LITMIR.BIZ

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it?’

      Charlie thought of Runner Bean, and then of Benjamin. ‘Does it do anything?’ he asked. Because inventions usually did something.

      ‘Of course. Let me see.’ She pulled down the dog’s tail. It barked twice, and a voice said, ‘I am number two. You have already pulled my tail, so you know how to make me play. To fast forward press my left ear. To rewind press my right ear. To record press my nose. To stop pull my right foot up. To replace tapes open my stomach.’ The voice that gave these instructions was familiar to Charlie.

      ‘Any use to you?’ asked Miss Ingledew. ‘Or would you like to see the others?’

      ‘It’s perfect,’ said Charlie. ‘Brilliant. But the voice, is it your . . .?’

      ‘Yes. My brother-in-law, Dr Tolly. It was one of his earliest, but he never bothered to sell it. Once a thing was made, that was it. He was a lazy man, Charlie. Clever, but lazy.’

      ‘It’s him in the photo, isn’t it?’ Charlie didn’t mention that he’d recognised the voice. How could he?

      ‘Yes, that’s Dr Tolly. He did something terrible once.’ Miss Ingledew’s mouth closed in a grim line.

      ‘Why did you want his photo, then?’ asked Charlie.

      The bookseller darted him a quick look, as if she were sizing him up. ‘It’s the baby I want,’ she said at last. ‘It’s all I have to remember her by.’ And suddenly Miss Ingledew was telling Charlie about the dreadful day when her sister Nancy died, just before her daughter’s second birthday, and how a few days later, Nancy’s husband, Dr Tolly, had given his daughter away.

      ‘I didn’t think you could give children away,’ said Charlie, horrified.

      ‘You can’t,’ said Miss Ingledew. ‘I was sworn to secrecy. I should have taken her, you see. But I was selfish and irresponsible. I didn’t think I could cope. Not one day has passed, since then, when I haven’t regretted my decision. I tried to find out who she’d been given to, where she had gone, but Dr Tolly would never tell me. She was lost in a system of lies and tricks and forgery. She’d be ten years old now, and I’d give anything to get her back.’

      Charlie felt very uncomfortable. He was being drawn into a situation he didn’t much like. If only he hadn’t heard the voices in the photograph. How could he possibly tell Miss Ingledew that three cats thought the lost baby was in Bloor’s Academy. She would never believe him.

      In a shadowy corner, a grandfather clock struck twelve and Charlie said, ‘I think I’d better go home now. Mum’ll be worried.’

      ‘Of course. But take the dog, Charlie, and –’ she suddenly darted to the table and withdrew a long silver case from the bottom of a pile, ‘will you take this one as well?’

      She didn’t wait for an answer, but plunged it into a bag marked INGLEDEW’S BOOKS. Handing the bag to Charlie, she said, ‘You can pop the dog in as well, there’s just enough room.’

      The bag was unbelievably heavy. Charlie carefully placed the dog, in its box, on top of the metal case. Then he trundled to the door, wondering how on earth he would manage to heave the bag all the way home.

      Julia Ingledew helped him up the step and opened the shop door, which gave another melodious ring.

      ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking,’ said Charlie, ‘but what’s in the case?’

      The answer was rather surprising. ‘I don’t know,’ said Miss Ingledew. ‘And I’m not sure I want to. Dr Tolly exchanged it for his baby. Whatever it is, it can’t be worth as much as a baby, can it?’

      ‘N-no,’ said Charlie. He put the bag on the ground.

      ‘Please take it, Charlie. You look just the right person. I’ve got to get it out of the house, you see.’ She lowered her voice and darted a quick look down the street. ‘And can I ask you to keep it a secret, for now?’

      ‘That’s a bit difficult,’ said Charlie, even more reluctant to take the strange case. ‘Can’t I even tell my best friend?’

      ‘Tell no one who you wouldn’t trust with your life,’ said Miss Ingledew.

The inventor’s case

      Before Charlie could think of anything to say, the bookseller gave him a brief wave and then closed her door. He was alone in the shadowy street with something that had been exchanged for a baby.

      Why hadn’t Miss Ingledew opened the case? What could be inside? Charlie began to talk to himself as he struggled over the cobbles and several people glanced at him suspiciously. Perhaps they thought he had stolen the bag. He turned a sharp corner and nearly fell over a big, shaggy dog.

      ‘Look out!’ cried Charlie, dropping the bag. ‘Runner Bean, it’s you!’

      Runner Bean jumped on the bag and licked Charlie’s face.

      ‘Get off!’ said Charlie. ‘That’s valuable.’

      Benjamin came hurrying up to them. ‘Sorry,’ he panted. ‘I couldn’t stop him.’

      ‘Were you following me?’ asked Charlie, who was quite pleased to see Benjamin.

      ‘Not really. I was just taking Runner for a walk. I think he must have got your scent.’ Benjamin stared at the impressive black bag. ‘What’s in there?’

      ‘Your birthday present,’ said Charlie, ‘but you’ll have to help me carry the bag. It weights a ton.’

      ‘Wow. What? No I mustn’t ask,’ said Benjamin shyly.

      Charlie had to confess that there was a mysterious something else in the bag, but after a quick peek, Benjamin said he didn’t mind at all that he was going to get the small cardboard box, instead of the large metal case.

      ‘It’s a funny place to come for a present,’ Benjamin remarked, with a backward glance at the looming cathedral.

      ‘I didn’t know I would find one,’ said Charlie. ‘I came here to look for Runner Bean’s photo.’ He told Benjamin about the strange lady bookseller, and the mysterious case the lazy inventor had sent her.

      Taking a handle each, the boys began to carry the black bag home. They didn’t notice that they were being followed. If they had looked behind them, they might have seen that a weasly red-haired boy, badly disguised as an old man, was hiding in doorways and then creeping up on them.

      Runner Bean growled softly and nudged the bag, trying to hurry the boys. It was very troubling to the dog. There was something behind him, and something in the bag, that wasn’t right.

      As Charlie and Benjamin turned into Filbert Street, Runner Bean whirled round and ran towards the stalker, barking furiously. The red-haired boy jumped away from him and fled up the street.

      ‘What was that all about?’ said Benjamin as the dog came bounding back.

      Runner Bean couldn’t explain.

      When they reached Benjamin’s house, Charlie asked his friend if he would take the bag inside with him. He didn’t want Maisie or Grandma Bone poking their noses into it.

      Benjamin looked dubious. ‘I don’t know. Where will I put it?’

      ‘Under the bed or something. Please, Benjamin. My grandmas are always in my room, but no one seems to hassle you.’

      ‘OK,’ he said.

      ‘Don’t open your present until I come back,’ he told Benjamin. ‘I’d better go home now, or there’ll be trouble.’

      Charlie was about to turn away when he heard a hollow knocking from inside the bag. Benjamin looked up, rather scared, but Charlie pretended he hadn’t heard and ran down the steps. He walked into the kitchen where his two grandmothers were arguing fiercely. When Charlie appeared they glared at him.

      ‘Charlie

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