Birds on the Brain Read online

  Project Spy Kids III

  Birds On The Brain

  Written by Hazel Edwards.

  Illustrated and designed by Jane Connory.

  Art the part-time spy is at it again, and this time he’s got birds on the brain.

  Mr Snip-pet’s Crested Featherfoot Fantail is missing. It’s his best bird and unless it’s found, his wedding birds-for-hire service might go out of business.

  Art loves to be faced with a problem and he sets out to catch the thief, with help from his friend India (when she’s not collecting dog droppings for her science experiment) and, as usual, no help from Mars Bar!

  Also in the Project Spy Kids Series, by Hazel Edwards.

  Copyright © Hazel Edwards and Jane Connory, 2011.

  Written By Hazel Edwards.

  www.hazeledwards.com

  Illustration and design by Jane Connory.

  www.janeconnory.com

  ISBN 978-0-9871078-8-6

  Originally published by Random House, rights reverted to Hazel Edwards

  All electronic rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  Teacher resources and activities available -

  http://www.hazeledwards.com/shop/item/1657794

  Contents

  Chapter 1 Snip-pets

  Chapter 2 Lost Dove

  Chapter 3 Do Dogs Need Glasses?

  Chapter 4 Droppings

  Chapter 5 The Sleep-Over Ghost

  Chapter 6 Recycling

  Chapter 7 The Great Snail Race

  Chapter 8 Wedding Doves

  Chapter 9 Bird Magic

  Chapter 10 School Photo with Pet!

  Chapter 11 Lost and Found

  Chapter 12 Bird Shot

  Chapter 13 Market Spy

  Chapter 14 Wedding Bird

  Chapter 15 Dog Toilet

  Chapter 1

  Snip-pets

  ‘Oh no! Serena’s still missing!’ cried Mr. Snip-pets, throwing up his hands. ‘My beautiful one! What will I do if she never comes back?’

  The pet shop was very noise.

  Squawk. Cheep. Miaow.

  Cages, bird swings and stands were crowded along the wall. Puppies played in the window boxes.

  ‘Who’s Serena,’ asked Art.

  As a part-time sleuth he was interested in things going wrong. Solving problems was his business.

  In here, it was difficult to work out who or what was missing. The shelf behind Art was crammed with budgie tonic bottles. On the counter, live mealworms wriggled in plastic boxes. Nearby, goldfish swam in tanks.

  ‘Hello. I’m Coky. Hello, I’m Cocky,’ repeated the white, sulphur-crested cockatoo flapping on its perch. He stretched his wings and showed his sulphur crest.

  India ducked. She didn’t like birds much. Big dogs were different.

  ‘The wedding was over hours ago,’said Mr Snip-pets looking at his watch.

  ‘Did Serena get married?’ asked India politely.

  ‘Was she the bride?’ Art felt in his backpack for his clue pad. Sometimes, he drew clues.

  Mr Snippets held his hands up to his head and tugged his hair. At this rate, he’d be bald by Friday, thought Art. A bald pet shop owner, surrounded by fur, feather and fins. That’d be funny.

  ‘Is Serena your daughter?’ asked India.

  Mr Snip-pets shook his head. ‘Serena is my crested featherfoot fantail pigeon.’

  ‘What was she doing at a wedding?’asked Art.

  ‘Sitting on the bride.’ replied Mr Snip-pets seriously. ‘For a photo.’

  That’s when India got the giggles.

  ‘I didn’t know birds went to weddings.’

  ‘Some do.’ Art thought back to the wedding of his cousin Fran. There’d been chicken at the wedding breakfast. Silly name for a meal, calling it breakfast in the middle of the afternoon. Anyway, chicken as on the menu, so they ate it.

  ‘Chickens go to weddings,’ Art added thoughtfully. ‘What’s the problem?’

  Mr. Snip-pets explained that he had a small bird-hire business.’I release white doves at weddings or other special times.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the birds…you know…drop on people?’ asked India tugging at Tiny’s leash. He was starting to sniff around. And Tiny was so large that he was likely to break or eat something in the crowded shop. Sometimes Tiny was an embarrassment.

