Detective Mya Dove 3 Book Collection: Detective Mya Dove, #6

Chapter 1

The week started with a tough Maths lesson. I thought Maths was bad last year, but it was worse now. I missed just adding up and taking away small numbers. Now we had to multiply and divide by twelve too!

No calculator allowed, our teacher Mrs Cherry said. You’ve got to use your heads!

How could we concentrate when it was so early in the morning? Some sunshine would’ve made us feel better, but it was cold, dark and rainy outside.

Just do your very best, children, Mrs Cherry said happily. Isn’t Maths fun?

Yes, Mrs Cherry, we all said.

Mrs Cherry smiled. She really enjoyed giving us hard work. At least she was having a good time, I guess. Nobody else was.

Detective Inspector? Someone whispered behind me. I’ve got a note for you!

When Mrs Cherry wasn’t looking, I quickly turned back and grabbed the note from my classmate’s hand. I slipped it into my skinny, black pencil case. It was my favourite pencil case because when people saw it, they took me very seriously. They used to laugh at my old pencil case. It was sparkly, bright pink and had cute bunny rabbits on it.

Is there a problem, Mya? Mrs Cherry asked, her narrow, brown eyes on me. This is not a group exercise. No talking, please.

We weren’t talking, Miss, I said. I sneezed. He gave me a tissue.

That’s odd, Mrs Cherry said. I didn’t hear you sneeze... She raised her bushy, red eyebrows. Whenever she did that, she had lots of wrinkles on her forehead. I heard she was thirty, but the wrinkles made her look really, really old, like forty or something. Anyway, children, back to work.

Maths was very important, but I had other work to do. The note would tell me what I needed to know, but I couldn’t read it in class. Mrs Cherry was nosy like lots of grown-ups, so she’d want to see what I was reading. Then everyone would know what I was up to...

I needed to read the note somewhere private and quiet, so I could concentrate.

Can I go to the toilet, please? I asked, giving my sad face. I’ve really gotta go!

Mrs Cherry nodded and her bushy eyebrows went down. The wrinkles disappeared.

I put the note in my pocket and walked to the toilet. Walking is so slow but running got me into trouble last time.

Health and Safety, Mr Badal had snapped. You could trip over and fall and hurt yourself. Then your parents will blame the school!

I had to listen to him. He was the meanest Headteacher in the whole world, probably even the whole universe. He was rude to the teachers, students, cleaners, dinner ladies...everyone except our parents.

It took forever walking so slowly to the bathroom, but finally I made it. Usually the toilets were very stinky. Unfortunately, today someone had done a poo! Fortunately, my secret police boss had sprayed some perfume before I got there. Now I could smell poo and flowers.

Flowery poo.

The first toilet door was locked. Someone was in there. I went into the next toilet down and locked the door. I waited a minute or two, just in case someone might be listening. I didn’t hear any voices, so I knew it was safe to talk.

I stomped my foot three times.

The person in the next toilet stomped twice.

Then I stomped once.

What’s the password? the girl next door whispered.

Children’s Police Force, I said.

Good...Now read the note.

I took it out. Here’s what it said:

To Detective Inspector Mya Dove,

The Children’s Police Force needs your help. It’s time for your first big case.

There’s a new girl at school. She’ll be joining your class. Her name is Libby Smith.

On her first day, Libby looked okay. Her mum talked to other mums. Her dad talked to your dad. Her big sister talked to Mrs Cherry.

But...Libby’s mean. She hasn’t said ANYTHING yet, but she’s obviously mean. That’s why she still doesn’t have any friends and she’s been here for ages (two weeks!).

We wanna be fair, so we want you to make sure she’s mean. If she is, we’ll start telling other kids not to be her friend. If she isn’t mean, we’ll stop any rumours about her that we started.

Your reward will be a big bag of grapes.

If you have any questions, just ask.

Now stop reading and get to work!

Regards,

Your Secret Boss

P.S. I said STOP reading and GET TO WORK!!!!!

Why were grapes my reward instead of money, chocolate or sweets? What kid doesn’t want chocolate instead of fruit? Okay, okay, let me explain...

