Selby Supersnoop Read online

  To the nine lives of Aoi Kashima

  Contents

  Cover

  Beforeword

  Selby Supersnoop, Dog Detective

  Selby in Suspense

  Selby on the Loo(se)

  The Furred Frenzy

  Selby Bites Back

  Pegleg Peggy’s Treasure

  Selby Home and Hosed

  The JAWS that Snatch

  Selby Supersnout

  Selby Unstuck

  Smoochy Pooch

  Phantom Footprints

  Underground Underdog

  High Hat Harry the Happy Hypnotist

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  By the Same Author

  Song for a Dog Detective

  Afterwords

  Copyright

  BEFOREWORD

  SELBY SUPERSNOOP, DOG DETECTIVE

  Selby was all alone and bored silly. There was nothing on TV and no good books to read. Or were there?

  Selby climbed to the top shelves of the bookcase in the study to see if there were any books he hadn’t read. Just when he was about to climb down again, he spied a dusty old book. It was The Art of the Private Investigator by Mary Touchstone, P.I.

  ‘Very interesting,’ Selby thought as he flicked the book off the shelf with his paw and let it crash to the floor. ‘I’ve always wanted to be a detective.’

  In a second, Selby was curled up on the lounge reading the back cover. As he read, his jaw began to quiver with excitement.

  Thrill to the mystery, romance and adventure of the world of the private investigator! Amaze your friends! Have your enemies arrested! Earn big money in crime detection and have a great time! Don’t waste another minute. Read this book and your life will be changed forever!

  ‘Mystery, romance and adventure, wow!’ Selby squealed. ‘That really makes a medium-sized dog’s spine tingle. I can’t wait to have my life changed forever!’

  With trembling paws, Selby opened the book and began to read:

  Anyone can become a private investigator, or a P.I. as we are known. So settle back, follow this easy step-by-step guide and soon you will be solving mysteries all over your neighbourhood.

  ‘I’m settled back, Mary,’ Selby said out loud, ‘and ready to solve mysteries all over my neighbourhood. I can’t wait!’

  All afternoon Selby read through chapters called ‘How to be a Master of Disguise’, ‘How to Spot a Criminal’, ‘How to Tail a Suspect’, ‘How to Find Clues’, ‘How to Overpower People’ and ‘How to Eavesdrop'. It was all there: everything Selby had always wanted to know about solving crimes and catching criminals.

  Finally Selby read the last paragraph in the book:

  Just remember that the world of the private investigator is the world of mystery. Nothing is the way it seems. Look for clues everywhere and suspect everyone and you can’t go wrong. Happy detecting!

  ‘What a great book!’ Selby cried. ‘But where am I going to find my first case? Bogusville is such a boring place. There’s never any crime or anything.’

  But Selby had spoken too soon. The very next day, just when Selby was wondering how he could use his new detective knowledge, there came a knock at the Trifles’ door.

  ‘Excuse me, Dr Trifle,’ the woman said, ‘my name is Eve Amery.’

  ‘The toy soldier collector,’ Dr Trifle said, snapping his fingers. ‘I saw something about you in the newspaper years ago. Come right in.’

  ‘They’re model soldiers. They’re not really toys.’

  ‘How may I help you?’

  ‘There’s been a crime committed and I need your help.’

  Selby’s head shot out from behind the lounge.

  ‘A crime!’ he thought. ‘An actual real live crime here in Bogusville!’

  ‘What crime?’ Dr Trifle asked.

  ‘Someone is stealing my model soldiers,’ Eve said. ‘Let me explain. Emery — he’s my brother — and I live in a house across town. The soldiers were our grandfather’s and when our parents died, they became ours.’

  ‘They’re fighting a battle, I believe.’

  ‘Yes, in a big glass case with hills and trees and trenches. Recently Emery and I decided to sell them but suddenly they started disappearing.’

  ‘Disappearing?’ Dr Trifle said.

  ‘Disappearing,’ Selby thought.

  ‘Someone is stealing them,’ Eve said. ‘Every Tuesday some go missing. Every week there are fewer and fewer. There are practically none left.’

  ‘Have you been to the police?’ Dr Trifle asked.

