Detective Nosegoode and the Museum Robbery - Softcover

Orton, Marian

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1782691596 ISBN 13: 9781782691594

Publisher: Pushkin Children's Books, 2018

Synopsis

The third in a series of irresistibly charming, beautifully illustrated children's classics - the adventures of Detective Nosegoode and his talking dog, Cody.

A famous picture is in danger of being stolen, the headquarters of the Circle of the Aficionados of Checkers has been robbed and an elusive pickpocket strikes at the celebrations to mark the hundredth anniversary of the founding of Lower Limewood. This small town seems to have a attracted quite a number of thieves - a good job they can count the brilliant Detective Nosegoode and his faithful Cody among their residents.

About this title

About the Author:

Marian Orlon (1932-1990) worked as a teacher, and then a librarian while pursuing an extremely successful career as a children's writer. His subtle sense of humour and exciting plots made the stories in his Detective Nosegoode series bestsellers in Poland. His books have now been translated into six languages. In 1981 he was given Poland's highest literary honour, the Council of Ministers award, for his life's work.

Jerzy Flisak (1930-2008) was a well-known Polish illustrator and designer of film posters and stage sets. He illustrated more than 70 books over his long career.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

Detective Ambrosius Nosegoode – a famous resident
of Ashworth feared by criminals everywhere – was
tugging at the few hairs left on his head and mumbling
something under his breath. On the desk in
front of him lay a newspaper with a half-solved
crossword puzzle. It was this crossword that was
the cause of all the hair tugging and unintelligible
muttering. In one corner of the room Cody the dog
was lying on a patterned rug and watching his master
with amusement.
Mr Nosegoode caught Cody’s amused look and
burst out, “If you’re so smart, tell me what this is:
‘More valuable than gold; more faithful than one’s
own shadow’.”
Cody slowly yawned and replied casually, “It
couldn’t be more obvious: a dog.”*
“A dog, did you say?” the detective livened up.
He bent over the crossword, counted the squares
and exclaimed, “It fits! Congratulations! You’re
amazing!”
* (Readers familiar with the previous two books about Mr Nosegoode
– Detective Nosegoode and the Music Box Mystery and Detective
Nosegoode and the Kidnappers – will already know that Cody has
perfect command of the human language. It should be noted that
the three adventures described in this book take place earlier than
those in the previous two books – before Mr Nosegoode retired and
moved with Cody to Lower Limewood.)

