Free Scam on the Cam by Clementine Beauvais

asked Toby.
    â€œThe thieves,” I whispered. “Gemz—the thieves that the pirate was talking about!”
    â€œWhat thieves?”
    â€œThe zieves!”
    â€œAh, yes, the zieves. What about them?”
    â€œThey’re here! In the boathouse! Stealing from barges, burgling them! All that in order to . . .”
    All the neurons in my brain lined themselves up into a nice little hypothermia. I mean,hypothesis.
    â€œ. . . in order to pay for the poison! Yes, that’s it! Since they can’t make it themselves, they’re paying someone else to make it for them!”
    â€œWho?” asked Toby. “Rob?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “Not Rob. Julius and Gwendoline Hawthorne.”
    â€œAh, no!” protested Gemma. “Stop it with that stupid idea. You humiliated us enough last time. How many times will I need to tell you? They’ve got nothing to do with that!”
    â€œI have clues, this time,” I said. “Remember what the pirate told me? That the silhouette of the thief that they’d seen was a short, small man. Why short and small? Because he’s eleven years old! Gwen sends him stealing from the barges. It can’t possibly have been Rob; he’s huge.”
    â€œI refuse to believe it,” said Gemma. “They want Cambridge to win. They wouldn’t poison anyone.”
    â€œRefuse to believe it all you like,” I said, “as long as you lend me your phone. I need to call Jeremy and I’ve run out of credit.”
    She agreed reluctantly, and I dialed Susie’s number.
    â€œHello?” said Jeremy’s voice on the other end of the line.
    â€œHello, boss. Sesame Seade speaking.”
    â€œWhat’s up, Sess?”
    â€œI’ve found enough clues to frame Gwendoline Hawthorne and her brother Julius.”
    â€œExcellent news. Can you write it all down in an e-mail?”
    â€œNo, you have to come over. I’m at the university boathouse.”
    â€œI can’t possibly. I’ve got an essay crisis. And my foot’s hurting a bit, and also I’m going out for coffee with some girl later . . .”
    â€œCome here immediately or I’m handing in my notice.”
    â€œI’ll be with you in five minutes.”
    I hung up and turned to the sidekicks. “Right, let’s go and wait for him outside.”
    So we wormed our way out through the window, climbed over the balcony, slid down the wooden beam and jumped to the grou—
    â€œZis time I’ve GOT you!”
    And as we kicked the air to try to escape the mighty clutch, we heard the terrible, awful, horrible, ignoble, not-good-news-at-all noise of a rain of jewelry on the floor.
    And behind us, the voice of the French pirate:
    â€œYou see, Patricia? What did I tell you! It’s zem! It’s ZEM! ZEY ARE ZE ZIEVES!”

VIII
    â€œOkay,” I said, “I know what it looks like. But it’s a hilarious misunderstanding. Just put us down on the floor and we’ll explain, and you’ll laugh your head off.”
    Marcel put us down on the floor and said, “I’m not laughing yet!”
    â€œLet me explain. It’s really funny, because you think we’ve just stolen all this jewelry.”
    â€œVery funny indeed,” growled Patricia.
    â€œBut in fact we haven’t. We absolutely haven’t.”
    â€œYou have,” said Marcel. “Well, in fact,
you
have!” he added, pointing at Toby.
    â€œMe?” exclaimed Toby.
    â€œWe’ve seen you many times! We saw youagain on Monday night!” thundered Marcel. “Jumping away from Fran’s barge, having stolen her little gold chain with ze little boat charm on it!”
    â€œShe told us she’d been burgled the next morning,” said Patricia. “And we put two and two together. It was you we saw running away from the barge!”
    â€œIt can’t have been,” I said,