  ‘Yes, and they were very helpful. But they don’t think anyone is breaking in. We have locks on our doors and bars on all the windows, you see.’

  ‘Then what’s happening?’

  ‘I’m ashamed to say that the police think that Emery — my own dear brother — is taking the soldiers, Dr Trifle.’

  ‘But why would he steal what he already owns?’

  ‘No, no, we own them. The police think he’s selling them and keeping all the money for himself. Every Tuesday evening he catches the bus to the city to visit friends, you see. He could be taking the soldiers then.’

  ‘Why don’t the police arrest him?’

  ‘Because they have no proof.’

  ‘I see,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘So you think that because I’m an inventor I might have an invention that could tell if your brother is taking the soldiers?’

  ‘Do you?’ she asked with a smile.

  ‘Possibly. May I see one of these soldiers?’

  Eve Amery handed three soldiers to Dr Trifle who studied them carefully.

  ‘Got it!’ he said. ‘Each soldier has a hole down the middle. We could slip a little specially charged magnetic strip in there where no one will see it. Then we hide my Super-Sensitive Magnetic Screaming Theft Detector in the bushes outside your house. If anyone walks by with a soldier then —’

  Dr Trifle let out a loud, wailing, machinelike scream. Eve Amery and Selby covered their ears till he stopped.

  ‘That’s marvellous,’ Eve said. ‘May I see this Super-Sensitive Magnetic Screaming Theft Detector of yours, Dr Trifle?’

  ‘Yes, of course. As soon as I’ve made one. I just thought it up a minute ago. But don’t worry; I’ll have one ready by Tuesday.’

  That night Selby lay awake listening as Dr Trifle worked on his new invention.

  ‘This is great!’ Selby thought. ‘Now all we have to do is spring the trap and catch Eve’s brother in the act! Hey, that almost rhymes!’

  On Tuesday evening, Dr Trifle and Sergeant Short hid in the bushes as Eve Amery said goodbye to her brother. None of them knew that Selby had sneaked across town and was hiding in a tree nearby.

  ‘This is so exciting!’ he thought. ‘I’m a real snoop now!’

  Just then, Emery walked down the path and the lights, horns and bells in Dr Trifle’s Super-Sensitive Magnetic Screaming Theft Detector flashed and honked and tinkled all at once.

  ‘What’s that noise?’ Emery screamed.

  ‘I’m afraid you’re under arrest,’ Sergeant Short said, stepping out of the bushes.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For stealing model soldiers and taking them to the city to sell.’

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Emery said. ‘I don’t give two hoots for those stupid things. wouldn’t be caught dead with one!’

  By now, Dr Trifle was pointing a second invention, his new Miniature Hand-Held Super-Sensitive Magnetic Pinging Theft Detector, at Emery’s left-hand coat pocket and it was going ping ping ping so fast that it sounded like the international ping pong play-offs.

  ‘What’s in that pocket?’ Sergeant Short asked.

  ‘Nothing,’ Emery said, reaching in and pulling out five s
oldiers. ‘Hey! How’d they get in there? This is a set-up! You put them in there!’

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us,’ the policeman said.

  Selby watched as Dr Trifle and the policeman led Emery Amery away.

  ‘Poor Eve,’ Selby thought, sniffing a little sniff. ‘She thought her brother was taking the soldiers but knowing is different. She must be grief-stricken.’

  Selby was about to climb down from the tree when something in The Art of the Private Investigator came back to him.

  “‘Nothing is the way it seems’,” he quoted. “‘Suspect everyone and you can’t go wrong’.”

  ‘Hey now, hold the show!’ Selby thought. ‘What if Emery isn’t guilty? What if someone — his sister, for example — put the soldiers in his pocket?’

  From where Selby sat he could just barely see in the window of the house. There was music playing and suddenly Eve Amery danced by, leaping and letting out a series of whooooopeeeees!

  ‘If this woman’s grief-stricken, then I’m a bandicoot’s bottom!’ Selby thought. ‘Something very strange is going on around here.’

  The music stopped and Selby saw Eve Amery dash to the telephone.

