Authors: Alan MacDonald
Cupcake Wars! (5 page)
Later Maisie and Laura arrived.
“What shall we do?” sighed Maisie, flopping on to the bed. “We can’t go to the park in the rain.”
“I know,” said Angela. “We can do Neighbourhood Watching.”
Maisie looked blank. “What’s that?” she asked.
“It’s like a club. You watch your neighbours to see if they’re up to something,” explained Angela.
“Isn’t that spying?” asked Laura, doubtfully.
“No,” said Angela. “Loads of grown-ups do it. You have to watch for anything suspicious – like robbing a bank or burglaring.”
Maisie shrugged her shoulders. “There aren’t any banks here,” she said. “And anyway, who would we watch?”
“Mr Monk,” said Angela, pointing to the house opposite.
“Not Mr Monk! He’s
grouchy
!” moaned Laura.
Mr Monk had told them off many times – once for walking on his wall, and another time because he claimed
their screaming and giggling was giving him a headache.
“Anyway, why HIM?” asked Maisie.
“Think about it,” said Angela. “He never has any visitors. Why does he want everyone to keep away?”
“Because he’s an old grump bag,” said Maisie.
“Or because he’s up to something,” said Angela. “Anyway, do you want to be in the club or not?”
Laura and Maisie nodded. There was nothing better to do. Angela had borrowed her dad’s binoculars so they could take turns keeping watch. As it was her idea, she went first.
It was amazing – with the binoculars she could see right into Mr Monk’s house!
“What if he sees us looking?” whispered Laura.
“He won’t,” said Angela. “Not if we keep out of sight.”
They kneeled down and peeped above the windowsill. Maisie was in charge of the notebook where they kept a record of everything Mr Monk did.
Maisie put down her pencil and sighed heavily.
“This is
boring
,” she grumbled. “He’s not doing anything!”
“We can’t give up or we’ll miss something,” said Angela.
“We’ve been watching for an hour,” moaned Laura. “And all he’s done is eat a biscuit.”
Angela sighed. Neighbourhood Watching wasn’t as exciting as she’d hoped. All the same, she was sure that Mr Monk couldn’t be trusted. She stared through the binoculars. Mr Monk was in the kitchen, doing something at the sink. But he had changed his clothes. Now he was wearing a black jumper and trousers with a black balaclava over his head.
Angela’s mum had said to look for anything out of the ordinary and this certainly was.
Suddenly Angela guessed the truth. “He’s a BURGLAR!” she gasped.
“Who is?” asked Maisie.
“Mr Monk! Look!” said Angela. “He’s dressed in black, just like a burglar!”
In films, spies and burglars were always dressed in black. It was so they couldn’t be seen in the dark.
Maisie grabbed the binoculars. “Maybe he’s wearing the hat to keep his ears warm,” she suggested.
“Anyway, he wouldn’t steal from his own house,” Laura argued.
“Don’t you get it?” asked Angela. “He went out and now he’s back. I bet he’s been breaking into someone’s house!”
Maisie and Laura looked at each other. This was just like Angela – she was so dramatic!
“What about Mrs Monk?” said Maisie. “She’d know if he was up to something.”
“But she’s not there,” said Angela. “We haven’t seen her. I bet he waits till she’s gone away and that’s when he does it.”
“Come on, Angela!” sighed Laura. “You don’t have any proof!”
Angela raised her eyebrows. “Not yet,” she said. “But I bet we can find some.”
For the next hour Angela watched the house like a hawk. Finally Mr Monk came out of the front door. He was still wearing the black top and trousers, but the balaclava was gone. Angela guessed that would have given him away. Burglars had to be careful.
“Quick!” she cried. “Now’s our chance!”
“Angela!” cried Laura, but Angela was already rushing downstairs. By the time they caught up with her, she was outside Mr Monk’s house.
“Oh, hi, Mr Monk!” she called out.
Mr Monk looked round. “Oh. What do you want?” he said, scowling.
Angela smiled. “How are you today?”
“I’m busy,” snapped Mr Monk, unlocking his car.
“And how’s
Mrs Monk
?”
“She’s not here,” sighed Mr Monk.
“Oh, not here!” repeated Angela. “But I expect you’ve got lots to do, haven’t you? I bet you’ve been busy?”
Mr Monk looked at her as if she was raving mad. “What business is it of yours?” he growled. “Go and bother someone else!”
He got into his car, slammed the door and drove off.
“See?” Angela said to her friends. “He got really cross when I asked what he was doing.”
Laura thought that Mr Monk seemed cross all the time. “Anyway, there’s
nothing we can do,” she said.
“We can look for evidence,” said Angela. “I bet he’s got things hidden away – diamonds, jewels, stuff that he took.”
“We shouldn’t even be here!” moaned Laura. “Let’s go before he comes back.”
But Angela was wondering where Mr Monk would hide his loot. At the back of the house was a garage. She walked down the drive.
“Angela!” said Maisie. “You can’t just go nosing round their house!”
“We’re not
in
the house,” said Angela. “And we’re only looking. Come on!”
Laura and Maisie looked at each other in despair. They were mad to listen to Angela, it always ended in trouble – but they couldn’t just walk off and leave her.
They found her poking around inside the garage. There were bikes, boxes, tools and a smell of oil and paint.
“Look at this!” gasped Angela. She reached into a box and pulled out a pair of silver candlesticks.
“STOLEN!” hissed Angela. “What did I tell you? These are worth millions!”
Laura stared. Maybe Angela was right? Now she really wanted to go back.
“There has to be more,” said Angela. “Where’s he hidden it all?”
“Let’s go!” pleaded Laura.
But Angela wasn’t listening. She’d caught sight of something through the garage window. Across the lawn was a freshly dug bed of earth.
Why would Mr Monk be digging?
thought Angela. Unless he had something he wanted to hide?