Mummy Madness (5 page)

It was lunchtime and the gravedigger
couldn't believe his luck. It was such a rare treat to be sitting by the fire
in his favourite pub on a work day! He watched the rain pelting down. He was on his
fourth pint of his unexpected day off. He had an envelope of crisp twenties in his
back pocket, with a note. ‘Ring in sick,' Mr Big had written. ‘No
graves to be filled in today.' He looked at the foul weather outside and
sauntered back to the bar. ‘One more, please, my good man,' he slurred,
‘and some pork scratchings.'

Fifty metres away the vicar stood under
an umbrella, sheltering his prayer book from the wet. The coffin had been lowered
into the ground and he muttered a few words. ‘Ashes to
ashes … whatever to whatever,' he began. He looked up at the grey
sky and then down
at the hole in the
ground. He considered it a double whammy.
Bad weather plus the dead man is a
prisoner. It's no wonder there isn't a single relative at the
funeral.
He pulled up his cassock and hurried back to the warmth of the
vicarage.

It was 9 p.m. before the landlord
decided to stop serving. ‘Come on, Albert,' he soothed, wrapping the
gravedigger's coat round his shoulders. ‘You've had one too many.
Best you get off home.'

Albert didn't live far away, but
the zigzagging tripled the distance. He'd forgotten exactly how many pints of
beer he'd drunk, but most of the crisp twenties had gone. He took his usual
short cut past the church, staggering through the graveyard.

The most evil man in the world counted
patience as one of his best qualities. Just behind ‘evil',
‘menace' and ‘brutality'. He checked the luminous dial of
his watch:
9 p.m.
The rain had turned to drizzle and he knew that it would
be dark outside. He also knew that the guards would soon work out what was going
on
. They'll have found the dead Dr Desmond Farquhar in my bed. And,
even though they're incredibly stupid, they'll be putting two and
two together.

The coffin lid
creaked open and Mr Big looked up at the night sky. Light rain fell on to his face
and he grinned an evil grin. It was great to be on the outside. He scrambled out of
the grave, muddy and wet.

The gravedigger stood and watched as the
fingernails clawed at the earth and the soil-covered man rose from the dead.

 

 

‘Evening,' mumbled Mr Big.

The gravedigger dropped his kebab.

‘Swapsies,' growled the dead
man. ‘I'll be needing your clothes and then in you go,' he said,
pointing down to the empty coffin.

The gravedigger was regretting the last
half-dozen drinks. He knew there was no way you should argue with someone rising
from the dead. He clambered down into the hole and sat in the coffin in his
pants.

‘Close it.' The lid slammed
shut and the gravedigger was glad to be somewhere safe and warm.

The dead man hobbled away into the
night.

‘Sit upright,' woofed Lara
to Spud. ‘Your tummy's sagging.'

The puppy breathed in, making an effort
to hold his belly in. He was excited because this was a special day and he was sure
there would be special food.

Lara thought Mum and Dad looked nervous.
Ollie had been pointing at all the portraits and asking who they were.
‘Thatcher,' explained Dad, recognizing the only picture of a woman.
‘And Churchill,' he noted, spotting the famous ‘V for
Victory' sign.

‘I thought
Churchill was a dog,' exclaimed Ollie, looking puzzled.

‘
Winston
Churchill was a
very famous British prime minister,' said Mum. ‘In fact, all those
pictures are of prime ministers.'

Ollie's fizzy drink had kicked in.
Everything's exciting when you're six
, smiled Lara as the
little boy sprinted to the window.

‘And why are the police stopping
all those people from coming down this street?' he asked.

‘We've got special
permission,' explained Sophie. ‘This is Downing Street, where the Prime
Minister lives. And this is Number Ten. His
actual
house.'

Lara looked round at her family.
I'm so proud
, she thought.
The pups are so happy to have the
kids. And the kids so happy to have the pups. And don't the children look
splendid in what Mum calls their ‘Sunday best'?
Lara wondered
why they'd been summoned to Number Ten
. We've met him
before
,
she recalled
. It might be good news
,
she hoped,
thinking of a possible community award for the pups.
We have slashed crime in
our neighbourhood.

Lara was snapped out of her thoughts as
the PM's door opened and the Cook family were
ushered into his office. Professor Cortex was already
there, looking a little nervous.
Not good
, thought Lara, her instincts
taking over.

There was no time to chat because the PM
swept in. Lara couldn't help but notice that he also looked rather nervous.
‘Please take a seat,' he said. Mum and Dad chose luxury red leather
armchairs. Sophie and Ben sat on the edge of the big sofa. Ollie leapt on to the
other sofa and bounced up and down until he caught his mother's glare.

Lara and the professor preferred to
stand.

‘Mr and Mrs Cook,' began the
Prime Minister, ‘I'm afraid I have some, erm, news.'

‘What kind of
“news”?' demanded Mrs Cook.

‘Not particularly good news,
I'm afraid,' winced the PM. ‘It's Mr Big, you see,' he
stammered, glancing at Mrs Cook.