  ‘I’d love to hear what she’s saying,’ Selby thought, as he remembered the chapter of the book on how to eavesdrop. ‘If only I could get into the house and listen in. If I can get from this branch to the roof maybe I could pull up a bit of roofing and climb in,’ Selby thought, remembering the chapter called ‘How Burglars Burgle'.

  Quietly as a cat, Selby lowered himself onto the roof, pulled up a bit of roofing and climbed into the house. Through the ceiling he could hear Eve talking on the telephone in the room below.

  ‘… no more problems now that my stupid brother is out of the way. I’ll be on a plane and out of the country as soon as he’s in jail. They’re all mine to sell now! All mine! He’ll never catch up to me!’

  ‘Mary Touchstone, P.I., was right,’ Selby thought as he crawled towards a crack in the ceiling to see down. ‘But how will I tell the police that Eve framed her brother?’

  Selby moved forward again and felt something jab his paw.

  ‘Ouch!’ he cried in plain English. ‘That hurt!’

  There was dead silence below. Selby squinted in the darkness and saw that he’d stepped on a little model soldier. Around him in the darkness he now saw dozens more.

  ‘So this is where she hid them!’ Selby thought.

  Suddenly Eve, hearing Selby’s cry, stood on a chair and opened the secret trapdoor in the ceiling, all of which would have been okay if Selby hadn’t been standing on it at the time. In a second, the door swung down and Selby dropped straight onto the woman, knocking her to the floor unconscious.

  ‘Now to ring the police,’ Selby said, getting up and shaking off a dozen model soldiers.

  In a second, he was speaking to Sergeant Short.

  ‘I have some important information about the Amery case,’ Selby said, putting on a deep detective-like voice. ‘Emery is innocent.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. His sister, Eve, planted those soldiers on him. She hid the others in the ceiling of their house. She was going to sell them and keep all the money for herself.’

  ‘Who are you?’ Sergeant Short asked.

  ‘Never mind who I am,’ Selby said. ‘Just get over to the Amerys’ house straight away and you’ll find Eve asleep on the floor.’

  ‘We’re on our way,’ the policeman said. ‘But tell us how you found all this out.’

  ‘I listened in to a telephone conversation she was having,’ Selby said. ‘That’s what tipped me off.’

  ‘You were listening in? You mean you eavesdropped?’

  ‘You can bet your boots I did,’ Selby laughed. ‘You should have seen me — I dropped right on top of Eve!’

  SELBY IN SUSPENSE

  ‘Talk to me, you dummy dodo dog!’ Willy demanded. ‘You talk to me! I know you can talk so you’d better do it now!’

  Selby was dangling upside down, suspended by a rope tied around his foot. Willy pointed his new video camera at Selby’s face.

  ‘You talk to me or else!’ Willy said. ‘Then I’m going to show the video to everyone. They’ll know I’m not lying.’

  Selby sighed a dog-like sigh and rolled his eyes.

  ‘The brat must think I’m a complete idiot,’ Selby thought. ‘There’s no way I’m ever going to talk to him again no matter what he does to me. I’ll just dangle here from his stupid booby trap till the Trifles find out what’s happening. Then Willy will be in big, big trouble. How did I ever get myself into this mess?’

  Getting into the mess had been easy: Selby knew that Aunt Jetty was going to leave her dreadful son, Willy, with the Trifles while she went shopping. But Selby was on the lookout and ready to hide at a moment’s notice. As soon as they pulled up in front of the house, he was going to head for his favourite hiding bush in the backyard. Willy would never find him there.

  That was the plan — but then Dr Trifle came out of his workroom with another brilliant new invention.

  ‘I call it Breath-Away Miracle Window Cleaner,’ Dr Trifle said, proudly holding the spray bottle next to the front window.

  ‘Window cleaner has already been invented,’ Mrs Trifle pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but I hate all that rubbing and scrubbing. There are always streaks when you finish and you can never get into the corners. Breath-Away is different — watch,’ Dr Trifle said, spraying the inside of the front window.

  ‘It’s gone all cloudy and white,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I can’t see a thing.’

  ‘Just stand back and watch.’

  Sure enough, soon the window cleared and was cleaner than Selby had ever seen it before.

