The Case of the Exploding Brains Read Online Free Page B

see—”
    “Watch your attitude,” Aggressive Policeman blusters. “You think you’re smarter than the police because you’ve got some kind of photogenic memory . . . ?
    “Photographic,” I point out politely. “I doubt my memory looks particularly good in pictures.”

    “Photographic, photogenic, photic-schmotic. I don’t care, Miss. Let me tell you—”
    I don’t get to hear what he’s planning to tell me because we’re interrupted by the Museum Curator Gnome.
    “Which of you young folk would be Noelle and Holly Hawkins?” He glances from our table to the other school party.
    I’m about to step forward when I notice his shirt sleeves are covered in blood.
    He sees me flinch. “Fear not, small person. This blood is not mine. It came from the nasal passages of one of our poor, unfortunate security guards.”
    Reassuring. Not.
    “Nosebleed, you say?” Aggressive Policeman scribbles in his notebook. “Could that be an effect of the Moon Rock?”
    Museum Curator Gnome scratches his chin. “Seems a bit early, but we must be on our guard. One of these young gentlemen was similarly affected, I recall.” He spots Smokin’ Joe.
“You, my fine young fellow! How are your nasal passages?”
    Smokin’ Joe ignores Museum Curator Gnome and fiddles with his headphones.
    Archimedes!
Look at the colour of them. How did I not notice that before?
    CLUE 9
    Smokin’ Joe is wearing turquoise headphones.
    “Excuse me.” I pull the gnome’s sleeve, carefully avoiding the blood. “Did the security guard with the nosebleed have a turquoise walkie-talkie?”
    “What a strange question, child. I have more important things to do than . . . Wait! Yes, I think he did. I noticed something off about the fellow, but I was too busy being bled on to give
it my full attention. Turquoise walkie-talkies? Yes, indeed. Whatever next?”
    I look at Holly and Porter. They’re already looking at me. So is Museum Curator Gnome.
    He peers over his glasses at my face. “You’re one of the Hawkins girls, aren’t you? Striking family resemblance.” He turns to peer at Holly. “You too. A less
striking resemblance, but it’s still there. The daughters of Professor ‘Big Brain’ Brian, I presume?”
    I nod. Aggressive Policeman’s lips twist and he makes another note in his book. I try not to sink in my chair. I used to be proud when people linked me to Dad, but that was when he was
just a famous celebrity scientist. Now he’s an infamous crazy-scientist who faked his own death by blowing up a public toilet.
    Museum Curator Gnome doesn’t seem to hold that against him. “Terribly sorry to hear of your father’s misfortunes,” he says. “He was a wonderful supporter of the
Science Museum and a splendidly clever fellow. He’d have found a solution to this dreadful situation. When I discovered his daughters were on the premises I thought you might be able to help
– I didn’t realise how small you’d be. Still, I’m sure you’ll be smashingly bright when you’re older, just like your father. I was devastated when I heard
he’d perished. Delighted to discover he’d just . . . er . . . just . . .”
    “Just blown up a public toilet and pretended to be dead?” Holly spits out the words in disgust.
    “Mmm. Yes. That.” Museum Curator Gnome nods.
    “I’m not that young,” I point out. “I’m twelve and I have an IQ of one hundred and fifty-seven.”
    Museum Curator Gnome isn’t listening. “Do ask the old chap if he plans to return and complete his research after his . . . break. Shouldn’t be embarrassed about . . . er . . .
you know. These things happen to us all.”
    I’m so busy wondering what Museum Curator Gnome gets up to in his spare time if he thinks being arrested for exploding a toilet ‘happens to us all’ that I forget to ask what
Dad was researching.
    Never mind. I know who can tell me about the research. And the nosebleeds. And the moon connection.
    Dad.
    Luckily I’ve already booked a