To Flora, with love. T.K. For Olive/Shrimpy. H.C-B
1 rd OX2 6DP
Great Clarendon Street, Oxfo
ersity of Oxford. a department of the Univ Oxford University Press is in research, scholarship, e llenc exce of ctive obje It furthers the University’s tered trade mark of g worldwide. Oxford is a regis and education by publishin in other countries certa in and UK the in Oxford University Press Knapman 2015 Text copyright © Timothy Holly Clifton-Brown 2015 Illustrations copyright © asserted or and illustrator have been The moral rights of the auth (maker) Press y ersit Univ rd Oxfo Database right First published 2015 reproduced, of this publication may be All rights reserved. No part form or by any means, any in ted, smit tran or m, stored in a retrieval syste ersity Press, n in writing of Oxford Univ without the prior permissio ed with the appropriate agre s term r unde or law, by or as expressly permitted g reproduction nization. Enquiries concernin reprographics rights orga Rights Department, the to sent be ld shou e outside the scope of the abov the address above Oxford University Press, at or cover book in any other binding You must not circulate this on any acquirer ition cond same this se and you must impo in Publication Data British Library Cataloguing Data available erback) ISBN: 978-0-19-273995-7 (pap ok) ISBN: 978-0-19-273996-4 (eBo 1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2 Printed in China n of this book is a natural, Paper used in the productio ts. d grown in sustainable fores woo from e recyclable product mad the environmental to s orm conf ess proc g The manufacturin of origin. regulations of the country
1
Well, one of them was . . . ‘Where’s my lucky ball gone?’ said McWoof.
Detective McWoof and Wanda were top dogs at solving mysteries. ‘I think we need a break,’ said Wanda, eventually. ‘Let’s go and look at some art.’
At the gallery, McWoof stopped by a painting by the famous artist Poodle Doodler.
Then one of the guards ran in. ‘Poodle Doodler has been DOGNAPPED!’ he cried.
‘I don’t understand modern art,’ said McWoof. ‘Is this painting the right way up?’
‘Sounds like a case for us,’ said McWoof. ‘To the Poochmobile!’
He scampered after the ball— straight into the house.
‘Nooooo!’ yelled Wanda. But it was too late. McWoof and Wanda drove to Poodle Doodler’s place to sniff out some clues.
‘Look what you’ve done!’ said the butler. ‘I’m calling the police.’
‘Look, there goes my lucky ball!’ said McWoof, suddenly.
‘No, wait,’ said a voice . . .
It was Marilyn Mongrelle—Poodle Doodler’s wife! ‘The great Detective McWoof, ’ she said. ‘If anyone can find my husband, it’s you.’
Then she burst into tears. Funny, though, Wanda spied an onion in Marilyn’s handkerchief . . .
Marilyn gave McWoof a tour of the house. ‘I make these statues,’ she said. ‘I hope one day they’ll be as famous as my husband’s pictures.’
‘Now this statue is good,’ he said. ‘The eyes follow you round the room.’
‘I still don’t understand modern art,’ said McWoof. ‘Is that picture the right way up?’
‘While this is here, I like to think that Poodle Doodler’s still with us,’ said Marilyn.