it out and slid it inside the keyhole, and tweaked and turned and twisted it until the lock went CLICK! and nicely agreed to open the door.
    Triumphantly, I pulled the door handle.
    Which remained in my hand, problematically not connected to the door, due to its base being entirely eaten up by rust.
    I didn’t panic. Supersleuths don’t panic. They embrace the unpredictable.
    â€œHurrah!” I said to an ugly painting of a knight on a horse in a field next to me. “This gives me a unique opportunity to use my phone and call Toby to tell him to get here as fast as possible and open the door from the outside, or else.”
    So I got my phone out.
    And there was no reception.
    Now I can’t deny I started panicking a tiny little bit.

VI
    â€œDear parents, I adore you,” I said to Mum and Dad on the way back to Christ’s College.
    â€œWe adore you too,” said Mum, which proved that she was more than a little bit tipsy.
    â€œIt was an über-good idea to give me the hair clip with the flower tonight.”
    â€œI’m sure it was, my love.”
    â€œIt saved my life.”
    â€œI’m sure it did, my love.”
    They stumbled into Christ’s, threw loud hellos to the Night Porters and danced around First Court to our front door.
    â€œLooks like they had a good evening,” said Tod the porter to me as I was bidding good night to him and Don.

    â€œYep,” I said. “They didn’t even notice I was gone for an hour, almost buried alive, and would have died a long and hungry death had it not been for a metal hair clip I managed to use as a door handle to free myself from a room of Lost Objects containing a pirate chest full of illegal poison.”
    â€œSo many funny stories in that little head,” said Don, ruffling my hair.
    I hugged them both, leaving a vast amount of cobwebs and dust on their uniforms, and skipped home where a concerto in snore major was already emanating from the parental bedroom. I emptied my pocket on the table, found my phone and texted Gemma quickly:
Julius & Gwen guilty. Poison in St. Cats. Rob not guilty. Do not accept marriage proposal from JH. He’s a filthy criminal and will be hanged high and short, leaving you widowed and publicly shamed. xx
    Then I realized I was about to collapse with exhaustion, and almost did, but Peter Mortimer started licking my ankles with a tongue that was slightly more unpleasant than a cheese grater, so I moved to bed and fell instantly asleep.

    â€œ
Bonjour
, hungover parents! How’s the head?”
    â€œWe are not at all hungover,” said Mum curtly, spreading jam on her toast. Dad was idly pretending to read the
Telegraph
. “We remember everything that happened yesterday evening.”
    Both of them were sporting impressively dark half-circles under their eyes, making them look like a couple of giant, cuddly raccoons.

    â€œLike when I was away for an hour at the end of the dinner?”
    â€œVery funny,”