I like chocolate and sweets, but what I really LOVE are grapes. The green ones. I can’t eat too many because they make me poo a lot. Not just any poo. They’re sloppy ones that shoot out. Then I have to clean the toilet AND wash my hands. That’s too much work.

Grapes? I asked. Are they the green ones?

There are no green grapes. You mean white grapes.

No, I snapped. The green ones.

Yeah, they’re WHITE grapes, she snapped back. They look green but they’re white grapes.

Look, boss, I am not Detective Inspector for no reason! Don’t try and trick me! I tried not to cry. Just give me green grapes, okay? I know my colours. I wouldn’t mix up green and white. They’re totally different!

But—

You can’t trick me, okay? I know green grapes when I see them. You know what? Maybe YOU are the meanie, not the new girl!

She dropped a plastic bag and slid it under the toilet stall.

Inside were ten juicy GREEN grapes. So round. So firm. So mine.

They look so tasty, I said. Add another grape and I’ll solve the case.

Done!

She reached under the toilet stall and held out her hand. She wanted to shake hands so we had a deal.

Wash your hands first, I said. If I catch germs, I’ll be sick. I can’t work if I’m sick.

If you get sick, you’ll have a week off school. Think about it. Cartoons, brekkie in bed, and no homework.

She had a point...

I can’t, I said. Just get my extra grape...and please find out who keeps doing a poo in here! It’s smells so bad.

It’s definitely not me... She sprayed more perfume. Excuse me.

So, um...

What, Inspector? Spit it out!

Are you gonna tell me who you are?

Definitely not.

I didn’t bother arguing. I’d tried that already. This girl was my boss, but she wouldn’t tell me who she was. We only met in the bathroom and she never showed her face. As long as she gave me cases to solve, I didn’t mind not meeting her face-to-face.

Could I meet the Children’s Police Force, please? I asked.

You know better than to ask that! she snapped.

But it was worth a try!

The Children’s Police Force included millions of kids worldwide. They had officers in Europe, North America, South America, Africa, Asia, Australia, the North Pole and the South Pole.

I was part of the Children’s Police Force in London, England. They sent me a secret note in class, inviting me to join. They chose me because I’d been finding my own cases and solving every one!

If I helped the Children’s Police Force, I might be invited to the real police someday! Then I could solve even bigger cases.

Detective Inspector Mya Dove, are you daydreaming again?

Yes...I mean, no!

Good, she snapped. Now get back to class!

After saying goodbye to my grapes, I returned to class. Mrs Cherry raised an eyebrow because I’d taken so long in the toilets, but she said nothing.

I finished my Maths work as fast as I could. If you finish early, you get to sit around and wait for everyone else. Instead of staring out the window like other kids, I took out my notepad and pencil and started writing.

Libby Smith, I wrote. New girl. Is she mean? Maybe...Maybe not.

This was going to be tough. I hadn’t had a case in a long time (three whole weeks) so I needed some practice. I needed some help too.

And I knew just who to ask...

Chapter 2

One time my secret boss told me there were other Children’s Police Force officers at school. I could always get help if I needed it. My boss couldn’t just give out the officers’ names. You never know who might be listening in the toilets!

Could you give me a clue? I asked. Just tell me where to find one Children’s Police Force officer, please. I might need some help with a case!

If you ever need help, check the football pitch, she said. There’s a Children’s Police Force officer there. You’ll know him when you see him...

That was easier said than done. In the playground, there were thirty boys playing football (some people call football soccer). I stayed off the pitch and looked for the secret police officer, but couldn’t see him. It’s hard to find someone when you don’t know who you’re looking for!

Was the secret police officer the black boy keeping score? That would be a great way to stay undercover. He could look out for any bad guys on both teams.

Or was the secret police officer the goalie? Football is boring when no one scores! But if no one scored, the goalie would have lots of time to pick out bad guys.

Or was the secret police officer the spotty-faced, white boy who kept slowing down when he passed me? He ran to the water fountain and drank for a VERY long time. He stared at me. And stared. And stared. Then he winked at me three times.

Nah, I thought. Not him.

Over here! he shouted, waving me over. Yeah, you! Come here!