‘What do I see?' she
enquired as the PM suddenly felt hot under the collar.

‘He's … you
know …' He glanced at Professor Cortex, his eyes pleading for help.

 

 

‘Escaped,' blurted the professor. ‘Gone
and done it again! Not my fault this time,' added the scientist, wincing at a
bad memory. ‘The police found a dead man in his bed and a naked gravedigger in
a coffin, and …'

‘We think we know where he
is,' interrupted the Prime Minister, scrabbling for some good news.

‘Well, capture him then!'
blurted Mrs Cook. ‘He's evil. And he's after revenge.' All
eyes fell on the family pet. ‘On Lara.'

‘Quite,' added the PM.
‘If only it was that easy.'

Lara looked round at her adopted family.
I chose well
, she considered.
They are fiercely loyal to me
.
She looked at the youngest, Ollie. He was jumping on the sofa, shooting imaginary
bullets at the imaginary Mr Big. Sophie was biting her bottom lip. Ben patted
Lara's head reassuringly
. I'm officially the family pet
, she
thought,
but Ben is my best buddy
.

Lara hadn't always been a family
pet. She thought back to her Spy Dog days.
Adventure, excitement,
missions … saving the world. But then it all went horribly wrong.
Her mind sped back to her first encounter with the evil Mr Big
. In a forest. He
had a gun and all I had was my Spy Dog training. I took some bullets
, she
thought, her paw touching the hole in her sticky-up ear.
But he
came off worse. Teeth marks in his backside
, she
grinned.
And a life sentence.

‘Letting him escape once is bad
enough,' said Mrs Cook, her finger waving at the PM just like it did at the
children. ‘But twice is just … well …'

‘Criminal?' offered Ollie,
bouncing up and down.

‘Exactly,' she snarled.
‘So where is he? You said you know where he is. So where
exactly
is
he?'

The PM smoothed his hair and sat down.
‘Let's all relax,' he said, looking specifically at Mrs Cook.
‘We have a plan to recapture Big.' Everyone immediately seemed at ease.
‘But,' he said, looking the retired Spy Dog in the eye, ‘we need
your help.'

A man came into the room with a pot of
coffee and some juice. Another man wheeled in a trolley and Spud eyed the plates of
food, his eyes on stalks.
Cheese and pickled onions, on sticks
, he wagged.
Only my fave thing in the whole entire universe!
Drinks were poured
while a lady in a sharp suit set up a projector and laptop. Lara took a sip of her
juice and the PM pressed a button.

‘GM451,' began the PM. Lara
shook her head.
Retired Spy Dog
, she thought.
Plain old Lara now, thank
you very much.
She took a pencil in her mouth and wrote ‘LARA'
on a pad in front of her before pawing it across to the Prime Minister.

‘Lara,' he smiled, ‘I
would like to personally apologize. We are searching for a new governor of Hurtmore
Prison. And we are, of course,
ahem
, searching for the world's most
terrible criminal mastermind. However, we don't want to scare the public, so
we have kept Big's escape out of the news. If it were to leak out, then there
would be panic on the streets. So hush-hush,' he said, tapping his nose.
‘Mum's the word,' he smiled, casting a glance at Mrs Cook.
‘Top-secret stuff.'

‘You said you knew where he
was,' said Ben.

The PM raised a nervous eyebrow. He
pressed a button and a fuzzy picture was beamed on to the screen.

‘Here's our man,' said
Professor Cortex, taking up the story. ‘Not the best quality pic, but this
shows Big at the British Museum. The dark glasses and beard are an attempt at a
disguise, but it's him all right.'

 

 

It was the PM's turn. ‘The
police were called, but Big had disappeared before they arrived. But he's been
there twice in the last two days. To the same part of the museum actually. The
Egyptian Room.'

Lara put her paw to her head and
scratched.
Why would he risk being caught out in the open?
she thought
.
He must know there are CCTV cameras at the museum.

Another picture was beamed on to the
screen. It was a black and white image of a handsome young man. ‘This one is
an oldie,' said the professor. ‘It shows Big's cellmate, Dr
Desmond Farquhar, in the desert. He spent a lifetime searching for the so-called
Nile Ruby. While the world marvelled at the pyramids, he had a theory that the
Egyptians had actually buried their most precious artefacts far away from
them.' He studied the puzzled
expressions around him. ‘Basically, he thought the pyramids were a
decoy.' The professor paused, his eyebrows creased into a frown. ‘Kind
of makes sense, if you think about it. Why would you erect a huge pyramid which
basically advertises where your jewels are?'

The Prime Minister clicked again.
‘And this was Dr Farquhar just before he died.' There was a sharp intake
of breath as the spring onion old man in prison uniform was beamed on to the
screen.

‘I can't believe it's
the same man,' gasped Sophie. ‘He looks wild. And his eyes are kind of
crazy-looking.'