Cody nodded with an indulgent smile.
“A person who takes so long to realize that his
dog is amazing does not deserve to have such a dog.”
“Are you giving me a hard time?” Mr Nosegoode
asked in an offended voice.
“No. I’m being philosophical,” the dog replied and
stretched out on the rug.
Mr Nosegoode shrugged and bent over the crossword
again.
“Empty-headed and...” he muttered.
The dog leapt up onto all fours.
“I beg your pardon? I object!” he growled.
Mr Nosegoode blinked in surprise.
“What do you object to?”
“This talk about my head. What’s in it is my own
business.”
Mr Nosegoode burst out laughing.
“Cody, my friend!” he chuckled. “I have an excellent
opinion of your head, believe me!”
“So why are you talking rubbish, about how it’s
empty?”
“I’m not talking rubbish. That’s the next crossword
clue.”
“What a silly donkey I am!” Cody said as he also
snorted with laughter.
They laughed together, as they often did in their
small, cheerful flat in Lilac Street. This time, however,
their merriment was cut short by the shrill ring of the
telephone. They fell silent and exchanged puzzled looks.
“Who could it be?” Ambrosius wondered out loud,
walking over to the phone.
The dog followed.
“Hello?” the detective answered.
“Is this Mr Ambrosius Nosegoode?” an unfamiliar
voice in the receiver asked.
“Yes, that’s me,” Ambrosius confirmed.
“Inspector!” The breathless voice shouted so clearly
that Cody could hear every word. “We need your
help! If you don’t help us, something terrible might
happen...”
“I’m sorry,” Ambrosius interrupted a bit impatiently,
“but I don’t know with whom I have the pleasure...”
“Oh, I’m the one who should apologize!” said
the unidentified speaker, who was suddenly embarrassed.
“I’ve completely lost my head. My name is
Vincent Fiddlestick. I’m the director of the Ashworth
Museum.”
“Good morning, Mr Fiddlestick,” Ambrosius said,
automatically bowing. “Now, please tell me calmly
what danger is looming over your head.”
“It’s not over my head!” Vincent Fiddlestick
quickly protested. “There’s something far more
valuable than my head that’s in danger! What is
at stake is an outstanding work of art, the pride of
our museum – the famous painting of Ashworth at
sunset by Bonaventure Splotch!”
Ambrosius gave Cody a meaningful look, to show
that this was a serious matter indeed, and continued
listening attentively to the director’s story.
“About an hour ago,” the voice from the receiver
went on, “two unidentified individuals appeared at
the museum. They showed suspicious interest in this
specific painting, and I’m sure that...”
“Just a second,” interrupted the detective, not letting
him finish, “couldn’t they just have been ordinary
art lovers? Bonaventure Splotch’s masterpiece is so
beautiful that it’s hard to walk past it without paying
it any attention.”
“That’s out of the question!” the director said
decisively. “I can tell an art lover from a mile off. A
true art lover, Mr Nosegoode, is sure to notice other
precious works of art, of which we have plenty in
our museum. But not those two. They walked past
them as if all the other works on display were cabbages
at a market stall! They didn’t stop until they
got to Ashworth at Sunset, and then they whispered
in front of it for a while. And there’s more. Our
doorman, who happened to be walking by, heard
something which leaves no doubt about their intentions.”
“What was it?” Mr Nosegoode interrupted the
director again.
“‘We have to nab it tonight’,” the director said.
This made a strong impression on the detective.
“I see,” he said. “It sounds like your fears are well
founded. I will deal with these villains. Just tell me
what they look like and where I can find them.”
“What they look like? Hmm...” the director was
flummoxed. “They look completely normal; there’s
nothing unusual about them. But they differ in
height: one is over six feet tall, while the other
barely comes up to his shoulders. As for where to
find them, my guess is that they’re at the Hambone
Inn. They were heading in that direction a few
minutes ago.”
“Thank you, that’s all I need to know,” Mr Nosegoode
said. “I’ll go there straight away and discreetly keep
an eye on them. Take heart, Mr Fiddlestick! We won’t
let them steal our treasure!”
“Let’s hope for the best!” Vincent Fiddlestick
declared emotionally.
Mr Nosegoode hung up the receiver and turned
to his dog.
“Did you hear all that?” he asked.
“Yes, every word,” Cody said.
“So, off to the Hambone Inn!” the detective commanded.
Cody licked his lips.
“Happily! There are few places on earth I love as
much as that friendly pub.”
And so they went.
The Hambone Inn occupied the ground floor
of an old building in Singing Starlings Place. It
was famous among local dogs and their owners
because it was the only establishment in town that
welcomed every Rover, Fido and Spot regardless of
breed, shape or size. Dogs were not only allowed
but were positively encouraged to come inside.
“Dogs warmly welcome!” announced the big sign
on the door, inspiring genuine fondness in every
dog’s heart.
This wasn’t the only sign that adorned the outside
of the pub. There was another, at the sight of which
Cody’s mouth watered instantly. It advertised the
speciality of the house: bones simmered in butter –