What do you want? I asked, staying where I was.

You needed help with something?

He winked.

I walked over to him.

He said, We’re in the same class, cool! I’m Jimmy! What’s your—

Great game! I shouted. Any good tips?

...What’re you doing?

Act natural, I whispered. Bad guys might be watching.

You’re right, sorry!

Any tips about the mean girl case? I whispered.

Not here, he whispered. The bad guys might hear us. Follow me.

He pulled me behind the football net and held out his sweaty hand.

Pay up, he said.

But—

Pay up!

Adult police officers don’t pay each other for information, but at my school we did. It’d always been like that. I decided that when I got to Year Six, I’d change the rules. Then the Children’s Police Force would help each other for free.

I gave Jimmy five pence.

Ten, he said, or I’m not telling you anything!

When I was younger, police tips only cost two pence. The price had gone up a lot in four years.

I gave him another five pence and he held it close to his eye. Then he bit it hard and his baby tooth popped out.

It’s real money, he said, popping his tooth back in. Can’t be too sure these days. Last week a kid gave me chocolate money.

He put the money in his trainer.

Who’s your suspect? he asked.

Libby Smith.

Libby Sam Smith or Libby Charlie Smith or—

I don’t know! Why’d you think I paid you? I need info!

Okay, fine. I’ll ask some questions. Then I can figure out which Libby you’re talking about. Got it?

I nodded.

First off, what’s your name?

Detective Inspector Mya Dove.

I remember you from class, he said. Anyway, when did Libby Smith get here?

Two weeks ago.

So she’s a new girl... He pulled out a tiny notebook from his t-shirt pocket and looked down a list of names. Is she on probation?

...What’s does probation mean?

Never mind, he said. Is she black, white or Asian or another race?

White like you, I think. Or black like me. Or Asian or biracial or...don’t know.

Okay...Is she tall or short?

Tall, maybe. Short, maybe. Maybe in the middle somewhere. I shrugged. I don’t know that one either. Sorry.

He closed the notebook, giving me an angry look. I was feeling a bit angry too. Why didn’t my secret boss give me more info? How could I find Libby Smith when I didn’t know what she looked like?

Is Libby even a girl? he asked. Do you know that one?

No. I don’t.

He walked off in a huff, so I ran after him and pulled him back.

I was just joking, I said. Of course Libby’s a girl!

I take my job very seriously. He glared at me. You should too.

Ouch! That hurt a little...

Wait a minute, I said. My boss said she’s moving to our class?

Why didn’t you say so before? he cried. I know which Libby Smith you’re talking about. She’s been studying in Mr Badal’s office since her first day. Nobody knows why...

He took my hand and led me down the playground. People were staring, but I didn’t care. His hand felt so soft. I liked holding it.

We’re gonna walk past her, he said. Act natural.

Walk past who?

Libby Smith.

This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. I was about to meet Libby Smith, the suspect in my case.

This will be easy, I said. I’ve met lots of mean girls before.

All I had to do was prove Libby was mean. I thought it would be easy, but I was very wrong.

Libby isn’t like other mean girls, Jimmy said. "She’s different."

What do you mean? I asked.

You’ll see...

Chapter 3

I was very excited. I was about to meet Libby Smith for the first time. Even better, I got to hold Jimmy’s warm hand while we walked together, pretending to chat. Sometimes police officers have to pretend so bad guys don’t know what we’re up to.

There was a black girl straight ahead, her eyes on us. Then she looked away and stared at the ground when we went past.

Then Jimmy let go.

You saw her? he asked.

Yeah... My hand felt cold without his.

If you need help again, let me know. I charge from ten pence up to a pound.

A whole pound? What a rip off!

A pound? For what?

Anything that could get me into really, really serious trouble, he said. Remember when Mr Badal got locked out of his office? Remember the toy mouse in Mrs Cherry’s desk drawer? Remember when the exams almost got cancelled?

Wow...Thanks to you I had extra time to study!

Just give me a sign, okay? I’m always about.

He ran back to the football pitch.

I sat on the bench nearest to Libby and pretended to read my notepad. Actually I was keeping an eye on her.

