D etective Ambrosius Nosegoode - a famous resident of Ashworth feared by criminals everywhere - was tugging at the few hairs left on his head and mumbling something under his breath. On the desk in front of him lay a newspaper with a half-solved crossword puzzle. It was this crossword that was the cause of all the hair tugging and unintelligible muttering. In one corner of the room Cody the dog was lying on a patterned rug and watching his master with amusement. Mr Nosegoode caught Cody''s amused look and burst out, "If you''re so smart, tell me what this is: ''More valuable than gold; more faithful than one''s own shadow''." Cody slowly yawned and replied casually, "It couldn''t be more obvious: a dog."* "A dog, did you say?" the detective livened up. He bent over the crossword, counted the squares and exclaimed, "It fits! Congratulations! You''re amazing!" * (Readers familiar with the previous two books about Mr Nosegoode - Detective Nosegoode and the Music Box Mystery and Detective Nosegoode and the Kidnappers - will already know that Cody has perfect command of the human language.
It should be noted that the three adventures described in this book take place earlier than those in the previous two books - before Mr Nosegoode retired and moved with Cody to Lower Limewood.) Cody nodded with an indulgent smile. "A person who takes so long to realize that his dog is amazing does not deserve to have such a dog." "Are you giving me a hard time?" Mr Nosegoode asked in an offended voice. "No. I''m being philosophical," the dog replied and stretched out on the rug. Mr Nosegoode shrugged and bent over the crossword again. "Empty-headed and.
" he muttered. The dog leapt up onto all fours. "I beg your pardon? I object!" he growled. Mr Nosegoode blinked in surprise. "What do you object to?" "This talk about my head. What''s in it is my own business." Mr Nosegoode burst out laughing. "Cody, my friend!" he chuckled.
"I have an excellent opinion of your head, believe me!" "So why are you talking rubbish, about how it''s empty?" "I''m not talking rubbish. That''s the next crossword clue." "What a silly donkey I am!" Cody said as he also snorted with laughter. They laughed together, as they often did in their small, cheerful flat in Lilac Street. This time, however, their merriment was cut short by the shrill ring of the telephone. They fell silent and exchanged puzzled looks. "Who could it be?" Ambrosius wondered out loud, walking over to the phone. The dog followed.
"Hello?" the detective answered. "Is this Mr Ambrosius Nosegoode?" an unfamiliar voice in the receiver asked. "Yes, that''s me," Ambrosius confirmed. "Inspector!" The breathless voice shouted so clearly that Cody could hear every word. "We need your help! If you don''t help us, something terrible might happen." "I''m sorry," Ambrosius interrupted a bit impatiently, "but I don''t know with whom I have the pleasure." "Oh, I''m the one who should apologize!" said the unidentified speaker, who was suddenly embarrassed. "I''ve completely lost my head.
My name is Vincent Fiddlestick. I''m the director of the Ashworth Museum." "Good morning, Mr Fiddlestick," Ambrosius said, automatically bowing. "Now, please tell me calmly what danger is looming over your head." "It''s not over my head!" Vincent Fiddlestick quickly protested. "There''s something far more valuable than my head that''s in danger! What is at stake is an outstanding work of art, the pride of our museum - the famous painting of Ashworth at sunset by Bonaventure Splotch!" Ambrosius gave Cody a meaningful look, to show that this was a serious matter indeed, and continued listening attentively to the director''s story. "About an hour ago," the voice from the receiver went on, "two unidentified individuals appeared at the museum. They showed suspicious interest in this specific painting, and I''m sure that.
" "Just a second," interrupted the detective, not letting him finish, "couldn''t they just have been ordinary art lovers? Bonaventure Splotch''s masterpiece is so beautiful that it''s hard to walk past it without paying it any attention." "That''s out of the question!" the director said decisively. "I can tell an art lover from a mile off. A true art lover, Mr Nosegoode, is sure to notice other precious works of art, of which we have plenty in our museum. But not those two. They walked past them as if all the other works on display were cabbages at a market stall! They didn''t stop until they got to Ashworth at Sunset , and then they whispered in front of it for a while. And there''s more. Our doorman, who happened to be walking by, heard something which leaves no doubt about their intentions.
" "What was it?" Mr Nosegoode interrupted the director again. "''We have to nab it tonight''," the director said. This made a strong impression on the detective. "I see," he said. "It sounds like your fears are well founded. I will deal with these villains. Just tell me what they look like and where I can find them." "What they look like? Hmm.
" the director was flummoxed. "They look completely normal; there''s nothing unusual about them. But they differ in height: one is over six feet tall, while the other barely comes up to his shoulders. As for where to find them, my guess is that they''re at the Hambone Inn. They were heading in that direction a few minutes ago." "Thank you, that''s all I need to know," Mr Nosegoode said. "I''ll go there straight away and discreetly keep an eye on them. Take heart, Mr Fiddlestick! We won''t let them steal our treasure!" "Let''s hope for the best!" Vincent Fiddlestick declared emotionally.
Mr Nosegoode hung up the receiver and turned to his dog. "Did you hear all that?" he asked. "Yes, every word," Cody said. "So, off to the Hambone Inn!" the detective commanded. Cody licked his lips. "Happily! There are few places on earth I love as much as that friendly pub." And so they went. The Hambone Inn occupied the ground floor of an old building in Singing Starlings Place.
It was famous among local dogs and their owners because it was the only establishment in town that welcomed every Rover, Fido and Spot regardless of breed, shape or size. Dogs were not only allowed but were positively encouraged to come inside. "Dogs warmly welcome!" announced the big sign on the door, inspiring genuine fondness in every dog''s heart. This wasn''t the only sign that adorned the outside of the pub. There was another, at the sight of which Cody''s mouth watered instantly. It advertised the speciality of the house: bones simmered in butter - Cody''s favourite dish. It was no wonder that deep down inside he was almost grateful to the suspicious admirers of Bonaventure Splotch. They stepped inside and looked around the room.
Portraits of distinguished-looking canines gazed down at them from the walls, and no less distinguishedlooking men and women sat at the tables - under which the cream of the crop of dog society was busy chewing on bones. As Cody scanned the room for acquaintances, Ambrosius looked for the admirers of the treasured painting. He had no problem identifying them: they were the only customers who were not accompanied by a dog, which was an obvious giveaway. They sat in the corner of the room, sipping beer and discussing something excitedly. The fact that there were no free tables anywhere near them made Ambrosius''s task of spying on them rather difficult. Luckily, I have a dog , he thought, taking a seat at a table beside a large tile stove. Reassured, he bent down and spoke directly in Cody''s ear, while pretending to tie a shoelace. "They''re here.
They''re sitting in the corner, whispering feverishly. We must not let them out of our sight. Try to get close to them. So as not to arouse their suspicions, act as though you want to play with that friendly puppy hanging around their table. Go now - and good luck!" Cody nodded to show he''d understood. Wagging his tail amiably, he strolled over to the young dog. They met next to the muddy shoes of one of the suspects and quickly started having fun together. Ambrosius watched them for a moment, but he was interrupted when a waiter approached to take his order.
"Good day to you, Inspec." He bowed and broke off abruptly when the detective gestured for him to stop. "I understand," the waiter winked at Ambrosius knowingly. "It''s good to see you again. What can I get you?" "A small black coffee and a bone simmered in butter please," Mr Nosegoode said. "A big one!" he added with emphasis. The waiter bowed again and hurried off to the kitchen. Ambrosius pulled The Voice of Ashworth out of his pocket, unfolded it like a screen in front of him and resumed watching Cody.
If he didn''t know better - if he wasn''t aware of.