Alice Pritchard and the Case of the Broken-In Bakery

Footsteps vibrated against the marble walls and bounced back towards the cobblestone street.

Three figures appeared round the corner - two policemen with a young man in handcuffs were striding towards the police station. The handcuffed man was in his early twenties, with wavy blonde hair that dropped down till his shoulders. His eyes were brimming with tears, and he was trying his hardest not to break free of the firm policemen who were seizing him. 'For the thousandth time, I'm innocent,' he said in a trembling voice, shivering all over. 'Shut up, Jon,' said a burly policeman, slapping his back, causing the man called Jon to stumble forward.

'Anybody - help?' he whispered feebly - but there was nobody to plead to except for the bare walls, and they were uncourteous indeed.

'Yeah - and Hilary was - well, hilarious!' laughed young Alice Pritchard, arm in arm with her best friend; the orphaned Darrell. She grinned and was about to say something else when a dark look crossed her face. 'What?' asked Alice, quick to notice her friend's expression. 'L-Look,' she murmured, pointing towards a handcuffed man stumbling forward with unmoved policemen at his heels. 'Why - that's - that's Jon!' cried Alice, and grabbing her friend's arm, rushed towards him. 'Stop right there, miss,' warned a policeman, observing that she meant to take off his handcuffs. 'But why?' demanded Alice. 'What's happened?'

'Jonathan Kingston, as stated by Mr James Henderson; has stolen his most precious secret ingredient, costing $19000. It is an economic fallout,' explained the policeman on the right. 'And it's been proven, too.' 'But how?' asked Darrell, wringing her hands. 'It was found under young Jon's bed, kid,' the policeman replied, and then eyed Jon with disgust. 'Being young won't stop you from being deceitful.' Jon made a wild motion as if to knock out the man who'd said it, but Alice held his fists together. 'Be calm, now, Jonny,' she soothed, 'we'll get you out of this trouble.' The other policeman laughed shrilly. 'You kiddos?' he chuckled. 'Don't forget you're just kids. Keep your feet on the ground.'

'Shut up!' snapped Alice, standing up straight with a haughty look on her face. 'I'll go and speak to Henderson now!' Before stomping off with Darrell, she told the policemen: 'If I don't solve this case within twenty-four hours - you may take Jon wherever you want to.'

Watching the sturdy little figure vanish into the night with a solemn vow, Jon thought he never could have a finer friend.

'My precious ingredient is gone!' wailed Mr Henderson, flopping down on a cushioned chair. 'Could you please tell us what that particular ingredient was?' asked Alice, while Darrell readied her notepad and pen in order to scribble down notes.

Mr Henderson folded his arms and pouted like a very cross eight-year-old boy with no presents for Christmas. 'I won't,' he said simply, and Alice gave it up. 'Then could you at least tell us when the theft occurred?' she pleaded. 'Quarter past six, today,' answered Mr Henderson, 'I was coming back from my tea-break to my bakery; and what did I see? The safe door open, and my secret ingredient gone!' He banged his fists on the table desperately. 'I want it back!' he bawled, but neither Alice nor Darrell were moved by his cries. 'Great,' Alice said, 'and did you show this ingredient to any person?' Mr Henderson thought for a moment before replying: 'Yes. I was proud of it, you see - I showed Kimmy, my friend, Jacob, my former-business partner and of course - that brute Jonathan!' Tears splashed on the table he was staring at, but again, no act of regret moved Alice, at least.

'Do you have CCTV cameras?' she questioned him. 'Yes we do,' he replied. 'But they've not been working for two days,' he added as an afterthought. 'Hmm.' Darrell scribbled furiously in her notebook; though Alice was not quite sure whether she was doodling or taking notes. 'You can take leave, now,' she told Henderson pointedly, 'we'll inform you on any updates later.' He got up thankfully, and waddled towards the door and, in a few minutes, had vanished into thin air.

'So - what are you understanding, dear Alice?' inquired Darrell, who had not been able to make out head or tail of this strange case - but her friend had asked only three questions - and had taken leave of Mr Henderson!

'What I've understood, Darrell,' answered Alice, looking lost in her own world, 'is that Henderson, in fact, does not have CCTV cameras.' 'What?' gasped Darrell, and followed her friend's gaze. Sure enough, there were no wires connected to it. And in Harborley Lane, wireless CCTVs were not yet available.

'Does that mean...' she whispered, and Alice finished her query. 'Yes, it means that Mr James Henderson is hiding something. And we have to find out what, and why,' she said with an air of finality. 'But how?' demanded Darrell, perplexed. Alice did not reply but walked slowly toward the "CCTV" cameras - and tugged one open. It came out, and she fingered the battery suite and examined the screen. 'It has a hole in it,' she whispered to herself, and pressed a red button located at the back of the fake camera. Immediately, a large bottle draped in red silk appeared on the table, where she was pointing it to.

Without another word, Alice strode towards the police station; a confused Darrell following closely at her heels.

'If this is some sort of blubbery nonsense, I'm leaving,' muttered Mr Henderson, red in the face.

'Don't worry, Mr Henderson - we've found out your ingredient thief,' assured Alice in a smooth voice, 'and that's why we've called you and the Inspector - to handcuff the real thief - which is, by the way, not Jon.' 'Not the fat nitwit?' breathed Mr Henderson. Alice ignored him and continued: 'I would advise you to wait patiently for a few moments 'til Darrell brings the CCTV cameras in.' 'I'm here!' called Darrell, brown locks of hair dancing on her shoulders - she was carrying the "CCTV" camera they had inspected the other night.

'What sort of nonsense is this?' demanded Mr Henderson furiously, white in the face. 'You shall know soon enough,' replied Alice coldly. 'Go on, dear girls; I am most intrigued,' put in the Inspector, and they obliged.

Alice switched the camera on, and pointed it towards the safe in which the secret ingredient was foretold to be kept. The same red bottle appeared, astonishing the policemen and Jon. 'This is the secret ingredient,' announced Alice, 'Mr Henderson used this laser ray and he never had a secret ingredient, did he? And the bottle found under Jon's bed was just a bottle of mead. He framed him because - well, Jon, my dear friend - why don't you say that for yourself?'

Jon, flushing with rage and humility, managed to keep his voice calm and explained: 'I - I handed him over to the police five years ago, for smuggling drugs. I-I guess he wanted to take revenge on me.' 'Yes!' Alice cried, 'and he was the thorn in Mr Henderson's life. You were revengeful, weren't you, Henderson?' James Henderson hung his head, blushing furiously - but he wasn't going to give up so easily. 'Lunacy!' he managed to cry, 'Inspector! Inspector! Do you really believe this - utter lunacy?' He wheeled around to Alice and Darrell and made to shake them by their collars, yelling: 'This is not funny, you know!'

'No, it is not,' said the Inspector coldly, 'framing a man is not funny at all.' He seized him by the shoulders and handcuffed his wrists. Before taking him out, he took off his cap and saluted the two young detectives. 'Thank you,' he said and Alice beamed. She turned to her friend and arm in arm, they left the bakery.

The two ten-year-old detectives were back in business.