Libby’s hair was afro like mine but she’d straightened it.  She didn’t have any pretty hairbands like Angel, the meanest girl in school, but she did have a lovely yellow dress.

It was a very pretty dress, but why wear it to school? Maybe because Libby had lots of money? Angel was rich and mean, so maybe Libby was rich and mean too.

Libby didn’t have anything to play with. No balls. No hula hoops. No skipping rope. All she did was stand in the middle of the playground. Whenever someone smiled at her, she looked away.

Why didn’t she smile back?

All breaktime she stayed alone. If anyone got too close, she quickly moved away. I tried to catch her eye but she pretended not to see me, so I decided to go right up to her.

But the bell rang.

Time to go back inside.

Libby sighed with relief. She joined the line back to class, keeping her eyes to the ground.

Why was she staying by herself all the time? Maybe because she didn’t like us?

It was easy to stay alone at breaktime, but soon she’d have no choice but to talk to someone. Our next lesson was P.E. (P.E. is Physical Education class, remember?). Teamwork was an important part of P.E. class.

I’m gonna talk to her, I told myself.

Ten minutes later, we were in the hall. It was the same hall we used for lunch, so sometimes the floor was a bit messy. We didn’t mind, though. P.E. was a great time to have some fun.

It was also a great time to solve top secret cases. Why? Because playtime and P.E. were the only times we could do whatever we liked!

Anyway, it was time to choose P.E. teams. Everyone wanted me on their team because I always keep fit. The police have to keep fit so we can chase bad guys.

Mya, over here!

Join our team, Mya!

No! Come here!

DON’T come over here, Mya! That was Angel. She was mean to everyone but the teachers. She was always very nice to them. Probably because kids who are mean to teachers get detention.

Everyone looked very disappointed when I turned them down. I didn’t want to, but I had to. Today I was only pairing up with one person: Libby Smith.

I found her at the back of the hall. She was shooting a basketball and making every shot. I was really impressed by her dribbling skills. If she’d talk to people, she could play on any team she liked.

But as soon as she noticed me watching, she started missing shots. One shot bounced off the rim. Another one smacked the backboard. Then the ball flew past the net.

Maybe she’s pretending to be bad so I won’t play with her, I thought. That’s something a mean person would do, right?

When I got closer, she picked up a skipping rope and just stood with it. I rushed to the other end and picked it up. I tried turning it, but she wouldn’t do it with me. She just stood there, her hands shaking like she felt chilly.

We stood in silence for a minute or two. I looked at her. She looked down at her shoes. I waited a few seconds, but she wouldn’t look up. I had to say something before the lesson was over.

Hello, Libby, I said. I’m Mya. You’re in our class now. Maybe we can be friends?

I thought she’d say hello back. Instead, something very strange happened...

Chapter 4

Libby Smith kept looking at her shoes.

"Um, HELLO, I said. My name is Mya. What’s yours?"

She mumbled something and turned away, dropping the rope.

How rude!

We can play together if you just talk to me, I said. Can’t you say hello?

She rushed away to Mrs Cherry. I followed her over but then Mrs Cherry took her into the corridor and closed the door behind them.

I pressed my ear against the door, but it was hard hearing Mrs Cherry and Libby talk over my noisy class. I stuck my finger in my other ear and managed to hear Libby crying.

Are you seriously falling for that? Angel asked, appearing from nowhere. I turned to face her.

Am I falling for what? I asked. What are you talking about?

She’s faking it, Angel snapped. Crybabies cry when they don’t get what they want.

Maybe she’s really upset?

She’s a really mean girl, Angel said. Trust me. I can feel it in my curls.

You mean you can feel it in your BONES, not your curls.

Whatever!

If Angel said Libby was bad, Libby was REALLY bad. Until Libby came, Angel was the meanest person in the whole school. That’s why I didn’t want to be Angel’s friend.

Police officers aren’t friends with bad guys or girls like Angel. If the Children’s Police Force thought I was friends with her, they’d never give me another case!

Mya, are you listening to me? Angel snapped, tapping her foot.

