The Heist at Niagara Falls by Steve Stevenson

Author:Steve Stevenson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2013-10-30T22:00:00+00:00

Agatha sprinted over to him. “False alarm.” She laughed, removing a scrap of gray fur from her cat’s mouth. “This must have come off one of Madame Hofstetter’s coats . . .”

“I don’t own any furs,” the singer replied bluntly. “In fact, I have participated in important campaigns against killing for fur!”

Agatha rolled the scrap between her fingers.

Where had it come from? Watson had been roaming all over the room, but he had discovered his prey near the safe . . .

She returned to the table and showed everyone the strip of grayish-brown fur. “I seem to recall that the Canadian native mammals are moose, bear, and beaver,” she said pensively. “Could this be beaver fur?”

Chandler examined it carefully. He had once worked at a natural history museum and knew quite a bit about animal pelts. “Impossible, Miss Agatha, it’s too soft,” he said. “Beaver fur is much denser.”

“So what sort of animal does it come from?”

Mr. Cornwell gave it a disdainful glance. “Judging by the poor quality, it looks like the common muskrat . . .”

The others looked at him questioningly.

“Muskrat,” he repeated. “It’s a large rodent that wallows in lakes and rivers and is hunted for its cheap fur.”

“Fascinating! But what is it doing here, in Madame Hofstetter’s imperial suite, if it’s such a worthless piece of fur?” asked Agatha.

“Perhaps it was left by a previous guest,” the butler hypothesized.

“I think we can rule that out,” Agatha said. “The housekeeping staff vacuumed every inch of this carpet. If they found a piece of somebody’s fur coat or anything else that was left by a guest, they’d undoubtedly bring it to the reception desk.”

“Exactly,” confirmed Mr. Cornwell.

Dash tapped his fingers on the table. “How long are you planning to keep us guessing?” he asked, impatient.

Agatha smiled at him, then turned to Madame Hofstetter. “You told us before that when you returned to your suite, you found the magnetic cards sitting on top of the safe, as though the thief were trying to return them to you—or show off how clever he’d been,” she recalled. “I could be wrong, but my instincts tell me he also left this scrap of fur that Watson found!”

“Why would he do that?” asked Chandler.

“Maybe it’s his signature,” replied Agatha. “I read in the Manual of Criminology that some criminals leave behind a personal clue to build up their reputations.”

This set off a heated discussion, which only ended when Dash, who was frantically doing research on his EyeNet, called for silence.

“You’re right, genius cousin!” he shouted, ecstatic. “Ratmusqué is the nickname of a famous Canadian thief who retired from criminal activity a decade ago. Rat musqué is the French term for muskrat. He specialized in jewel thefts and always left a little piece of fur behind to mock the police!” He continued to read off the screen while the others listened intently.

They learned a lot of unusual things about the infamous Ratmusqué. His real name was Rick Moriarty, and he had voluntarily surrendered to police because he just wasn’t enjoying his life of crime anymore.

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