Googol Boy and the peculiar incident of the Great Quiz Trophy, John Michael [white hot kiss txt] 📗

trying to figure out some Sherlock Holmes mystery. One was tall and skinny with a handlebar moustache while the other one was small and rotund with a ruddy complexion. Barney and I got off the school bus and joined the curious students who had gathered around. Eugene Fumbase was at the edge of the crowd standing on his tippy toes trying to get a better look.

“What’s going on Eugene?” Barney enquired.

“It’s a Code 18-2-95. Larceny! It happened sometime last night. Luckily no one was hurt... could have been a lot worse. Like the time my Uncle Ollie was robbed, actually it was the third time he was robbed... ah, maybe the fourth... I don’t know, I lost count. Anyways,

he was about to close shop when two juvenile hoodlums came in with hockey sticks. They looked rather sinister but my uncle held his nerve. They immediately yelled, ‘Don’t scream please, just give us all your money Oliver!’ but my uncle lost his cool and attacked them with a nearby mop. They fled the store hollering and crying. My uncle was in such a state but quite glad that he had escaped with his life. He quickly called the cops but when they turned up they saw it differently, ‘grievous bodily harm’ they said, ‘attack with a dangerous weapon’ they claimed, ‘crazy old coot’ they declared. Apparently, the two ‘hoodlums’ were a couple of primary school kids coming home from a hockey game and only wanted to buy a treat. According to them, they didn’t say ‘don’t scream please, give us all your money Oliver,’ what they were really saying was ‘ice cream please, vanilla and honey flavour.’ My uncle now wears a hearing aid.”

Eugene had a habit of getting side-tracked and by the look on Barney’s face, it seemed that he had switched off halfway through his long-winded babble. To make matters worse, the school bell had rung and we were none the wiser as to what was going on.

I was curious to find out what had happened so I quickly interjected. “Um... very interesting story about your uncle, but back to the larceny, do you mean that there’s been a burglary at the school?”

“Of course, what else do you think I’ve been talking about all this time?”

Eugene paused for a second and took his glasses off and cleaned them with his t-shirt.

“Someone broke in... into the school... into the Principal’s office... into the safe... and stole the charity money for the orphanage... all of it... oh, and one other thing... the Quockingpoll Flats Great Quiz Trophy. gone as well!” Eugene then nodded and scurried off with the rest of the students as they went to their first lesson.

The two policemen remained as they finished writing up their report in their notepads.

“Well Roger... looks like your standard break and enter,” said the tall one.

“Yes Laurie... a burgle... someone burgled... there was definitely some burgling afoot,” replied the short one.

“Roger that Roger... a snatch and grab if you will.”

“Indeed Laurie... there was some snatching and grabbing alright.”

“Or perhaps a grab and snatch... we can’t really call it at this stage.”

“Yes... yes... good point... I’ll put that in the report Laurie.”

“Right Roger... and you should add that the robbers made a dash with the cash?”

“Yes... good one Laurie!”

“Or you could even say they made a scoot with the loot!”

“Ooh clever... I’ll add that to the report as well Laurie!”

“No doubt about it Roger, we’ve got some opportunistic robbers on our hands!”

“Yes Laurie... opportunistic indeed. They saw an opportunity and they took it.”

“They’re probably halfway out of the county by now. Eh Roger?”

“They could be anywhere Laurie.”

“Yes... anywhere! And lugging around that oversized trophy as well!”

“Right you are Laurie... an odd item to pinch.”

“Quite peculiar wouldn’t you say Roger?”

“Peculiar indeed. Extremely peculiar! Perhaps it’s an antique?”

“Or a collector’s item?”

“Or even an antique collector’s item Laurie?”

“Might well be Roger... but we’ve still got to figure out the how and the why.”

“Hmm.... yes. good one. the how and the why!”

“And the who! We can’t forget the who!”

“Oh, you’re absolutely right Laurie... can’t forget the who!”

“Without the who we’ve got no whodunit* Roger.”

“Yes Laurie... and without the whodunit we have no crime to solve.”

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we Roger?”

“No Laurie, we wouldn’t indeed!”

“Without the who we are just left with the dunit.”

“You’re right Laurie... no point in focusing on the dunit without the who.”

“Yes... the who! But the question is, who is the who?”

“It’s a bit of a puzzle Laurie. I’ll give you that!”

“It most certainly is Roger. I would even call it a conundrum!”

“Oh, there’s certainly some conundrumming at play!”

“I’ll tell you what Roger... I would go even further than that.”

“You would? How far would you go then Laurie?”

“I would go as far as to say that it’s a conundrum wrapped in a mystery dipped in some enigma sauce.

“Ooh... nicely put Laurie. That’s poetic, that is. That’s going straight into the report!”

At that moment, the principal appeared on the stairs. Mr Ditherington was regarded as an amiable character who was quite gregarious and enjoyed talking about art and poetry. He was tall with a lanky frame and a small paunch at the midriff and was slightly stooped at the shoulders. His grey wispy hair danced in the slight breeze as his head swivelled around slowly from left to right and then again from right to left. He teetered on the top step and looked rather perplexed, as if he had arrived for a dentist appointment on the wrong day and at the wrong place. In fact, the principal had a habit of appearing confused as he would often turn up to assembly at incorrect times and he would, on occasion, even forget the day of the week. It was even rumoured that Mr Ditherington had mistakenly turned up at school on Sundays.

The principal also had a reputation for being a tad eccentric at times, you could even say that he was a bit of an oddball. For one