Nanny Piggins and the Accidental Blast-off (10 page)

But at that very moment a constable burst into the police station brandishing a tape. ‘We’ve got the surveillance footage!’

‘Oh dear,’ said Boris.

Samantha started to hyperventilate.

‘What’s he talking about?’ demanded Nanny Piggins. ‘A surveillance tape of what?’

‘Let’s see,’ said the Police Sergeant, putting the tape in the VCR. A grainy black and white picture of the front of the museum appeared on the screen.

‘There’s father!’ exclaimed Michael, pointing at the picture. They could see Mr Green out the front of the museum. He was on his hands and knees,
with his sleeves rolled up, trying to fish change out of the museum’s fountain.

‘Tsk tsk tsk,’ said the Police Sergeant, shaking his head. ‘Constable, make a note. This afternoon we must find time to arrest Mr Green for attempting to steal small change from a charity again.’

They all turned their attention back to the screen, which was a good thing because it suddenly exploded into action. The front door of the museum burst open. The alarm siren started sounding. Mr Green was so startled he flinched forward and fell into the fountain. And an incredibly glamorous pig, with a neat little bob haircut and a black beanie jauntily perched on top of her head – ran down the front steps of the museum.

Everyone turned and looked at Nanny Piggins.

‘All right, so she looks a little like me,’ conceded Nanny Piggins, ‘but you can’t prove she took the diamond.’

Unfortunately, Nanny Piggins was immediately contradicted by the video evidence when the pig on screen paused at the bottom of the museum steps, opened her handbag, took out an enormous diamond the size of a coffee cup, looked at it, put it back in the bag, and then ran off down the street.

The children did not know what to say. They
wanted to exclaim, ‘That was you!’ but they did not want their words to be taken down and used as evidence against their nanny.

‘How do you explain that then, Nanny Piggins?’ asked the Police Sergeant. ‘You say you were in your neighbour’s attic. And yet there you are running out of the museum holding the Giant Mumbai Diamond.’

‘Serg!’ called another young constable, running over with a sheet of paper. ‘The lab has just faxed through the results of the trotter-print analysis.’

The Police Sergeant took the fax and read it. ‘I’m afraid the prints at the scene are an exact match to yours, Nanny Piggins.’

‘Please say it wasn’t you,’ pleaded Samantha.

‘Or it was you, but you had to do it because you were being blackmailed by someone really wicked,’ pleaded Michael.

Nanny Piggins was still glaring at the frozen image of herself on the screen. ‘There is a third option. It just so happens that I do know of a pig who both looks exactly like me and is a master thief.’

‘You do?’ said the Police Sergeant.

‘Yes, my identical twin sister – Anthea Piggins!’ declared Nanny Piggins.

Everyone gasped.

‘Of course,’ said Derrick. ‘One of your identical fourteenuplet sisters!’

‘It is sad that so many of your identical twin sisters don’t share your strong sense of morality and public duty,’ said Boris, shaking his head.

‘I know,’ agreed Nanny Piggins, ‘but mother was not big on morality. Except when it came to food. She had very strict principles about that.’

‘So you’re saying that even though the pig in the surveillance footage looks exactly like you, acts exactly like you and has your exact same trotter print – that it isn’t you?’ asked the Police Sergeant.

‘Exactly,’ confirmed Nanny Piggins.

‘And you expect me to believe that?’ enquired the Police Sergeant.

‘Well, I had assumed,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘that you would be too much of a gentleman to call a lady a liar.’

‘All right, then assuming I believe in this criminal doppelganger, how do you intend to prove it?’ asked the Police Sergeant.

‘By catching her, of course,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘I don’t think I can get three divisions’ worth of squad cars and the sniper unit back today to track down another Piggins,’ said the Police Sergeant.

‘Oh, there’s no need for that,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I know exactly where to find her. And if you take me along I will use my superior athletic skills to arrest her myself.’

‘You’re going to bite her on the leg, aren’t you?’ said Michael.

