What do you do when a contest turns into a murder mystery?
Read an exclusive excerpt from Carlsons upcoming middle grade novel below.The Worlds Greatest Detectivehits bookstores May 16.Preorder it here.
This time it had tracked him down more quickly than ever.
Credit: HarperCollins
Currently, the troubles name was Mrs. Arthur-Abbot.
She sat across from Toby in the one good chair Uncle Gabriel reserved for clients.
Im sorry, maam, he said to Mrs. Arthur-Abbot.
I dont understand what youre asking me to do.
Mrs. Arthur-Abbot picked up the cup of tea Toby had brought her.
She frowned at it.
Then she frowned at the damp ring it had left on the dusty tabletop.
I want you, Mrs. Arthur-Abbot repeated, to tell me why I have paid you this visit.
Her words didnt make any more sense to Toby the second time he heard them.
Toby hoped Mrs. Arthur-Abbot wouldnt notice the noise.
Mrs. Arthur-Abbot set down her cup without drinking from it.
Her gold bracelets clacked together on her wrist.
You are a detective, are you not?
Hugh Abernathy is always able to determine his clients problems a good five minutes before they open their mouths.
Im sure any halfway decent investigator can do the same.
Or arent you half-way decent?
Ive read theSphinx, too, maam, Toby said quickly.
The thought probably hadnt occurred to him.
I can see youre not willing to help me, she said now, rising from her chair.
In that case, Ill take my business to another agency.
Im told Mr. Abernathy can identify criminals by doing nothing more than glancing at their fingernails.
c’mon dont go!
The third promise was the most important.
Just the sound of Mr. Abernathys name sent Uncle Gabriel into a fury whenever he heard it.
With a smile more fierce than friendly, Mrs. Arthur- Abbot slipped back into her seat.
Thats more like it, she said.
Whenever youre ready, Mr. Montrose.
Toby wasnt sure hed be ready anytime soon.
Two months of organizing case records hadnt taught him all that much about the art of detection.
Still, hed read enough detective stories to know the sort of thing Mrs. Arthur-Abbot was expecting.
What conclusions would the worlds greatest detective have drawn from Mrs. Arthur-Abbots appearance?
Even the worst detective on the Row would have been able to manage that.
There was a twitch of movement over Mrs. Arthur- Abbots head, and Toby let his gaze slide upward.
Dangling from the edge of one bedraggled window curtain was a small brown mouse.
Toby knew he should be horrified, but he couldnt help grinning at it.
Is my predicament amusing to you?
Or havent you guessed it yet?
Toby swallowed his grin.
Im sorry, maam, he said again.
There was something unusual about Mrs. Arthur-Abbots hair, now that he thought about it.
Had she been wearing something over her head?
On the peg below that, Mrs. Arthur-Abbot had hung a long black coat.
Toby could have kicked himself.
Youve just come from a funeral, he told Mrs. Arthur-Abbot.
Thats why you were wearing a black coat and veil; youve been in mourning.
You dont think the person died normally.
Theres been a murder, he announced, and you want Uncle Gabriel to find the killer.
Mrs. Arthur-Abbot sat back in her chair.
She didnt stop staring at Toby.
Then, horribly, she began to laugh.
These are my motoring clothes!
Havent you seen a ladys driving veil before?
But you didnt come here in a motorcar, he said.
Theres not one parked in the street.
Thats because it was stolen!
That should be obvious to any decent detective.
I can see that you, Mr. Montrose, are not that person.
I only hope the line wont be too long at Hugh Abernathys.
Wont you wait for my uncle to come home?
There was that small, panicked voice again, sneaking out of Toby before he could fix it.
Im sure hell be able to help you.
With a shriek, Mrs. Arthur-Abbot jumped to her feet.
Tables overturned and knickknacks crashed to the floor as she tore through the parlor, swatting at her hair.
Toby jumped up, too.
he said for the third time.
Toby was surprised half of Detectives Row didnt come running in hopes of finding a convenient crime in progress.
Eventually, Mrs. Arthur-Abbots shrieks turned into words.
This, she sputtered, is a sorry excuse for a detective agency!
She flung her arms wide.
And you, boy, are a sorry excuse for a detective!
Mrs. Arthur-Abbot pulled on her long black coat and squashed her hat down on her head.
I cant imagine wearing this one again after its been so thoroughlymoused.
The trouble had really outdone itself this time.
Thank you for visiting Montrose Investigations, Toby said miserably, wishing he hadnt promised to be polite.
Until the year he turned eight, nothing very terrible had ever happened to Toby.
It should have been a disaster.
Toby had never heard her laugh.
Toby hardly remembered the funeral.
The only thing that had seemed real to Toby was the trouble.
The trouble, however, had other plans in mind.
Otherwise, poor dear, youd have to be sent to an orphanage.
The housemaid shrieked and sent for Aunt Janet.
Youll have to go to your uncle Gabriel.
Aunt Janet had wrinkled her nose as if shed smelled something stale.
Gabriel, shed said, is not a good influence.
Shed snapped the suitcase shut and placed it in Tobys hands.
Be good for your uncle, Toby, shed told him.
And for heavens sake, dont give him any reason to turn you away.
Hes your Last Relative, you know.
Toby was still sweeping pieces of knickknack into the dustpan when Uncle Gabriel returned.
Good news, Tobias!
he said as he stomped inside.
