Half Moon Investigations - Eoin Colfer [13]
The yellow brick road was a sandstone path that wound through the white gravel, leading to a gate in the wall between April’s and May’s houses. The gate was unlocked, and I pushed through to a house pretty much identical to the first one.
April’s cousin May ran down her side of the yellow brick road just as I closed the gate.
‘Fletcher,’ she said. ‘You came. I was just coming to check.’
It was generally acknowledged that May Devereux was the nice one of the pair. She was dressed in full Irish dance costume, including hard shoes. Gold and green were the prominent colours. This, I have to admit, was a surprise.
‘Practising?’
She grimaced. ‘Yes. I want to do better this year in the school talent show. Only a few days to go.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ I said kindly. May’s chance of doing well in any show were about as promising as mine of going on a dream date with Bella Barnes. It was well known in our class that May was the worst dancer in this universe and perhaps any parallel ones. When May tapped out a hornpipe on a wooden floor, it was like listening to a toddler trying to crush a spider with a hammer.
‘Nice costume,’ I said.
‘It’s my lucky dress,’ said May. ‘Nice shirt.’
Mam wouldn’t let me out of the house dressed completely in black. She felt I would be broadcasting negative vibrations. So I agreed to wear a Hawaiian shirt given to me by an uncle who didn’t really know me as a person.
I shrugged apologetically. ‘My mother…’
May nodded. No further explanation was needed. Everyone in Lock knew about my mother’s flamboyant taste in colour.
May’s father appeared behind her, in full gardening regalia, including leather kneepads and thorn-proof gloves. He was tall and lean with a hiker’s tan. In fact, he looked exactly how TV said a father should look, right down to the chequered sweater. He seemed the perfect dad, and husband. My mother and her art appreciation group had been genuinely shocked when May’s mother had walked out on the family a few months earlier.
‘Mr Devereux,’ I said, extending a hand. ‘I’m Fletcher Moon.’
May’s father shook the hand, smiling. Perfect white teeth, of course.
‘Call me Gregor. Ah yes, the young detective. May tells me you have qualifications.’
‘That’s right. I’m certified to practise in the US – Washington to be precise – when I’m twenty-one.’
Mr Devereux nodded seriously. ‘That’s very impressive, Fletcher. Maybe you can help April and May solve this crime of theirs. Or you could, if the girls weren’t completely loopy and imagining the whole thing.’
May’s father winked at me, rotating his index finger by his temple. International sign language for completely loopy.
‘Dad,’ said May, elbowing her father in the ribs.
Mr Devereux groaned theatrically, clutching his side. ‘OK, OK. There is a big conspiracy. Everyone else is loopy, except the two cutie cousins.’
May grabbed my hand. ‘Come on. April is in the Wendy house.’
I was happy to find myself dragged through a garden by a pretty girl from the pink set, but I wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about sitting in a Wendy house. That’s the kind of thing that can get you killed if it leaks out to the boys in school. We followed the path past a seashell fountain, complete with frolicking cherubs, which looked like it hadn’t worked in decades. But this Wendy house was no plastic hut crammed with dollies and toy tea sets. This was an actual mini house with electricity, Internet access and running water.
When we entered, April was at a laptop, poring over a world economics web page. It was a nice system, linked up to a scanner, printer and digital camera.
‘Fletcher’s here,’ said May.
April started, then shook a tiny fist at the computer. ‘Just a sec. I’m trying to check out the latest red-carpet gossip and this educational junk keeps popping up. Honestly, market strengths in Asia. Like, who cares?’
‘A few billion Asians,’ I said.
April scowled at me. I was starting to feel very unloved. That didn’t bother me much. Detectives had to get used to negativity. One of our main functions