‘Of course I am,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Coming to my home town and framing me for grand theft is inexcusable. My sisters can be very rude sometimes.’

‘Surely if she has the skills of a master thief,’ said the Police Sergeant, ‘she would have the sense to stay hidden for a while.’

‘You would think so,’ agreed Nanny Piggins, ‘but my sister Anthea has one great weakness.’

‘Kryptonite?’ guessed Michael.

‘Silver bullets?’ guessed Derrick.

‘She can’t read?’ guessed Samantha.

‘No,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Her great weakness is her overwhelming devotion to apricot danishes!’

‘We’re going to catch her because she likes apricot danishes?’ asked the Police Sergeant sceptically.

‘No, we’re going to catch her because she
loves
apricot danishes,’ corrected Nanny Piggins. ‘She thinks about them, she dreams about them and,
most importantly, she is physically unable to stay away from them.’

‘I still don’t see how that’s going to help us,’ said the Police Sergeant.

‘It’s easy,’ explained Nanny Piggins. ‘We will find Anthea wherever you can find the very finest apricot danish.’

‘Hans’ Bakery!’ exclaimed the children. (All his baked products were good, but his apricot danish had just won the ‘Danish by a non-Danish resident’ category at the International Pastry Slamdown earlier that month.)

‘Exactly!’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘If I know my sister, she’ll be at the bakery scoffing an apricot danish as we speak.’

‘Constable, get the squad car,’ ordered the Police Sergeant as he leapt into action. ‘We’ve got a lady pig to arrest! Another one!’

A short time later, the squad car pulled up outside Hans’ Bakery with the Police Sergeant, the Police Constable, Nanny Piggins and the children all squashed inside. (Boris jogged along behind, because the Police Sergeant did not have a
sunroof, and he would not agree to letting Boris give him one by ripping a hole in the top of his car with his bare hands.) When they peered in through Hans’ shop window they could see a customer sitting at a table, eating a huge stack of danishes.

‘That’s her!’ declared Nanny Piggins.

‘It can’t be,’ protested Boris. ‘She’s a he. Look at that big bushy moustache.’

‘I know that person looks nothing like me now,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘but I suspect, from the natty little designer dress and perfectly coiffured bob, that he may actually be a she. And that the moustache may be a disguise.’

‘No!’ gasped Boris.

‘You Pigginses are very good at transforming yourselves,’ said Derrick.

‘It is a skill you have to learn,’ admitted Nanny Piggins, ‘when you’ve been banned from as many all-you-can-eat restaurants as we have.’

‘Now you’ve pointed it out, it is obvious she is a Piggins,’ admitted the Police Sergeant. ‘Just look at the way she eats those danishes.’

They watched Anthea Piggins. She was happily waggling her crossed trotters as she munched her way through six danishes at a time.

‘Doesn’t she ever mix it up with a cake or a meringue?’ asked Michael.

‘No,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘It all goes back to when she was a baby and mother accidentally dropped her in a vat of apricot jam. Mother didn’t notice what she had done, so Anthea had to eat her way out. She’s had a passion for apricots ever since.’

‘Okay, so how do you want to handle this arrest?’ asked the Police Sergeant. ‘I’ve got some tear gas in my car.’

‘Good to know,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘but I suppose I had better say hello before you start gassing her and I start biting her leg – she is my sister after all.’

Nanny Piggins started walking towards the shop door, but then turned and gave one more piece of advice. ‘You can all come with me, but stand well back. Anthea is a master pickpocket. I suggest you keep a firm grip on your personal possessions.’

When they entered the bakery Anthea did not even notice they were there, her attention was so fully absorbed in the danishes before her.

‘Hans,’ said Nanny Piggins to her favourite baker as he stood behind the counter, nervous to be in the same shop as two police officers and an exact clone of his most intimidating customer. ‘This is my sister,
Anthea.’ Nanny Piggins pointed to her moustache-wearing identical twin. ‘I want you to cut her off. No more danishes for her.’