  Mr. Snip-pets shook his head. “Birds are dried out for several hours before. They work, then they’re happy to fly home afterwards for their food and water. ‘

  At that moment, the sluphur-crested cockatoo flapped its wings and said ‘Down boy!’ in a loud voice. ‘Sit down.’

  Tiny sat. The he looked around to find the owner of the voice. India and Art laughed loudly. So did Mr. Snip-pets.

  ‘Good old sulphur-crested cockatoo. Serena is trained to sit too…for photos. Brides love having their photos taken with white doves flying around. And Serena can sit on shoulders or hands.’ Mr. Snip-pets looked more cheerful. ‘The birds are a significant blessing. Releasing them is a joyous wish.’

  ‘Do you lose many? ‘ asked Art.

  ‘Not many.’

  ‘Only the ones that can’t read the map,’ joked India. She looked at Art’s face. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Forget it.’ Art didn’t have any trouble with maps. Maps were like pictures. You worked out the coloured bits or the lines.

  ‘Birds have a type of radar. They fly straight home unless they follow another bird, just for fun.’ Mr. Snip-pets showed them the big aviary. There were about twenty birds inside.

  ‘Is this Serena’s cage?’ Art pointed to a white cage with a white bow of ribbon. The cage was empty.

  Art felt a curl of excitement. Another mystery to solve.

  ‘This is her performing cage. I take it to weddings. Otherwise, she’s in the aviary.’

  Art looked closely at the sign on the cage.

  India glanced at Art. ‘The Love Dove’ she said loudly. Art nodded and drew a heart on his clue pad. Sometimes words got in the way of being a sleuth. That’s when a readaholic friend like India, was useful. She could read things for him, but he’d have to pay her back.

  ‘Is Serena valuable?’

  Asking questions on the spot was quicker than reading.

  ‘Very. She’s rare. Her tail is shaped like a beautiful fan. It took a long time to train her. She would be difficult to replace. The crested featherfoot fantail pigeon comes from India.’

  ‘I didn’t know that.’ India was surprised.’ My family came from there too.’

  ‘Some Indians believe that releasing the birds releases their worries.’ Mr. Snip-pets nodded. ‘But ever since I released Serena on the practice flight and she didn’t come back, I’ve been very worried.’

  ‘Tell us what happens with the birds at the wedding.’

  Art was determined to solve the mystery of the missing Serena before Saturday.

  Chapter 2

  Lost Dove

  Mr. Snip-pets told them about his wedding hire birds.

  ‘Fantails don’t fly up much. The pigeons do.’

  Art listened carefully.

  ‘You said pigeons. I thought they were white doves.’

  ‘They belong
to the same family. White pigeons are uncommon. It took trips to the market to find white pigeons. Then I trained them to sit and to fly home.

  Mr. Snip-pets opened a drawer. ’Here. I’ve got some photos.

  A dove with a tail like an open fan was sitting on a bride’s hand.

  ‘Your fantail?’ India looked closely.

  ‘Serena.’

  The bride was smiling. So was the groom. Other white birds flew around.

  ‘Looks ace.’

  ‘Photographers love the birds. Brides relax with the birds around. They’re always wanting to buy my Serena, but I won’t sell.’

  ‘The brides or the photographers?’ asked Art quickly.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘How do you get the birds ready?’

  ‘Three days before the wedding, I wash them.’

  ‘With the hose?’ asked India.

  ‘No.’ Mr. Snip-pets smiled a little. ‘In the sink. Bird feathers have a natural wax. You wash them to get them clean. After about three days, their feathers shine form the wax. They look beautiful in the photos. I put the birds in the aviary with clean grit. That keeps their feet clean.’

  Art worked that one out. ‘You wouldn’t want them walking on the bride’s sleeves with dirty feet.’

