Chapter 1
Fell off a camel, backwards!
âWhere are you, Art? Iâve got a problem.â
India was on crutches. She hopped into the classroom. Art was cleaning the mouse house. This week, he was mouse-minder. It was lunchtime. The other children were outside playing.â
âYes, I can see.â The plaster cast on her left leg was a bit hard to miss.
âNot that problem!â India stopped on one leg, beside the desk. She brought her crutches together and rested them against the desk.
âWhat happened?â Art liked details. When youâre a part-time spy, you need to listen a lot.
âFell off a camel, backwards.â
âOh yeah?â Art laughed. Not another tall story. Usually he, not India made them up.
âWe went to the fete. Dad made me go on this little kidsâ merry-go-round because he loves riding. I picked the camel. Then I fell off, backwards. My leg got caught under the cameâs neck. It broke.â
âThe camelâs neck? â asked Art.
âNo! My leg.â
âDoes it hurt? Your leg I mean.â
âNot now. Just itches. But I heard the crack when it happened.â
âUnreal,â said Art. âWhatâs your other problem?â
Clumsily, India moved on her crutches. Art caught one as it fell. Luckily Mino the Mouse clung to his other arm and didnât fall off.
âThanks. I need something for our mystery. I need a ring.â
âWhy? What mystery?â Carefully Art rested the crutch on the desk. It was lighter than he imagined. Perhaps it was hollow.
âFor the missing ring. Weâre doing the Detectives, Diamonds and Dastardly Deeds problem.
âWhat sort of problemâs that?â Art stroked Minoâs grey fur.
âTell you later.â
Being a part-time spy, Art was interested in the word âdetectiveâ. Just a bit. And in problems. He liked solving what went wrong.
âIâll see what I can find. Any kind of ring?â Art put Mino back in the clean mouse-house.
âAn unusual one.â India opened her sandwiches.
âBe back soon,â Art dashed off. âHave to go home for lunch because Mumâs there.â Luckily Art lived around the corner from the school. His mum worked shifts. When she was home, they had lunch together. His dad was away driving his truck interstate.
âWill this do?â
Carefully Art laid out the rings he had found. First was the alarm clock. Heâd borrowed it from Dadâs shed. He wound it up. âRRRRRRâ¦rrrrâ¦â
âSee. It rings.â
âI can hear it. What else?â
Art showed her his ring finger. âYou could have a wedding ring. But Mum wouldnât let me have hers.â
âI donât want a wedding ring,â said India.
âI wasnât going to give you one,â said Art. âBut thereâs a ring top from a Coke can. Then thereâs a netball ring. And a mobile ring to access games. But I couldnât bring that either. â Art loved computer games. He knew all the ones the school owned. And a few others too.
âThatâs a good start.â India reached for her crutches. âDâyou want to join our team, Art? Youâre good at working things out. And itâs a sort of competition. Since Jo left, weâre one short.â
âWhat sort of competition? Art was a competition freak. As long as there wasnât much reading, he entered. He loved being different people and using different names. Sometimes he forgot who he was.
Clumsily, India pulled a booklet out of her desk. It was hard to balance when your leg was out of action. âListen to this. Iâll read it to you. The problem is to solve the mystery of the strange inscription. It was found on the wall of a famous writerâs tomb.â India looked at Art. âAn inscription is words written on stone or wood or something. And a tomb is where dead people are kept.â
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