Smugglers: An Amy Carter Mystery (extract)

a podcast-linked crime thriller teri s y M r e y Cart m A e h T

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This edition published in Great Britain in 2009 by Quest, an imprint of Top That! Publishing plc, Marine House, Tide Mill Way, Woodbridge, Suffolk, IP12 1AP, UK www.quest-books.co.uk 0246897531 Creative Director – Simon Couchman Editorial Director – Daniel Graham Art Editor – Matt Denny Commissioning Editor – Lorna Thomson Podcast Engineer – Paul Strandoo Written by Karen King All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Neither this book nor any part or any of the illustrations, photographs or reproductions contained in it shall be sold or disposed of otherwise than as a complete book, and any unauthorised sale of such part illustration, photograph or reproduction shall be deemed to be a breach of the publisher’s copyright.

ISBN 978-1-84666-810-4 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Printed and bound in China

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

With thanks to the following voice actors: Amy Carter: Valentina Huxley Max: Cameron Casey Sid the Sniff: Steve Wooldridge Will: Mick Farrow Suzanna from Nite Life: Linda Wooldridge Lee from Nite Life: Steve Wooldridge

Written by Karen King

Published by Quest.

Quest is an imprint of Top That! Publishing plc, Tide Mill Way, Woodbridge, Suffolk, IP12 1AP, UK www.quest-books.co.uk Copyright Š 2009 Top That! Publishing plc.

All rights reserved

The Amy Carter Mysteries

Are you a top detective like Amy Carter?

As the drama unfolds, join the hunt and become a great detective yourself! As well as seeking out clues as you read, download audio evidence via podcast to help you uncover the truth!

Whenever you see this icon go to www.quest-books.co.uk and download the relevant podcast number. Listen carefully, as many times as you like, then piece together the evidence to get to the bottom of the case. Time is already ticking away, so get reading and stay alert – the clues are out there!

Download the final thrilling podcast to learn if you successfully spotted all of the clues to solve the case.

Chapter 1

The Light There it was again. I frowned at the distant flashing light, just visible over the rooftops from my attic bedroom. I’d been up late, talking on the Internet to my buddies back home in the USA, and had glanced out of the window before getting into bed. That’s when I’d noticed the light.

It had been flashing for over five minutes now, and I was sure it was a signal. It wasn’t an SOS – I’d counted the flashes and they weren’t the three short, three long, three short of the distress signal – but more like on, off, on, off as if to say ‘Hey, I’m here.’

The sound of a door opening below and footsteps on the landing distracted my attention from the window. I crept across my bedroom, opened the door and peered over the banister, but I couldn’t see anyone – they must have been too far down the 1

The Amy Carter Mysteries

stairs. I guessed who it was though – Mr Hodgkin, one of Gran’s guests. He had arrived at Beachview, Gran’s B&B, on Friday afternoon, two days ago. He drives Gran totally loco because he goes out every night to watch badgers and then spends all morning in bed catching up on his sleep. How weird is that?

When I went back to the window and stared out, the light had stopped flashing. I shrugged. It was probably the beam from the lighthouse, the beach was over in that direction. I mean, who’d be flashing a light at one thirty in the morning? I dropped the curtains, climbed into bed and snuggled down to sleep. *

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I could see Gran was in a bad mood as soon as I walked into the kitchen the next morning. She was banging the plates down as she laid the table, her lips pursed and her face tight and pinched.

I glanced at the clock. Seven thirty, so I wasn’t 2

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late for breakfast and, thankfully, I’d had a quick shower, pulled on some shorts and a tee shirt and combed my hair before I went down. Gran hated it if anyone turned up at the breakfast table without getting washed and dressed first. Maybe, for once, it was someone else who had upset her.

Not Mr Winkleberry, of course. He was making a pot of tea and looked very much at home, as usual. He’d been staying at the B&B for years and was here for the whole summer. He and Gran seemed to be getting a bit sweet on each other, which was really cringeworthy. I mean, they’re both pretty ancient.

‘Do you need any help, Gran?’ I asked tentatively. When Gran had that look on her face she was liable to snap my head off just for breathing.