‘Crazy indeed,' agreed
Professor Cortex. ‘At least that's what most people thought. We think he
was probably driven mad because he'd found out where the Nile Ruby was, but
was unable to get at it.'

‘What was he in prison for?'
asked Ben. ‘He doesn't look dangerous.'

The PM looked down at his notes.
‘He broke into the British Museum thirty-four times. On the final occasion
there was a terrible accident and one of the guards was killed. So our man
went down for murder. And whatever he was
trying to steal has remained a secret.'

‘Until now,' said Professor
Cortex. ‘He'd made notes on his cell wall. Mostly in hieroglyphics,
which is the ancient language of the Egyptians. As Edward – I mean, the Prime
Minister, said, most people thought he was mad, what with his tales of mummies,
long-lost legends, rubies and whatever else. But,' he said, glancing at the
PM, ‘what if he wasn't?'

Lara's eyes widened with interest.
Even Spud took his eyes off the cheese and pickle for a second.

‘You mean, what if the legend of
the Nile Ruby is true?' gasped Ben.

‘Remember, this man spent time
with Mr Big. And there's something that we haven't told you. The old man
was poisoned. And, since his escape, Big has been spotted at the
same
museum.
Twice.
The bits of the jigsaw seem to be fitting
together.'

The professor pointed at the big screen
where there were images of the old man's cell wall. ‘I've examined
his writing,' he said, looking over the top of his spectacles. ‘Very
interesting indeed. In ancient times, the richest Egyptians were buried with their
possessions.'

‘So they
could use them in the afterlife,' continued Ben. ‘We did it in
history.'

‘Then you'll also know about
the mummification process,' said the professor.

Ben's eyes lit up. ‘I know
that they used to remove the internal organs. Heart and lungs and stuff.'

‘And that they pulled their brains
out through their noses,' added Ollie, yanking an imaginary brain from his
left nostril.

‘Well,' said Professor
Cortex, ‘from the writing on his cell wall, it seems that the Nile Ruby was in
fact buried with Qua'a.' He clicked a button on the laptop and a
magnified picture lit up the screen. ‘This was drawn on the cell wall. See the
dog's head?'

Human and dog heads nodded.

‘That represents Qua'a. And
see what's
inside
the head?'

The professor magnified the image
further still.

‘Looks like a diamond?'
suggested Sophie, squinting at the blurry image.

‘A ruby actually,' nodded
the professor. ‘This is what drove Dr Farquhar mad. He searched the cave for
the ruby, but couldn't find it. The
one place he didn't look was
inside
the
mummy. According to Dr Desmond's theory, the brain had been removed and
replaced with the ruby! Don't you see?' jabbered the professor, his
glasses sliding down his nose in excitement. ‘It was the only place he
didn't
look.'

‘Yuk,' said Sophie.
‘So the most expensive jewel in the world is inside the head of the
mummy.'

‘Which explains why Dr Farquhar
tried to break in thirty-four times,' gasped Ben.

‘And why Mr Big is now trying to
break in,' added Sophie.

‘So why are we here?' asked
Ben.

‘I need a favour,' began the
PM. ‘From GM451 and the Spy Pups actually.'

Lara lifted an eyebrow at the Prime
Minister.

‘I … I mean
Lara
and her pups,' he corrected. ‘I would like
Britain's finest canine spies to recapture Mr Big.'

Spud's head jerked away from the
food trolley and he nearly fell off his seat with excitement.
A
mission!

Star wagged her tail so hard it banged
on the PM's desk.

 

 

Lara looked less sure.
Spy
Dog … retired
, she thought
. I don't do danger any more,
remember?

The professor mopped his brow. ‘Mr
Big's escape has been kept secret,' he said. ‘To stop the public
from panicking. We think he's after the ruby but, quite frankly, there's
no telling what he might do next. And, as I'm sure you realize, he has a
rather large grudge against GM451 and the Cook family.'

We did capture him
, wagged Lara
with a satisfied doggie grin on her face.

‘You mean he might come after
us
?' said Sophie, her eyes full of fear.

‘Not if we
can recapture him,' noted the PM. ‘We can't flood the museum with
police or Big will know we're on to him. He'd disappear and that would
be … fatal,' he said, regretting the choice of word. ‘He
doesn't know we're on to him and that's how it needs to
remain,' he added gravely. ‘This has to be top secret. Three Spy Dogs
against one arch-criminal. Of course, if anything went wrong, my government would
have to deny all knowledge.'

‘Like
Mission
Impossible
?' yapped Spud.

‘Should we choose to accept
it,' warned Lara.

‘Please, Ma,' yapped Star.
‘We'd be helping to protect our beloved family. Let's do what the
PM wants. Let's get that horrible man back behind bars, where he
belongs.'

Lara looked at her puppies and then at
the children. She weighed up the danger of Mr Big tracking them down versus the
danger of trying to capture him at the museum. Her heart pounded with excitement.
She nodded at the PM.
This Spy Dog is available for one last mission.