The Fearless Three and the Case of the Missing Dog

The crisp, Christmas morning air hung heavy with the scent of pine and panic. Snow lay thick on the playground, untouched, for the worst possible news had broken over Fowey River Academy School: Charlie, the school’s beloved pug, was missing.

“Charlie gone? At Christmas time?” Aiden, fifteen years old and already a detective of some renown (in his own mind, at least), adjusted his deerstalker hat with a grim set to his jaw. “This is a case for Aiden, Pirran & George!”

George, his ever-loyal, if slightly less enthusiastic, partner, was busy meticulously polishing his magnifying glass. “But Aiden, it’s nearly Christmas. Shouldn’t we be wrapping presents?”

Pirran sat there drinking mulled wine… Actually it was hot grape juice but Pirran felt that it should have been wine!

“Duty calls, George!” Aiden declared, brandishing a dog-eared copy of ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’. “And a missing dog at Christmas? It’s practically a scene straight out of a detective novel!”

Their investigation began at Charlie’s usual haunt: the playground, where a forlorn, empty lead lay tangled in the snowy branches of the ancient oak. “Aha!” Aiden exclaimed, spotting a set of paw prints leading away from the tree. “Charlie was taken! Follow the tracks, Pirran and George!”

The tracks led them on a merry chase through the school. On the way, they saw Ming at her usual task of cleaning a mysterious patch of dirt that kept coming back (maybe a future case for the boy detectives). They discovered a stray tennis ball, Charlie’s favourite, wedged behind the trophy cabinet in the main hall. “He struggled!” Aiden deduced, eyes gleaming with dramatic intensity.

They followed the prints through the library, where a pile of overturned books suggested a chaotic scuffle. “He must have been trying to escape!” George offered, finally catching some of Aiden’s excitement.

Their next clue led them to the music room, where a trail of muddy paw prints led straight to the grand piano. Upon closer inspection, Pirran found a single, brown hair caught in the piano strings. “He played a tune for his captor?” Pirran wondered aloud.

“Or perhaps,” Aiden’s eyes widened, “he was trying to send us a message!” He dramatically struck a chord on the piano. It sounded horribly out of tune.

“Right,” George said, diplomatically, “a message.”

The trail finally led them to the school kitchen. The scent of roasted turkey hung tantalisingly in the air. And there, amidst a scene of utter devastation, lay Charlie.

Empty platters, ripped-open boxes of stuffing, and scattered cranberry sauce painted a picture of glorious canine gluttony. Charlie, belly full and a turkey leg bone clenched happily between his paws, let out a contented sigh.

“Charlie!” Aiden cried, relief flooding him. “You weren’t kidnapped, you were on a turkey-fuelled rampage!”

George, ever practical, surveyed the carnage. “This is going to be a nightmare to explain to Syd, the cook.”

Aiden, however, was beaming. “Another case cracked by Pirran & George and me! We may not have found a daring kidnapper, but we found our dog, safe and sound, and full of Christmas cheer… and turkey.”

As they led a slightly ashamed but thoroughly satisfied Charlie out of the kitchen, they heard a faint jingle. Turning, they saw a figure standing by the doorway, a twinkle in his eye. It was Nathan, the jolly old caretaker.

“Seems our Charlie had a little Christmas adventure of his own,” Nathan chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Left the kitchen door ajar for a moment, I did. Naughty dog.”

Aiden, Pirran and George exchanged a knowing look. Maybe this wasn’t a case of kidnapping, but it was still an adventure. And after all, what’s Christmas without a little bit of mystery, a whole lot of turkey, and a very happy, very full, Pug? The case of the missing dog was closed, and Christmas at Fowey River Academy was saved, albeit with a slightly lighter Christmas dinner than expected.