‘You could set out the cutlery, please, Amy.’ Gran banged another plate down on the table and then glanced over at me. She looked real mad. ‘Of course, Mr Hodgkin won’t be joining us for breakfast. I heard him come in at half past five this 3

The Amy Carter Mysteries

morning. Half past five! Can you believe it? Now he’ll be in bed until lunchtime again and I won’t be able to clean his room and put fresh towels in there.’

‘Would you like me to have a word with him, Sue?’ Mr Winkleberry asked. ‘You shouldn’t have to put up with this.’

‘No, I’ll deal with it,’ Gran said. ‘I’ll speak to him later, but thank you for the offer.’

‘How long’s he staying for?’ I asked.

Before Gran could answer, a waft of sickly sweet perfume drifted through the door and then Miss Pearce floated in, dressed top to toe in designer gear and dripping with gold jewellery. She’d arrived yesterday afternoon and for some strange reason seemed to have taken a shine to Mr Winkleberry, even though he must be at least ten years older than her. They’d spent a couple of hours chatting last night. She homed in on him now.

‘Good morning, David.’ She flashed him a dazzling smile then nodded at Gran, ‘Mrs Carter.’

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She sat down at the table, completely ignoring me.

‘Are one of those cups of tea for me? Oh, how lovely! You are kind.’ Another dazzling smile at Mr Winkleberry.

I tell you, I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I wolfed down my breakfast as fast as I could, loaded the plate in the dishwasher, muttered ‘I’m off for a walk,’ and made a quick exit.

Fluffy, Gran’s bichon frise, followed me, watching forlornly from the doorstep as I walked out of the backyard. I would have taken her, but I was heading for the beach and I knew that Gran would go seriously nuts if I got any sea water or sand on her precious Fluffy’s curly white fur. Fluffy was not only her pride and joy but a champion show dog, so was one pampered pooch.

Before I’d even turned the corner of Gran’s end terraced house, I heard footsteps running after me.

‘Where are you sneaking off to?’

It was Max, the kid next door. I might have known he’d be looking out for me. He was like my 5

The Amy Carter Mysteries

shadow now he’d helped me solve two cases: the kidnapping of Fluffy and the sabotage of Old Joe’s cottage. Mind you, I was the one who’d done all the super-sleuthing – I’d done some crime busting back home in the US so was pretty experienced at it – Max had just tagged along for the ride. Trouble is, now he thought we were best buddies, but hanging around with a nine-year-old kid is so not cool.

‘I’m not sneaking around, I’m going for a walk along the beach,’ I told him. ‘See you later.’ I shoved my hands in my pockets and sauntered around the corner.

Max caught up with me. ‘I’ll come too, just in case you get lost,’ he said.

That was always Max’s excuse for hanging around me. I’d only been in Little Cragg a few weeks – my parents were touring Europe with the musical show they starred in so I’d come to stay with Gran in England for the summer – but I pretty much knew my way around by now.

‘I can manage, thanks,’ I told him. ‘Does 6

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Mummy know you’re out?’

He scowled. He hated it when I reminded him how much younger than me he was. Four years to be exact, which by my reasoning made me the boss, though Max didn’t always see it that way.

‘Okay, go by yourself … but you’ll never find the smugglers’ caves.’

‘Smugglers’ caves?’ I tried not to sound too interested.

‘Yeah, not many people know where they are.

But you go off by yourself.’ He turned and started to walk back.

I hesitated. Max was always doing this. It made him feel good if he knew something I didn’t. I’d read a bit about Cornwall before I’d come over and had been fascinated by its smuggling history. It would be seriously mega to see the caves, but I wasn’t about to let Max know how desperate I was.

‘You can come if you like,’ I told him. ‘It’s up to you.’

I carried on walking. Sure enough, Max was soon 7

The Amy Carter Mysteries

back by my side.

‘My great-great-grandad used to be a smuggler,’ he said.

I looked at him to see if he was lying. ‘Straight up?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘Mum told me all about it. He was known as Smuggler Ben. These caves I’m gonna show you are the ones he used to store his stuff.’

Well, that sounded pretty exciting. Exciting enough to put up with Max’s company anyway.