Anthea’s head snapped up. ‘What–what–what?!’ she exclaimed.

‘But she’s a good customer,’ protested Hans. ‘She’s had nine dozen danishes in the last half hour.’

Nanny Piggins glared at Hans. ‘Who is the better customer?’ she asked.

‘You are, Nanny Piggins, you are,’ admitted Hans humbly, looking down at his shoes. He knew he should be grateful for the day Nanny Piggins moved into his neighbourhood and single-handedly quadrupled the turnover of his business.

‘Sarah?!’ exclaimed Anthea. ‘Why would you cut me off? What have I ever done to you?’

‘Impersonate me and steal a rare and famous jewel worth squillions and squillions of dollars,’ answered Nanny Piggins.

‘Oh yes, that,’ said Anthea, taking off her fake moustache.

Everyone gasped. It was shocking how exactly she looked like Nanny Piggins. If it were not for the fact that Anthea was a blonde, whereas Nanny Piggins was a brunette, you would never be able to tell them apart.

‘I’ll admit that was a little naughty,’ conceded Anthea, ‘but I never expected it to get so out of hand.’

‘Miss Piggins,’ said the Police Sergeant, taking a step towards Anthea.

‘You shouldn’t have done that, Police Sergeant,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Anthea, give the sergeant his wallet back.’

‘Sorry,’ said Anthea, taking the Police Sergeant’s wallet out from under a danish and handing it to Nanny Piggins. ‘It’s a reflex. I can’t help myself.’

‘How did you do that?’ asked the baffled Police Sergeant. ‘I didn’t see you move.’

‘She took it out of your pocket when you glanced at the coffee cream scroll,’ explained Nanny Piggins. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure Hans will sell you one before we leave. But try not to glance at it again unless you want my sister to get the packet of jelly babies in your left breast pocket.’

‘Okay,’ said the Police Sergeant. ‘Anthea Piggins, I am arresting you for grand theft. You’d better hand over the Giant Mumbai Diamond now.’

‘I can’t give it to you,’ said Anthea.

‘Because you’ve sold it already and that’s how you can afford all these danishes?’ guessed Nanny Piggins.

‘No, I bought all these danishes with cash I found in Hans’ back pocket,’ said Anthea.

‘Hey!’ said Hans, clutching his bottom and realising she was right.

‘Then where’s the diamond?’ demanded the Police Sergeant.

‘I gave it back,’ said Anthea.

‘To the citizens of Mumbai, because you wanted to make a political statement about the oppressive nature of colonial rule?’ guessed Derrick. (He had been studying the effects of colonialism on the sub-continent in history.)

‘No,’ said Anthea. ‘I gave it back to the man who runs the museum because that’s what I was paid to do. You see, I’m a security expert now. It’s what I do for a living. I test security systems to find their faults. In this instance I found if you lubricated the museum’s alarm with apricot jam, the security shutters wouldn’t have enough traction to close, and I’d be able to make it out of the building. But afterwards I took the diamond straight around to the curator’s office and gave it to him. That was the job.’

‘But he didn’t say anything about that in his police statement,’ protested the Police Sergeant.

‘I know,’ agreed Anthea, shoving another three
danishes in her mouth. ‘I’m beginning to suspect that he might be a bad man.’

‘There’s no doubt about that,’ agreed Nanny Piggins. ‘Why else would he run a museum? Nasty, boring, dusty smelling places, whose sole purpose seems to be boring poor unfortunate children into a stupor.’

‘Let’s go and talk to him,’ said the Police Sergeant.

And so they all crammed into the now even squashier squad car and drove down to the Natural History Museum. Thanks to the Police Sergeant’s practised ability at bullying secretaries, they were soon ushered into the curator’s office. It was a large room, lined with bookcases full of leather-bound volumes and glass display cases showing specimens from the museum’s collection. The curator got up from his desk to meet them.