Except for Mrs. Satterthwaite, that is; I expect shell feast like a queen.
He didnt even mind the rubbery carrots.
They probably didnt have any carrots at all at the orphanage.
This time, though, Toby couldnt even manage a chuckle.
This stopped Uncle Gabriels laughter in a hurry.
He peered at the dustpan behind Tobys back.
Then he frowned and ran his fingers over the bristles of his beard.
Youd better tell me exactly what happened.
The mouse was driving a motorcar, you say?
Not the mouse, sir, said Toby.
Only she wasnt driving a motorcar; that was exactly the problem.
In a rush, Toby told his uncle as much as he could bear to confess.
By the time Toby had finished speaking, his mouth was dry.
Theres one more thing Id like to know, Tobias.
Uncle Gabriel folded his hands together, looking grave.
When Mrs. Arthur-Abbot stormed out of our home, where did she go?
Toby wished he hadnt asked.
To Mr. Abernathys, he said as quietly as he could.
Im sorry to say the name, sir; I know you dont like hearing it.
That puffed-up, self-serving old ostrich!
He slumped down in his chair and shrugged.
Truthfully, she sounds like an awful nuisance.
She wants us to pay for the dress that got ruined, he admitted.
She said shed be sending you a letter about it.
I suppose it cost a fortune?
Of course it did; the womans got her own motorcar.
He squinted at Toby.
You dont happen to have any cash reserves hidden under your mattress, do you?
Any gemstones scattered in the back lawn?
I was hoping you did.
I, said Uncle Gabriel, havent had a new case in weeks.
Im not the only one, either.
Miss Price next door says business is as bad as shes ever seen it.
He pressed his fingers to his brow as though he felt a headache coming on.
Maybe I can persuade Mrs. Satterthwaite to make us a loan.
Do you think she might secretly be a duchess?
Probably not, Toby said glumly.
This is all my fault, sir.
My business troubles have nothing to do with you, Tobias, and I shouldnt have brought them up.
Forget I said a word.
Eleven-year-old boys shouldnt be worrying about moneyand while were at it, they certainly shouldnt be calling mesir.
He didnt want Uncle Gabriel to call him an ostrich.
The clock on the mantel struck five, accompanied by a symphony of sharp knocks at the doorMrs.
Satterthwaite, prompt as usual.
Uncle Gabriel stood up to let her in.
Halfway across the hall, however, he paused.
Thats all a detectives assistant really needs to do.
So much for not disappointing Uncle Gabriel.
Yes, sir, said Toby.
Excellent, said Uncle Gabriel.
The symphony of knocks had progressed into its next movement, much more energetic than the first.
Even now, the people of Colebridge loved a good crime.
Keep that nonsense out of my sight, Tobias, hed ordered.
Better yet, burn it.
That miserable man may have charmed the whole city, but he hasnt charmed me.
Toby had been shocked (didnt everyone like Hugh Abernathy?
After all, theSphinxnever published any stories about Gabriel Montrose.
Everything looked just as it usually did at seven oclock on a Tuesday.
A line of anxious clients was already starting to form outside Hugh Abernathys door.
Then again, hed been watching the mailbox for only twelve days.)
he called as he slid across the front hall in his socks.
It had been this way for the past eleven mornings.
Toby could already tell, though, that this morning was different.
To start with, the girl across the street was still walking her dog.
Toby stared back at her.
At last, Toby reached the bottom of the mail stack.
Toby grinned and did a little hop there on the sidewalk.
It made a sort of crunching noise as he walked up the stairs and into the house.
Toby hoped he didnt look too suspicious.
Youre up early again, Uncle Gabriel said as Toby handed him the rest of the mail.
What have we got today?
He flipped through the envelopes, sighing a little every time his fingers brushed against an unpaid bill.
All he could see were long, gloomy columns of zeroes.
Uncle Gabriel, said Toby, do we have any money left at all?
Uncle Gabriel looked startled.
He pushed the stacks of bills to the back of his desk and snapped the money ledger shut.
Youre an observant child, Tobias, he said.
Its a useful quality for a detective to have, but its far less useful in a nephew.
Toby wished hed never asked it.
It was going to be hard to move without crunching.
Im sorry, he said.
Ill go back up to my room now.
Well, theres no need for that!
Uncle Gabriel stood up from his desk.
Im famished, Tobias, and I suspect you are, too.
Why dont we see if we can scrounge up some food?
The parcel was heading down Tobys pant leg now.
Not yet, at least.
Ive got to, um, get ready.
You look ready enough to me.
said Toby in a hurry.
I havent combed it!
Aunt Janet always says you cant eat a meal with messy hair.
That does sound like Janet, Uncle Gabriel admitted.
He ran a hand through his own thicket of hair.
All right, then, Tobias.
You check that youre suitably coiffed, and Ill make breakfast.
I think weve got just enough flour left for pancakes.
In one of these boxes, Toby found a silver-handled dagger.
Its blade was edged with something red that he hoped was rust.
In any case, it was sharp enough to slice the parcel open.
For now, though, Toby would have to pretend that nothing had changed.
Two floors below, there was a huge and echoing crash.
THAT PUFFED-UP, SELF-SERVING OLD OSTRICH!
Toby took the stairs three at a time.
Even a junior detective could tell that something awful had happened.
Text copyright 2017 by Caroline Carlson.