  ‘Right.’ Mr. Snip-pets nodded. “Sometimes I take them out a few days before. I load them on the van in a crate. Then we have a training run.’

  ‘... a training flight…’suggested India.

  ‘We drive to the church. Then I release them.’

  ‘And they use bird radar to get home?’ Art was sketching on his clue pad.

  ‘Yes. They fly and I drive. Usually they beat me home. Only this time Serena didn’t come back at all. The next wedding starts at 3 o’clock on Saturday. Photos at 3.45. I’ve promised the bride to have twenty doves and Serena there.’ Mr.Snip-pets tugged at his hair again. ‘Who could have taken Serena? Or could she have flown away by herself?’

  Art listened carefully. He didn’t take notes; he just remembered things. He looked closely at the cage. There were scratch marks near the cage door.

  Art pointed. ‘Were these scratch marks here before?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Mr.Snip-pets looked closely. ‘I didn’t notice. My partner’s away and I’ve been so busy. Can’t even leave the shop to look for Serena.’

  ‘Did you use this cage for the training flight?’ Art was drawing again.

  ‘No. Only used for display at weddings. We all get dressed up then: the birds, the cage and me. I wear a dark suit.’

  The doorbell rng and another customer walked in.

  It was Mario, better known as Mars Bar.His grandad trained greyhounds.

  ‘The dog food order was messed up again,’ said Mario.’Grandad sent me to get the extra bags. He’s spewing.’

  ‘Okay Mario,’ said Mr. Snip-pets. ‘It wasn’t your fault this time.’

  ‘That’s what I told Grandad. But he never listens.’

  Mario turned around, noticing the others. ‘Not you two again. Hope we’re not in the same class this year.’

  School was starting tomorrow and Mario sounded just the same.

  But Art was more interested in Serena.

  ‘I’ll try and find out for you Mr. Snip-pets,’ he offered, running his fingers over the bird cage scratches.

  ‘Find out what?’ asked Mario.

  India explained.

  ‘You’ll never find that bird,’ sneered Mario. ’You’re hopeless. I bet Art can’t even spell the word ‘dove’.’

  That made Art even more determined. He was going to solve the mystery of the missing fantail.

  ‘See you later,’ called Art and India left too.

  ‘There will be a reward,’ said Mr. Snip-pets, but Art had already gone.

  Only Mario heard.

  Chapter 3

  Do Dogs Need Glasses?

  ‘Did you write the LOST DOVE sign for me?’ Art was in a hurry to pin notices on shop windows, fences and poles.

  ‘Yes.’ India gave him the sheets of paper.

  ‘What do you want to swap the writing for?’

  ‘An hour of dog walking.’

  ‘That’s a lot! Is something wrong with Tiny? ‘ asked Art patting him. Like a fast broom, Tiny’s giant tail swept the leaves. Then he sat down with a dog smile as Art pinned the notice on the fence.

  ‘I think he needs glasses.’ India was holding Tiny’s face in her hands. She looked closely at his eyes. Tiny tried to lick her. ‘I’m sure he needs glasses,’ repeated India stroking Tiny’s long nose.

  Mario walked past and overheard the word ‘glasses.’

  He thought he knew everything about dogs.

  ‘Our greyhounds can see a rabbit a kilometer away. They can see everything. Dogs don’t wear glasses.’

  ‘Tiny can’t see some things,’ insisted India. ‘He’s missing out.’

  Art waved his hand from left to right. Tiny looked at him. Art moved his hand again. Tiny’s eyes followed the movement from left to right. The he followed from right to left.

  The dog looked as if he were shaking his head.

  ‘Do you need glasses, Tiny?’ Art cried. ’He’s shaking his head. He’s saying ‘No’ .’

  India laughed. ‘I can make him nod “yes”. Look!’

  India took a biscuit from her backpack. She held the biscuit up high. Tiny looked up. Then she dropped her hand down. Down went Tiny’s head. ‘See.’She threw him the biscuit. Tiny crunched noisily.

