Tokyo Heist Read Online Free
Author: Diana Renn
Tags: People & Places, Asia, Juvenile Fiction, Young Adult Fiction, Art, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Art & Architecture
grateful Yamadas with the missing portfolio. They’d write me a check. I’d give some reward money to my mom for my college fund. I’d buy a car, so Edge and Reika and I wouldn’t have to take the stupid bus everywhere. I’d pay my own expenses in Japan. And I’d load up on top-notch art supplies, so I could get my manga looking sharp. Then maybe I’d have the guts to show my drawings to people.
“So what would a thief do with the art?” I ask as Julian ushers me back inside.
Julian shakes out his umbrella and puts it in the stand in the hall. “Usually art thieves aren’t the brains. They’re doing dirty work for someone higher up. So the thief will probably pass the drawings on to some head honcho. Maybe he already has.”
I open my mouth to ask another question, but he says, “Look, kid, it’s been fun chatting, but I have to get back to the party.”
“Sure. Thanks for the info. Hey, can you tell me where you put my bags?”
Julian leads me over to his desk, behind a partition that screens it off from the gallery.
“Mind if I use your desk for a while? I have a project I’m working on.”
Julian grudgingly shifts a few binders out of my way. Then he leaves me alone.
I take out my black, spiral-bound sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. Julian’s desk displays only binders, auction house catalogs, a computer screen, and random Euro-style office supplies. Also a notepad with Margo’s gallery logo at the top.
In Vampire Sleuths 37, best friends Kyo and Mika break into the school principal’s office at night (which is the only time they can sleuth, being vampires). Searching for clues to solve a computer-hacking case, they find a blank notepad. Kyo puts a sheet of paper on top of it. He rubs that top paper with a pencil until a numeric code emerges. Mika deduces that the code was written on a previous sheet of paper on the notepad; the pen left the imprint on subsequent pages. The code turns out to be a password for the school’s computer system.
Maybe that rubbing trick works in real life. And I’m curious about what Julian might take notes on, since I’m using him as a character study for Sockeye. I take a piece of tracing paper out of my backpack, lay it over the notepad, and rub it with my pencil. Imprints of letters and numbers appear. I pick out the words in slanting handwriting:
*PICK UP SUIT!*
CALL MOM
KAZOO 6:30
2535554612
Most of the notes seem obvious, except “kazoo.” Is he taking some adult education class like “How to Loosen Up and Be a Fun Person”? That string of ten numbers intrigues me, though. It might be a phone number. Two five three is a Tacoma area code. Who would Julian call there? Feeling daring, like a professional sleuth, I pick up the phone and dial.
“You have reached Pierce County Realty. Please leave a message, or call back during our regular business hours, which are . . .”
I hang up fast and shove my notepad rubbing into the back of my sketchbook. What am I doing? Sleuthing? No. Snooping . And totally procrastinating on Kimono Girl.
I open my sketchbook and review my storyboards so far. The first panels focus on Kimono Girl alone. She looks a little like me, but slimmer and minus the black frame glasses. She browses racks of kimonos and tries one on. She crosses the right lapel over the left as she stands before a bad painting of a farmer and sheep that hangs in the dressing room. She fades away from the real world and falls into the world of the painting, landing in the farmer’s field.
At first, feeling trapped, she panics. Then she tries crossing the lapels left over right and ends up back in her world, in the shop. She buys the kimono. The next few panels show her practicing her skill, increasing her speed and confidence, with paintings in her parents’ house and then in art museums. Once she gets her bearings in the art, she can train her eyes to see out into the world she’s left. That’s when she decides to help solve a rash of
“So what would a thief do with the art?” I ask as Julian ushers me back inside.
Julian shakes out his umbrella and puts it in the stand in the hall. “Usually art thieves aren’t the brains. They’re doing dirty work for someone higher up. So the thief will probably pass the drawings on to some head honcho. Maybe he already has.”
I open my mouth to ask another question, but he says, “Look, kid, it’s been fun chatting, but I have to get back to the party.”
“Sure. Thanks for the info. Hey, can you tell me where you put my bags?”
Julian leads me over to his desk, behind a partition that screens it off from the gallery.
“Mind if I use your desk for a while? I have a project I’m working on.”
Julian grudgingly shifts a few binders out of my way. Then he leaves me alone.
I take out my black, spiral-bound sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. Julian’s desk displays only binders, auction house catalogs, a computer screen, and random Euro-style office supplies. Also a notepad with Margo’s gallery logo at the top.
In Vampire Sleuths 37, best friends Kyo and Mika break into the school principal’s office at night (which is the only time they can sleuth, being vampires). Searching for clues to solve a computer-hacking case, they find a blank notepad. Kyo puts a sheet of paper on top of it. He rubs that top paper with a pencil until a numeric code emerges. Mika deduces that the code was written on a previous sheet of paper on the notepad; the pen left the imprint on subsequent pages. The code turns out to be a password for the school’s computer system.
Maybe that rubbing trick works in real life. And I’m curious about what Julian might take notes on, since I’m using him as a character study for Sockeye. I take a piece of tracing paper out of my backpack, lay it over the notepad, and rub it with my pencil. Imprints of letters and numbers appear. I pick out the words in slanting handwriting:
*PICK UP SUIT!*
CALL MOM
KAZOO 6:30
2535554612
Most of the notes seem obvious, except “kazoo.” Is he taking some adult education class like “How to Loosen Up and Be a Fun Person”? That string of ten numbers intrigues me, though. It might be a phone number. Two five three is a Tacoma area code. Who would Julian call there? Feeling daring, like a professional sleuth, I pick up the phone and dial.
“You have reached Pierce County Realty. Please leave a message, or call back during our regular business hours, which are . . .”
I hang up fast and shove my notepad rubbing into the back of my sketchbook. What am I doing? Sleuthing? No. Snooping . And totally procrastinating on Kimono Girl.
I open my sketchbook and review my storyboards so far. The first panels focus on Kimono Girl alone. She looks a little like me, but slimmer and minus the black frame glasses. She browses racks of kimonos and tries one on. She crosses the right lapel over the left as she stands before a bad painting of a farmer and sheep that hangs in the dressing room. She fades away from the real world and falls into the world of the painting, landing in the farmer’s field.
At first, feeling trapped, she panics. Then she tries crossing the lapels left over right and ends up back in her world, in the shop. She buys the kimono. The next few panels show her practicing her skill, increasing her speed and confidence, with paintings in her parents’ house and then in art museums. Once she gets her bearings in the art, she can train her eyes to see out into the world she’s left. That’s when she decides to help solve a rash of
Readers choose
Liliana Bodoc
Sara Blædel
Michael Bishop
Andre Norton
Christopher Moore
Dietmar Wehr
Beth Kendrick
Peter Geye
G. A. McKevett