She wasn’t just mean but annoying too. The boys at school didn’t like her. The girls didn’t like her either. All because she was so mean, but she thought we were just jealous.

Everyone’s jealous because I’m so pretty and have so much money, she’d say. I am so lucky! And so pretty! I’m pretty lucky!

Angel had big, curly blonde hair and bright pink cheeks. People said she looked so sweet, even though she wasn’t sweet at all. Her mum got her the prettiest dresses because they had lots of money.

You’re not listening to me, are you? Angel spat. You’re jealous too! You wish you looked like me.

No, I didn’t.

Angel looked nothing like me.

I’m black with really long, coily afro hair. When my mum blow-dried my hair, it ended up fluffy like candy floss. I loved it! Unlike Angel’s white skin, my dark brown skin never changed colour.

Mya, I’m talking to you! Angel cried. Answer me!

Angel and I wore different clothes too. She wore fluffy pink dresses and shiny pink shoes and sparkly pink hairbands. I liked plain white shirts, dark trousers and black shoes. Being smartly dressed is what good police officers do.

Are you listening to me? Angel snapped. MYA! HELLO!

I’m listening...

Anyway, I just said that Libby never says good morning or goodbye. She doesn’t answer the register either. She doesn’t answer questions in class.

Nobody HAD to answer questions in class, but usually Mrs Cherry would ask everyone at least one question.

Teachers are supposed to introduce the new student to class, Angel said. Mrs Cherry didn’t tell us about Libby. She just showed up and most of you didn’t even notice! Probably because she doesn’t speak...

Can she talk? I asked. Some people can’t.

She talks but I don’t know what she’s saying. She mumbles...You know what? I bet she’s talking about me! Angel flicked her curls. All you jealous girls are talking about me!

I rolled my eyes and walked away from her. I didn’t speak to her unless I absolutely had to because she was SO annoying!

But she had been helpful. Based on what she’d told me, Libby stayed alone and didn’t talk to anyone because she was mean. That meant my case had been solved. I’d proven Libby was mean, so I’d get rewarded with juicy GREEN grapes!

Jimmy came over with the basketball and we started playing. I was good at shooting, but he was even better.

How’d it go? he asked.

I think Libby is crying.

That sucks. Is she okay?

Of course. Mrs Cherry is with her. I tried to grab the basketball but Jimmy dribbled it away from me. Libby doesn’t talk or play with anyone else. That’s a mean thing to do.

Jimmy took a shot and got three points. Out of breath, we both sat down on the bench for a break.

I kept an eye on the door, waiting for Libby to come back in.

A minute later, Mrs Cherry rushed back into the hall and blew her whistle. We all gathered around her.

Class, I have to pop out for a few minutes. I will be in Mr Badal’s office. She looked each one of us in the eye. Behave yourselves. I do not want any trouble, understood?

Yes, Miss, we all said.

Mrs Cherry hurried back out. The door slowly closed behind her. I could see Libby sitting on the floor with her head in her hands.

Suddenly I felt a bit...guilty.

You see that? Jimmy asked me. Libby is still crying. It must be pretty bad.

Mean girls fake cry, I said. Angel does it too.

They don’t fake cry when no one’s looking. They only do it for attention. You can’t get attention when no one else is there.

He was right.

Jimmy started bouncing the basketball and took another shot. Another three points scored. I was way behind now.

I expected him to run over and grab the basketball, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to me with a sad look on his face.

Mya, are you sure she’s mean?

Yep. My girl secret boss said so.

My boy secret boss said so too, but what do YOU think?

I hadn’t really sat down and thought about it much. It was my job to help the Children’s Police Force. That meant solving my case and getting my grapes. Simple as that.

I dunno, I said. I just want my grapes.

Mya, being a good police officer means being a good person. Don’t forget that.

What was that supposed to mean?

Before I could ask, he ran off to play handball with some boys.

Fine, then, I said to myself. I’m going to ask Libby if she’s mean. When she says yes, I’ll tell my secret boss the case is closed. Soon I’ll be eating those juicy grapes. I might share one or two...

Mya, come play with us! a friend cried.

I glanced at the door. Mrs Cherry and Libby should’ve