  ‘Dumb dog.’ Mario knew his grandad’s greyhounds were better than Tiny at doing anything. ‘How come he needs glasses?’

  India stood up.’ When I throw the ball over on the oval, he loses it.’

  Art watched Tiny crunching. Crumbs fell on the ground. Tiny’s eating manners were extra messy.’ What colour is the ball?’

  ‘We’ve lost five already. They were green.’

  Art laughed. ‘That’s why he loses them. Green ball. Green grass. Get it? The mystery of the disappearing ball.’

  Annoyed, India dusted the crumbs off. She liked to be the first to work things out. ’Put up the other notices yourself, Art. I’ve got to go home.’

  ‘My grandad’s got contact lenses, ‘offered Mario.

  ‘I;ve never met a dog wearing contact lenses.’ said India. She was still cross with herself for not realizing about the green balls.

  ‘You wouldn’t know,’said Mario. ‘Not unless the lenses fell out. Yesterday morning at 5 we were looking for Grandad’s down at the training track. Of course, I found one of them…with a torch.’

  ‘Of course,’ echoed India. ‘You would.’

  ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ said Art. ‘Bye Tiny. See you when school starts tomorrow, India. Then only 67 school days until the next holidays.’

  ‘See you, with or without glasses,’ laughed India.

  Art grinned as he left but Mario still didn’t understand.

  ‘A bird can’t read a sign,’ he yelled. ‘Nor can some people.’

  Mario looked closely at the LOST DOVE sign on the fence. He didn’t notice anything about a reward. It only said: If you find the missing dove, please call Art on 8087803’ Mario felt in his back pocket. He pulled out a black texta and blotted out Art’s phone number. Then Mario wrote his own above it. ‘Easy money for birdbrains.’

  On the way home, Art pinned his LOST DOVE notices everywhere.

  At the shopping centre, he left one on the ‘Community Notices’ board. People looked there when they wanted to buy or sell things. On the ‘Entertainments This Week’ board was a picture of a magician . he was pulling a rabbit out of a top hat. Art looked at the picture closely, but there were no doves.

  How could he solve the mystery of the missing dove?

  Pinning up LOST DOVE signs wasn’t enough.


  Where had the doves gone? Who had taken them? And why?

  Finding out was a job for a super sleuth like Art. As he walked past the police station, Art had an idea. Police?

  Slowly he went up the steps. He pushed open the glass door.

  GUN LICENCES. SAFETY HOUSE PROGRAM. MISSING PERSONS

  The walls of the police station were crowded with posters. Art looked closely at one poster. Underneath the word MISSING was a girl’s photo. She looked about fourteen. Someone coughed. Art looked around. The police officer on duty has coughed.

  ‘Excuse me, do you have a MISSING form?’ asked Art quickly.

  The police officer’s round face looked over the desk.

  ‘Who’s missing , son?’

  ‘A dove.’

  ‘We don’t have missing dove forms. Only canaries.’ He laughed. ‘And galahs! Got plenty of them around here.’

  ‘Canaries?’

  Smiling, the police officer said,’ They’re yellow stickers. For unroadworthies. Unroadworthy cars. We call them canaries.’

  Art smiled politely. Adult jokes weren’t always funny. And sometimes kids could think differently from adults. Birds were hard to track. Perhaps part-time sleuths could do things the police didn’t have time to cover? Burglars would interest them more than birds.

  ‘D’you mind if I put my LOST DOVE notice on your board?’

  The police officer took the notice. He read India’s writing carefully. ‘I’ll check with the sergeant.’

  Art looked around the walls of the police station. ‘a ‘Neighbourhood Watch’ chart had coloured pins to show where robberies had happened. Art found a green patch.That would be the park at the bottom of his street. There was a yellow drawing pin nearby. Art wondered if that was a robbery.

  ‘Okay son,’ the police officer was back. ‘Serge said just this once. Pin it over with the community notices.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Art. ‘What do the yellow pins mean?’

  ‘Hot burgs.’