To my surprise, instead of heading for the main beach, Max went down towards the harbour. ‘Are we going to the dog beach?’ I asked. It was Craggmor Beach really, but the locals called it the ‘dog beach’ because it was the only beach you were allowed to take dogs in the summer. I knew where it was because when Fluffy had been kidnapped the blackmailer had asked us to meet him there with the ransom money.

‘No, Smugglers’ Bay, it’s a bit further along than Craggmor Beach. Just follow me.’

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Even though it had just gone nine, the harbour front was crowded with tourists wanting to make the most of the sunshine. They walked along the middle of the road, three or four abreast, regardless of the car drivers hooting their horns angrily at them. We weaved in and out of the crowds, which, thankfully, dwindled once we left the harbour front.

Then, Max led the way past the dog beach, around a couple of corners, down a side street and then stopped at some stone steps, almost hidden by a high wall. I peered over the wall and saw a stretch of golden sand in front of me. Amazing! I’d never have guessed a beach was hidden here. There was no sign of any caves though.

‘Where are the caves?’ I asked.

‘You can’t see them from here,’ Max said.

The steps were narrow and broken here and there so we had to go down real careful – one slip and we’d be at the bottom a lot quicker than we planned and probably with a couple of broken bones in the process.

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As soon as we reached the bottom I looked around for the caves. Some big black rocks towered above us on the right like a high wall, gradually getting smaller and smaller until they were only boulders scattered along the beach. In front of us was the ocean, to the left the beach stretched as far as I could see. ‘So, where are the caves?’ I asked.

‘Behind those rocks. There’s another beach there, it’s like a secret cove,’ Max said.

We took off our trainers, stuffed our socks in and carried them as we walked barefoot over the sand to the smaller rocks. The sea lapped gently over the rocks and I couldn’t resist paddling in it before climbing over.

I jumped down and gazed in awe at the scene in front of me.

We were in a little cove, flanked by a huge black cliff so tall that when I looked up I felt dizzy.

Several rugged caves were formed in the cliff; deep, dark holes that held centuries of secrets.

Smugglers’ caves.

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Chapter 2

Danger I was seriously excited. I put my trainers down on the sand, whipped out my cellphone and snapped away, taking photos of the caves, the cove and the sea.

‘Told you!’ Max said triumphantly. He was already snapping away with his phone. Ever since Old Joe had given me a top-of-the-range racing bike and Max a snazzy new cellphone to thank us for helping to catch the person who’d been sabotaging his cottage, Max had been taking photos of just about everything. I often teased him that he was acting like a tourist.

‘Mum said that the smugglers unloaded their cargo off the boats and piled it in one of the caves.

Then they carried it through a secret tunnel to another cave at the back. I tried to find the tunnel once but couldn’t,’ he told me.

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The Amy Carter Mysteries

About the Author Karen King began her writing career with the teenage magazine Jackie and spent many years writing for various children’s magazines, including Winnie the Pooh, Rosie and Jim and Nursery Education, before concentrating solely on writing books. With over one hundred children’s books published, Karen writes both fiction and non-fiction titles for children from pre-school to teens.

Karen’s published work includes Foul Play, Cosmic Whizz Kid, Space Chase on Planet Zog and The Gold Badge, as well as Amy Carter’s first two mysteries, Dognapped! and Sabotage!.

Her picture book I Don't Eat Toothpaste Anymore won the Gold Award for Best Product, and her book entitled The Birthday Surprise won the Practical Parenting Award.

If you enjoyed Smugglers!, read the first and second Amy Carter Mysteries, Dognapped! and Sabotage!.

Available from all good bookshops!

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Written by Karen King

When daring detective Amy Carter spots a mysterious flashing light, all her instincts tell her there is mischief afoot. The discovery of smugglers’ crates in a secret cave confirms her suspicions.

With sidekick Max in tow, will the pair expose the smugglers of Little Cragg or will their snooping lead to more than they bargained for?

Join Amy in her investigation! Download five podcast-linked clues to help piece together the evidence and solve the case!

RRP £5.99

Quest is an imprint of Top That! Publishing plc, Tide Mill Way, Woodbridge, Suffolk, IP12 1AP, UK www.quest-books.co.uk Copyright © 2008 Top That! Publishing plc.

All rights reserved Printed and bound in China 0246897531