Frankie Dupont and the Mystery of Enderby Manor by Julie Anne Grasso

Author:Julie Anne Grasso [Grasso, Julie Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Anne Grasso
Published: 2014-07-10T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

An Opening Or A Press Conference?

Ping! The doors snapped open, unwittingly announcing Frankie’s arrival. Thankfully, Madame Mercure was still ushering traffic with a permanent smile fixed on her face. She didn’t even notice as Frankie snuck past.

The conference room was alive with incessant chatter. Cluesome sat on the stage speaking into Aunty Rach’s ear, while Uncle Sam sat beside her looking pale. Quite frankly, Frankie really didn’t want to hear what Cluesome had to say. He just wanted to get into the architect’s office, and to do that, he had to have the keys.

Frankie bobbed up and down around the edge of the room until he located the blonde teenager who was bringing chairs in through a side door. The teen popped two chairs down and then moved to the fireplace at the very back of the room. Above the fireplace mantle hung several pictures of lords and ladies, and right in the centre was a large, gilded mirror. Frankie navigated his way towards it.

He took out his smartphone and tapped away as he walked, trying to blend in with the crowd. He hedged his way beside the teen, stepping onto the fireplace ledge. He put his phone up to his ear, turned to face the mirror and put a finger in his other ear.

‘Rightyo boss, I got it boss… cover the press conference.’ Frankie kept the phone to his ear, hoping desperately that he sounded authentic. He glanced up into the mirror, realising the reflection could aid his cause. From that vantage point, he could see the keys in the teen’s pocket and pretended to keep listening while he manoeuvred his left hand towards them. He glanced back up at the mirror and jumped in fright, knocking the keys from the teen’s pocket.

‘Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to bump you,’ Frankie stammered. The teen just smiled, bent to pick up the keys, putting an index finger to his lips. Frankie looked horrified, but not because of his clumsiness.

He could have sworn he saw Kat’s pet gecko, George, in the mirror, with the words “Help me” painted across him. Frankie really thought he was starting to lose his marbles, when all of a sudden the chair beside him tipped completely over of its own accord. He bent to pick it up, totally bewildered, when finally the penny dropped.

Frankie’s heart pounded. He had a theory, but he had to gather more evidence and test his theory. Now, more than ever, he had to get into that architect’s office.

Meanwhile, Cluesome stood, pumping his arms up and down to quiet the crowd. Frankie straightened up, resolved to listen to whatever painful speech Cluesome would deliver.

‘Ha hum. Thank you all for coming at such short notice. I have called you here to give you an update on Katherine Dupont, who is currently listed as missing. Let me assure you, I do not believe that there is any foul play involved here.’

Aunty Rach and Uncle Sam’s heads lowered, unable to face the press. Frankie was sad for them—just watching gave him new resolve to solve the mystery and find Kat.

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