Sleuth on Skates by Clementine Beauvais Read Free Book Online Page A

here,” I said, “and take the delivery. I’ll stay outside the burrow like a watchful meerkat, and tell the delivery people where to store the ships.”
    Peter had no choice but to go, and he’d only been gone a minute when a big white van backed into the parking space and an athletic-looking man—not unlike the Greek statue we saw before the great sick epidemic—jumped out.
    â€œHeya,” he said, “you’re the manager’s daughter?”
    â€œSadly not,” I said. “My parents’ jobs are completely not as cool. I’m just helping him out while he’s on a mission.”
    â€œWhere do I put this?” asked the moving-Greek-statue man, lifting half a dozen canary-yellow canoes from inside the van.
    I took him to the hangar behind the pub and he dropped the boats and six small paddles in there, alongside a bunch of inflatable jackets.

    â€œThey look like valiant vessels,” I said. “Are they difficult to steer?”
    The Greek laughed. “Not sure you can eventalk about steering, love. You just sit in there and splash around with the paddle and it moves. My two-year-old could do it.”
    â€œI’m not sure Health and Safety would like that,” I remarked.
    â€œRight. Well,” said the irresponsible father, “I’ll just go. Tell Peter we’ll settle up later.”
    I wanted to leave him a tip, but I only had a tube of Mentos, so I just waved goodbye. Peter came back two minutes later, reeking of sick, with his nostrils squeezed together.
    â€œDammit, Sesame, what I wouldn’t do for you.”
    â€œYou’ve been heroic. Your canoes are inside the hangar.”
    I shook his hand, which was sticky, and walked back to the Fitz, where Mr. Halitosis was in fits. Parents were waiting outside to take their pale and shaky children home, and though most of them complained loudly at being disturbed at work they all seemed pretty pleased about it. Toby, of course, wasn’t sick—he’s had to get through eleven years of Mr. Appleyard’s food, after all.
    â€œSuccess!” I rejoiced aloud to him. “I haven’t been sick, which means that for once in a lifetime, my parents won’t be around!”
    â€œWrong,” replied Toby, “your dad’s over there.”
    Shock horror, he was tragically right. It was Reverend Seade, no doubt about it, chatting with someone in a suit on the other side of the entrance hall.
    â€œFather,” I declared, planting myself in front of him, “leave at once. I am in perfect health and do not require parental assistance.”
    â€œWhat?” said Dad.
    â€œI am so not sick that I even took a delivery of six canoes and an equal number of paddles and life jackets.”
    â€œAre you crazy? Where will we put them?”
    â€œNo, I mean at the pub.”
    â€œHeavens! What were you doing in a pub?”
    â€œThe museum staircase was in urgent need of spring-cleaning, so I went to ask for extra mops.”
    â€œI have no idea what you’re talking about,” stammered Dad. “I’m not here for you. The problem with Sophie,” he sighed to his mate, “isthat she’s a self-centred little Omphalos.” And turning back to me, ‘Sophie, this is Professor Philips, a computer scientist at Trinity College. We’re here to have lunch in the museum café.”
    â€œProfessor Philips?”I repeated. “But Professor Philips left the museum hours ago. And he certainly didn’t look like that!”
    â€œThere is no need to point an accusing finger at Professor
Archie
Philips for not looking like his brother, Professor
Ian
Philips,” said Dad.
    â€œNot a problem,” said Professor Ian Philips’s brother Professor Archie Philips, shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you, young lady. Your father and I have known each other since we were young men.”
    â€œNice to meet you, old