Cody’s favourite dish. It was no wonder that deep
down inside he was almost grateful to the suspicious
admirers of Bonaventure Splotch.
They stepped inside and looked around the room.
Portraits of distinguished-looking canines gazed down
at them from the walls, and no less distinguishedlooking
men and women sat at the tables – under
which the cream of the crop of dog society was busy
chewing on bones.
As Cody scanned the room for acquaintances,
Ambrosius looked for the admirers of the treasured
painting. He had no problem identifying them: they
were the only customers who were not accompanied
by a dog, which was an obvious giveaway. They sat in
the corner of the room, sipping beer and discussing
something excitedly. The fact that there were no
free tables anywhere near them made Ambrosius’s
task of spying on them rather difficult.
Luckily, I have a dog, he thought, taking a seat at a
table beside a large tile stove. Reassured, he bent down
and spoke directly in Cody’s ear, while pretending
to tie a shoelace.
“They’re here. They’re sitting in the corner, whispering
feverishly. We must not let them out of our
sight. Try to get close to them. So as not to arouse
their suspicions, act as though you want to play with
that friendly puppy hanging around their table. Go
now – and good luck!”
Cody nodded to show he’d understood. Wagging
his tail amiably, he strolled over to the young dog.
They met next to the muddy shoes of one of the
suspects and quickly started having fun together.
Ambrosius watched them for a moment, but he was
interrupted when a waiter approached to take his order.
“Good day to you, Inspec...” He bowed and broke
off abruptly when the detective gestured for him
to stop.
“I understand,” the waiter winked at Ambrosius
knowingly. “It’s good to see you again. What can I
get you?”
“A small black coffee and a bone simmered in
butter please,” Mr Nosegoode said. “A big one!” he
added with emphasis.
The waiter bowed again and hurried off to the
kitchen.
Ambrosius pulled The Voice of Ashworth out of his
pocket, unfolded it like a screen in front of him and
resumed watching Cody.
If he didn’t know better – if he wasn’t aware of
just how seriously Cody treated his every request –
he would have thought that the dog had forgotten
all about his instructions. He seemed to be having a
great time, not paying the least attention to the two
men whispering above him. But Ambrosius knew
his dog, and he had no doubts as to what lay behind
this carefree play.
He wasn’t mistaken. Cody romped about and frolicked
just as much as his new young friend, but at the
same time he strained his ears to catch every word.
The first thing he heard confirmed his suspicions: the
two strangers were preparing a cunning plan to rob
the museum! Vincent Fiddlestick had been right to
worry about the fate of the most precious canvas in
his collection, and he’d been right to ask Detective
Nosegoode for help: the robbers really did have their
eyes on the treasured painting.
Their discussion lasted about a quarter of an hour.
Then the two thieves clinked their glasses in a toast
to the success of their plot, drank the last of their
beer and left the pub.
When the door closed behind them, Cody said
goodbye to his friendly companion, who was
disappointed that the fun had come to an end, and
sprinted back to Ambrosius.
“So?” the detective asked quietly, pretending to
be completely absorbed in his newspaper.
“Sensational news!” Cody whispered back. “A real
bombshell! I know their plans for the robbery! I’ll
tell you everything once we’re outside. Now how
about that bone?”
“It’s on its way.”
And indeed, just at that moment the waiter came
up to the table, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand
and a plate with a huge bone in the other.
“Doesn’t it look delicious?” he said as he presented
the dish. “You know,” he turned to Mr Nosegoode,
“sometimes I wish I were a dog.”
Mr Nosegoode laughed cordially, while Cody
looked at the waiter with interest. He soon turned
his attention to the bone, however, since he knew
people too well to take everything they said seriously.
He finished his meal surprisingly quickly, while
Ambrosius also drank his coffee in record time, and
they were soon out on the street again.
“Tell me!” the detective could hardly wait.
Cody looked all around to make sure they were
alone and then related the details of the devious
plan to steal the painting. The detective listened,
shaking with indignation. When the dog reached
the end, he burst out, “What scoundrels! Thieves!
Cunning foxes! We’ll see who outwits whom! I’ll
teach them such a lesson that they’ll remember our
Splotch for the rest of their lives! Let’s get started,
my friend.”
Cody looked at him with admiration.
“What are you planning to do?” he asked.
“You’ll soon see. Let’s go and talk to Director
Fiddlestick. I have a great deal to tell him.”
As they approached the museum, which was
located in the centre of a large park, the clock on
the nearby church tower struck four.

About this edition

• Publisher: Pushkin Children's Books
• Publication date: 2018
• ISBN 10: 1782691596
• ISBN 13: 9781782691594
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 128
• Illustrator: Flisak Jerzy