Read Online Sleuth on Skates by Clementine Beauvais - Free Book Online Page A

freshly-bleached bathroom?”
    â€œListen,” replied Gemma, “am I the only one who thinks we should drop the case? Whatever happened to her, Jenna Jenkins is now alive and well. Whatever the Professors are doing is their own business. Firstly, it’s probably boring, like most businesses. Secondly, they’ve proven they’re not against locking up people in cupboards, and I don’t really want to try that out.”
    â€œAt least,” I remarked, “being locked up in a cupboard would give one a good excuse not to go to PE.”
    Gemma and Toby got up and started warming up for sprint. Mr. Halitosis was already jumping up and down to try to get rid of his beer belly, screaming, “Come on, children! You can do it! You’ve got it in you!”
    â€œI can’t run, Mr. Barnes, I’ve sprained my ankle.”
    â€œA likely story, Sophie! Next time you’ll tell me you’ve injured your ponytail.”
    â€œIt kind of hurts too, actually.”
    â€œRun! Running empties your head.”
    â€œThat explains it,” I muttered.
    I ran for about ten minutes, but it didn’t empty my head. In fact, my skull was positively purring in the manner of Peter Mortimer when his stomach is being stroked. The overload of mysteries was twisting my brains into plaits.
    There was no doubt that the Philips brothers were a criminal couple of crooks. But apart from the fact that one sported a goatee and the other one a moustache, I didn’t have any way of proving it to the world. Jenna Jenkins had said she hadn’t been locked up, and if I talked about the dodgy conversation I’d overheard, my parents would choose both not to believe me and to punish me for skating to the Fitz on my own in the middle of the night. Parents are contradictory like that.

    â€œI’m not surprised Professor Philips is a bloodthirsty bandit, anyway,” said Toby next to me. “He looked scary.”
    â€œSpeaking of scary people,” interfered Gemma, “what was in his letter to your mum?”
    â€œDunno . . . I’d completely forgotten about that. Probably something to do with their business meetings.”
    â€œI do hope he’s better at business than he isat spelling,” said Gemma haughtily.
    â€œWhat do you—?”
    â€œSophie Seade, is that what you call running?” Mr. Halitosis’s voice interfered.
    â€œYes, it’s a special kind of running I made up. It’s much less tiring than normal running.”
    â€œI’m afraid someone made it up before you and called it walking. I want to see you run!”
    I had to conform to his definition and painfully caught up with Gemma. “What . . . do . . . you . . . mean . . . about spelling?”
    â€œOh, that. Didn’t you see? The address on the envelope was riddled with spelling mistakes! Personally, I never get my apostrophes wrong. And I certainly would not leave out the d in ‘Cambridge’.”
    I stopped in my tracks, grabbing Gemma’s collar (she gurgled a bit) and stammered, “Spelling mistakes! Oh, Gemz! How did you not tell me that before?”
    â€œI meant to, but then I was gravely ill, remember? Why? It doesn’t matter!”
    â€œIt does! It does! That’s it! I get it!” Iturned to Gemma and Toby. “Reverend Tan told us that Jenna is dyslexic! Professor Philips hadn’t written a letter to Mum. He was delivering the letter from Jenna. He forced her to write it!”
    â€œSophie Seade, if you don’t start running again, I’ll send you to the Head’s!” boomed Mr. Halitosis, and all the flowers around him withered and died in the vapors of his breath.

    I gave him the furious glare he deserved and started running again, Toby and Gemma on my heels.
    â€œHe . . . forced her . . . to write . . . the