Read Online Scam on the Cam by Clementine Beauvais - Free Book Online Page A

won’t stop feeding me white rice.”
    â€œI’d kill for white rice! I’ve had carrot puree thrust down my throat for the past five days in the manner of a turkey being fattened up for Christmas.”
    â€œI’d kill for carrot puree!” said Gemma. “I’ve eaten so much rice these past five days that I’ve become at least half-Chinese.”
    â€œYou were already half-Chinese,” I pointed out.
    â€œI must admit that that is true, admittedly,” she admitted. “Anyway, I’ve just talked to Toby. He hasn’t thrown up in almost twenty-two hours! And he’s really fed up with eating nothing but hard-boiled eggs. He’s had so many in the past five days that he’s collected enough bits of shell to make a giant mosaic covering a whole wall of his bedroom.”
    I tut-tutted.
“Ergo
, we are not at all sick anymore. We have to meet up and continue the investigation.”
    â€œYes. But how can I get out of Waterbeach?”
    Waterbeach is where Gemma lives, in what looks like a many-turreted castle. It’s got no beach, however, and the only water is that which falls from the sky every time you forget your umbrella. It’s at least twenty-five minutes by car, which makes it one of the farthest places from Cambridge I’ve ever been to. Well, apart from Paris when I was in Mum’s belly, and I couldn’t see the Eiffel Tower very well through her skin and dress, so I slept most of the time.
    â€œTell your parents to drive you. Just say that the three of us are meeting up at Toby’s to recover all together and catch up on homework,” I said. “And don’t forget to call Toby to tell him. I’ll be there in ten mins. Running out of credit! See you la—”
    And then the phone went silent, my five pounds of monthly phone credit having been eaten up by that greedy Gemma.
    I leapt out of bed and reached under my desk for my faithful roller skates, which looked extremely bored, having not been used for a week. Thankfully the wheels still seemed toremember how to roll around their little axles. I slid down the big tree and escaped through the back door.
    And then I whooshed through town, perhaps a little bit more wobblily than usual, but readier than ever for some serious supersleuthing.
    â€œThat is one splendid eggshell mosaic, Toby,” I congratulated him. “Three piglets tripping over marbles in a jungle. How original.”
    â€œIt’s not three piglets tripping over marbles in a jungle, it’s you, me and Gemma cycling, skating and scooting through Cambridge.”
    â€œOh. I see. Well, it’s very impressionistic. Or something-istic, at least. I think you’ve launched a completely new type of art. It’s properly Tobyfying.”
    â€œThank you,” said the artist. “Ah, Gemma’s here!”
    And indeed, Gemma, freshly disembarked from her mum’s car, was walking up the alley to Toby’s house. Toby’s house, due to his parents being the caretaker and the cook at Goodall, is right behind Goodall, near the sports field. Fromhis bedroom window we could see our class playing mixed netball. Mr. Halitosis, hopping among them breathlessly like an asthmatic kangaroo, was shouting, “Come on, come on, a bit more energy! I feel like I’m watching a whole team of Sophie Seades!”
    â€œI’m super honoured that Halitosis thinks of me even when I’m not there,” I said. “Right, team: we’ve still got a mystery to solve. Who’s poisoning everyone? And what’s in Gwendoline’s pirate chest?”
    â€œI’ve had some time to think about it while painting eggshells,” said Toby. “I think Rob is the one who’s doing it.”
    â€œIt makes no sense,” I said. “He’s already on the team.”
    â€œI know. But listen. I have a hypotenuse.”
    â€œHypothesis,” I rectified. “Unless