  ‘That’s brilliant!’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But where did the dirt go?’

  ‘It fell down onto the windowsill,’ Dr Trifle explained. ‘Now all you have to do is blow it away. That’s why I call it Breath-Away. I also called it that because it’s such a brilliant invention that it takes your breath away.’

  ‘I’m not sure about this blowing the dirt away business,’ Mrs Trifle said, wiping the specks of dirt from the windowsill with a rag. ‘But it certainly does work. How about going outside and cleaning the other side of the window?’

  Selby stayed inside the house and saw the doctor suddenly disappear as he sprayed the window.

  ‘He’s so clever,’ Selby thought. ‘I wish I was good at inventing inventions.’

  Suddenly the glass cleared and there, standing next to Dr Trifle, was the hideous sight of Aunt Jetty.

  ‘They’re here!’ Selby thought as he ran into the garage and then shot through the hole in the wall and into the backyard. ‘I’ve got to get away before that crazy kid catches me.’

  Just then there was a sproing! and a whizzang! as Selby’s foot landed right in Willy’s booby trap. In a microsecond, Selby was pulled up into the air like a rocket.

  ‘Got you this time!’ Willy giggled, pointing his video camera at Selby. ‘Now you talk, mister stink-face stupi-bottom dog! Talk right now!’

  ‘No way,’ Selby thought. ‘Fat chance. Not on your life! You’ve got to be dreaming. This kid must think I’m a total idiot. I’ll hang here till the cows come home but I’m never ever going to say a word.’

  Selby could hear Dr Trifle talking to Aunt Jetty inside the house.

  ‘Be nice to Willy,’ Aunt Jetty was saying. ‘The poor darling is feeling a bit sad ever since his goldfish died.’

  ‘His goldfish died?’ Dr Trifle said.

  ‘Willy put him in the washing machine. He wanted to watch him surf. Apparently the little fellow wasn’t much of a swimmer because he drowned or something.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about Willy,’ Dr Trifle said as Aunt Jetty drove away. ‘Hmmm, I wonder where he’s got to?’

  Just before Dr Trifle came around the corner of the garage, Willy pulled the release string on his booby trap and Selby came crashing to the ground
.

  ‘Oh, there you are, Willy,’ Dr Trifle said. ‘Having a little play with Selby, are you?’

  ‘He doesn’t like me,’ Willy whined. ‘Look! He just lies there like a dumb-head!’

  ‘He’s probably having a rest,’ Dr Trifle said, spraying some Breath-Away Miracle Window Cleaner on the lens of Willy’s video camera. ‘Come and play with the computer.’

  ‘Every bone in my body aches,’ Selby thought as he limped to the back of the yard and curled up in his hiding bush. ‘Some day, somehow I’m going to get that kid and when I do I’ll …’

  But before he could think of what he’d do to Willy, Selby fell sound asleep. He slept for a while and then something struck him — it was a big stick.

  ‘Wake up, stupo,’ Willy said, waving the stick in the air.

  Selby jumped to his feet and without so much as a second thought, dived for the hole in the back of the garage. But just as he was flying through the air and thinking of how he was going to block the hole and lock Willy out, he remembered Willy’s booby trap.

  ‘Oh, no! It’s probably right inside the garage!’ Selby thought as he sailed through the air. ‘I think he’s tricked me again!’

  Sure enough, just as Selby’s head went through the hole he saw the loop of Willy’s rope lying on the floor. But Selby tucked his legs up tight like a broad-jumper trying to jump an extra centimetre, and glided over the rope and onto the floor beyond.

  Just then, Willy came scrambling through the hole — right onto the rope.

  ‘Yike!’ Willy yelled as the booby trap caught his leg and flung him to the ceiling. ‘It’s got me!’

  The sight of the tiny torturer swinging from a rope was too much for Selby. He let out a long, un-dog-like laugh.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ Willy whimpered.

  ‘If you could see how silly you look,’ Selby said in plain English, ‘you’d laugh too.’

  ‘You talked! You talked!’

  ‘Of course I talked,’ Selby sighed. ‘You know perfectly well I can talk. But it won’t do you a bit of good because nobody believes a word you say.’

  ‘I’m telling!’