The Littlest Detective in London by Suzy Brownlee

Author:Suzy Brownlee [Brownlee, Suzy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Prospera Publishing
Published: 2010-08-28T04:00:00+00:00

… A few moments later …

Natasha and her henchman had tied Mrs Mac to her stove with a piece of grubby old rope.

Mrs Mac decided that Natasha was definitely a chip off the old Commonov block. She was far ruder than her father, and her father was ruder than a streaker at a football final!

‘Right, old lady. I want to know two things. I want to know where zat busy little body is, and I want ze evidence you have regarding my father.’

Mrs Mackleberry was rather surprised by Natasha’s appearance. She was certainly beautiful, and her clothes were clearly the finest stolen money could buy, but there was something in those clear almond eyes that made her appear much older than her fourteen years. This girl, without a doubt, could easily run the Commonov crime family without breaking a fingernail.

‘I said, I want ze girl, and I want ze evidence.’ Natasha was annoyed at having to deal with the batty old woman. Kids and old people – no wonder Father had always talked about retiring to the middle of a jungle in South America. Ferocious snakes and spiders would surely be easier to deal with.

‘Evidence? What evidence?’

Natasha leaned over and put her face close to Mrs Mac’s.

‘Just tell me where it is or I will turn on ze gas to zis stove, then light a match and blow up zis building – with you in it.’

‘The girl is not here. She’s at school. And there is no evidence.’

Natasha reached over and swivelled one of the buttons on the top of the stove. A hissing sound revealed the gas was definitely escaping.

Mrs Mac realised she had to do something, and fast. ‘I don’t have it, dear. I burnt it years ago.’

‘Really? Well zat is not what I hear.’ Natasha swung around and poked the chest of the man who was helping her.

‘Get moving, look for it.’ Small, bedraggled Hench shuffled off towards the bedrooms.

In spite of her predicament, Mrs Mac found the slight, spindly man amusing.

She recalled that Vladimir Commonov had surrounded himself with tough, beefy-looking men. Who was this scrawny person Natasha was with?

‘That’s not a nice way to speak to him dear. What’s his name?’

‘Hench,’ said Natasha, replying automatically. Then: ‘It’s none of your business whether I am nice to him or not. All you have to worry about is keeping me happy so I don’t blow you up into a thousand little pieces.’ She looked Mrs Mac up and down. ‘Or in your case, a trillion little pieces.’

Mrs Mac wondered if she could manoeuvre her considerable bulk so that she could turn the gas off with her teeth. She prayed that Clementine Bird would stay well hidden in the small bathroom.

‘You should be careful, dear. You could blow yourself up too.’

‘Do you zink I am afraid to die, old lady? After what you did to my father, I don’t care about anything except freeing him.’

‘You can’t free him if you are dead.’

‘Then you had better tell me where

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