“… the fifteen-month-old boy was last seen wearing a pull-up style diaper and a white T-shirt with a picture of an ice-cream cone on the front. The police believe he may have been holding a blue, square security blanket and wasn’t wearing any shoes …”
She was holding a laminated photograph in one hand, and as the camera zoomed in Teddy’s face filled the screen. He was wearing a white shirt with a fancy waistcoat; around his neck was a crumpled, gold necktie that he’d clearly tried to yank off. His pale blue eyes glistened with recent tears—possibly brought on from being stuffed into an outfit that made him look like a miniature magician.
It had been a long time since I’d seen the TV this close up, and it was making my eyes water. Dad scrunched up the bag in his hand and a few tiny crumbs fell onto the carpet. I needed to get back to my room. I turned to go, but then Mum leaped out of her seat again.
“Matthew, you’re on the TV!”
The camera pulled back as the reporter pointed to Mr. Charles’s lawn.
“… last seen playing in his grandfather’s front yard here on Chestnut Close …”
In the top left-hand corner of the screen was our house, and in an upstairs window stood a figure. It was me. I was just standing there, like an idiot, thinking nobody could possibly be looking at me.
“What do you watch up there all day, son? You looking for birds or something? Ornithology?”
Mum gave him a glare.
“I’m only asking, Sheila.”
I ignored them.
“… the police are calling for anyone with information to get in touch with the incident room at …”
The screen cut to a phone number. Mum turned to me and smiled, patting the sofa beside her.
“Why don’t you stay down here with us this evening, Matthew? Watch a bit of TV to take your mind off everything? I don’t expect we’ll get much sleep tonight.”
“No, not tonight, thanks,” I said.
Mum stood up and I had the feeling she was going to try and touch me, so I quickly dodged around her and ran upstairs to wash my hands. Eleven squirts of antibacterial soap, some scalding hot water, and nine washes later and I felt a bit better.
It was still busy outside with police coming and going. Mr. Charles’s front yard looked like a bizarre gift-wrapped present: The front wall and gate were draped in yellow tape. An officer I hadn’t seen before stood guarding the door. Mr. Jenkins and Hannah were in their own yard, his arm draped heavily around her shoulder. I wondered if she knew what a horrible teacher her husband was. I don’t suppose it was the kind of thing he mentioned at home: Hello, darling. I made a boy cry during gym today! It was that weird kid next door. He said he had to wash his hands after throwing one javelin. Can you believe it? I told him he was on a pathway to failure and if he carried on like this he’d be a failure for the rest of his life …
The thought of the PE lesson made my eyes fill but I blinked the tears away, refusing to cry over it again. Hannah turned around and I saw her huge pregnant stomach, so I quickly looked away.
The computer trumpeted an email’s arrival.
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Subject: Urgent
If you’re going to investigate Teddy’s disappearance properly, then you’re going to need my help.
Melody
I read the email over a few times.
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Re: Urgent
What?
Matthew
I ran to my room and grabbed a new bottle of water. Next door’s backyard was surrounded by four industrial lamps ready for when darkness fell. Three police officers stood on the patio discussing something. I went back to the office, drinking half of the water as I read Melody’s next email.
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Re: Urgent
Well, you’re not doing a very good job so far by making wild accusations about me! And, I’m not being rude here but you don’t go out and you can’t do much from your house, can you? You’re going to need someone at street level. Someone to do the actual investigating.
I quickly typed back.
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Re: Urgent
And I suppose that someone is you?!
I found that I was smiling as I hit Send.
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Re: Urgent
Yes.
Face it, Matthew, you can’t do it without me! I’m willing to forgive you for what you wrote in your notebook. I understand that you need to write your ideas down, even if that one was INCREDIBLY STUPID. [She inserted an emoji here with its face all screwed up.]
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Re: Urgent
Melody Bird, you are definitely one of a kind.
A few seconds later her reply pinged up on the screen.
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Re: Urgent
I know.
When do we start?
I sat there for two minutes, thinking.
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Re: Urgent
Suspects number one and two are Mr. Charles and Casey. See if you can get into their house tomorrow. Make an excuse, take over a cake or something? Do some snooping around? See what mood he’s in—does he seem too happy considering his grandson has disappeared? Is Casey acting like a girl whose brother is missing?
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Re: Urgent
Aye, aye, captain! I’ll go now!
Over and out …
She was bonkers.
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Subject: HOLD ON!
Maybe now isn’t the best time!! It’s late and the police are busy there, etc…. Leave it until the morning?
I hit Send but she didn’t reply, and then fifteen minutes later she came out of her house balancing a plate along her forearm. As she crossed the road I could see it was some kind of long sponge cake, and on top she’d randomly stuck loads of chocolate ladyfingers. It looked like a strange, spiky caterpillar. I cringed, wishing I hadn’t said anything.
“Oh Melody,” I whispered to myself.
The policeman on the doorstep was gone, and she struggled to unlock Mr. Charles’s gate with one hand, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on keeping the cake on the plate. As she got to the front door she glanced at my window and gave me a thumbs-up.
I groaned as I sat back down at the desk. I couldn’t bear to watch. Ten minutes later she was sprinting across the close, an empty plate smeared with chocolate in her hand. I waited at the computer.
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Subject: Casey
The whole cake thing worked (well done you!). He asked me in to say hello to Casey. Boy, that kid is creepy! She just sat in the corner playing with some horrible doll and didn’t even look up! You were right—she certainly doesn’t seem bothered about Teddy at all!
To: Melody Bird
From: Matthew Corbin
Re: Casey
And what about Mr. Charles? Did he seem upset?
To: Matthew Corbin
From: Melody Bird
Re: Casey
Kind of. His eyes were red like he’d been crying. There was one weird thing though. He ate a GIGANTIC slice of cake! Can you believe it? I thought stress killed an appetite?!
Anyway, let me know my next assignment!
Over and out.
Agent Mel x
I went to my room and lay on my bed, my arms beneath my head, staring up at the ceiling.
“Where’s he gone, Lion? Who’s got him?”
The police had turned the lights on in Mr. Charles’s yard, and they made a pattern on my wall. A yellow spotlight circled the Wallpaper Lion high up in his corner. His one puffed-up cheek grinned back at me like a tacky TV game show host.
Soooooo, the question for you, Matthew Corbin, is this: Who exactly is to blame for the mysterious disappearance of Teddy Dawson? Is it:
a) Casey Dawson. This little darling may appear innocent, but she has an unhealthy habit of pushing small children into ponds. Could she have done something to Teddy?
b) Mr. Charles. Grandfatherly love does not come easy to this old man. Could he be responsible for the missing boy?
c) Jake Bishop. He’s a bitter youth who gets kicks out of making others miserable. Could his attention seeking have taken him a step too far?
d) Matthew Corbin. This strange, lonely boy seemed to believe it was okay to leave a fifteen-month-old alone in a front yard in soaring temperatures. And let’s not forget what he did to his baby brother, Callum …