The Holiday Detective

By Dot Cherry

Misfit Private Detective, Newton Katz, tackles some awkward cases in his school holidays. He enters a world of celebrity cats, artistic geniuses, supernatural behaviour and sneaky subterfuge. His army of annoying brothers are waiting for any opportunity to trip him up and so is his nasty next-door neighbour. Can Newton work it all out in the end? Can he even work out whether the girl he likes likes him back? Detectives in his favourite books don't seem to have all these problems! Being a Detective can be funny, creepy and downright bewildering but always highly entertaining.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dot Cherry
• Release date: Nov 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386504795

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

It was a hot day and Newton Katz was feeling uncomfortable.  It would probably have helped if he hadn’t been wearing a three-piece suit but, as his Mother said, that was his choice even if wearing it to the beach was taking things a bit far.  He sat hunched in a deck-chair using the sun umbrella as a shield from sprays of sand and salt water. 

It hadn’t been his idea to go to the beach.  He loathed the beach, loathed the whole atmosphere of fresh air and heartiness and the complete lack of dress code.  He had tried to get out of going on the outing but it was Family Time and no excuses would be accepted.  He had tried to persuade everyone to visit a nice forest or a cave where at least it would be cooler and more peaceful.  His Mother was quite interested in his suggestions, if the truth be known she wasn’t a big fan of the beach either, but in a democratic family these things had to be put to the vote and they lost.  His brothers and his Father were very big fans of the beach.

He watched them now, leaping around in the sea, flinging seaweed, dunking each other underwater, fighting over the last unbroken body-board, bellowing and howling and generally having a tidal-wave of a time.  Mrs Katz had instructed Newton to keep watch and make sure his Father, ‘Mad-Dog’ Katz, didn’t get out of hand.  Mad-Dog was easy to keep an eye on, being high and wide and loud.  He had a tendency to get carried away and forget he was in a crowd of small children and not, for instance, on a rugby pitch.  Newton’s brothers, collectively known as the Kitz, all looked like scale models of their father but Newton took after his Mother’s side of the family, small and slight with the type of thin face and intense dark eyes you saw in old paintings above a Ruff collar.

After leaving her instructions his Mother went off to the shop on the excuse of getting snacks and was now enjoying a civilised coffee and a read of her book in peace.  Newton sighed and took a notebook out of his jacket pocket.  It was a handsome book with a smooth green leather cover, thick cream coloured pages and a thin gold pen which tucked neatly into the spine.  He loved old things, or anything that looked old such as this note book and his suit and the trilby hat his grandfather had given him which he wore low down over his face.  His name was also a link with the past, handed down through his Mother’s side of the family so that he had an Uncle and Grandfather also called Newton. 

He had spent a lot of time with his Grandfather and Uncle when his brothers were younger and he still looked on their home as a refuge.  He particularly loved the study with its musty old books and chunky dark furniture.  He loved to curl into one of the enormous leather armchairs and lose himself in a Detective story, fascinated by the characters and the intricate solutions.  Sometimes he found he could predict the solution before it was revealed which was thrilling. 

His Uncle and Grandfather would never dream of wasting a day by going to the beach and sitting around on the sand.  The only time they went down to the sea was in winter if there was an exciting storm to watch or to paint the landscape.  If they went on an outing they would always pack cucumber sandwiches and a flask of coffee.  They would stroll slowly along, their hands behind their backs, walking mostly in silence and stopping to inspect anything interesting.  This was a far cry from outings with the Kitz which mainly involved packing a sack-load of crisps and fizzy drinks and finding endless distractions to stop them punching each other.

He heard a commotion coming from the shore and looked up to see Mad-dog in an altercation with the Mother of a small boy sitting on an inflatable turtle.  Newton decided to stay out of it, took the little gold pen from the spine of the notebook and wrote his name on the inside cover in old-fashioned sloping handwriting.  He was tempted to compile a list of ‘top 10 reasons to dislike the seaside.’  He was fond of making lists, it was an outlet for all the petty irritations and frustrations of modern life.  This weekend he had been updating his list of ‘Top Ten Most Hated Words or Phrases’.  He had decided to move ‘omg’ back to the top spot, knocking ‘awesome’ into number two position. 

He checked on Mad-dog again and saw that the Mother was now biffing him round the head with the inflatable turtle while the child looked on with a bemused expression.  He sighed and hauled himself out of the chair and the shelter of the umbrella.  Immediately he was hit by shower of sand and water from a bounding wet dog.  He brushed his suit frantically with his hands and stormed down to the shore, shouting to his Father ‘Stop that nonsense!’  The woman stopped biffing Mad-dog and turned on Newton. 

‘Are you shouting at me?  He started it!  He started it, didn’t he?’ She looked at the tiny child for support and Newton felt a deep sympathy with it. 

‘You should keep him in order, he’s a menace to society!’  She plonked the child back into the turtle and pushed it away to the other end of the beach with furious backward glances. 

Mad-dog grinned at Newton and called out, ‘Thanks Son, I thought she was going to flatten me - wooah!’  He suddenly toppled over and sank underwater.  As he disappeared one of the Kitz came up laughing maniacally and shouting ‘Got ‘im!’ 

Newton walked gingerly back up the beach, trying to avoid any more dogs.

His Mother had finally returned loaded down with biscuits and crisps and chocolate and bottles of drink.  Newton got a small hoard of food together and retreated back under the umbrella. 

The day wore on but Mad-dog and the Kitz showed no signs of wearing out and became heavily involved in a game of ‘Shark’ which involved taking it in turns to sneak around underwater and bite each other on the legs.  Mad-Dog was eventually disqualified for drawing blood and started work on an enormous water trench.  A nasty wind began to blow up, whipping sand into people’s eyes. Dark clouds loomed, blotting out the sun, much to Newton’s relief.  People began to pack up and eventually even Mad-Dog was persuaded to call it a day.

Back at the house Newton was enlisted to go and get Fish and Chips, currently number two in his ‘Top Ten Most Hated Chores’ list.  It wasn’t as if he even liked Fish and Chips.  Or Pie and Chips.  Or Chips.  He went without complaining though as he had an important reason to keep on his Mother’s good side.

As he walked back, holding the reeking bag as far away from his body as he could, he heard raised voices and saw Matthew Maristowe across the road, apparently having an argument with his girlfriend.  They were standing on the drive next to Matthew’s superb new car, a present from his parents for getting a place at Oxford University.

Matthew was clever and sporty and handsome and actually a surprisingly nice person despite all that.  Newton had been watching from his window the other day when Matthew’s father unveiled the car on the drive.  Matthew’s younger brother Max tried to get in behind the wheel but his Mother held him back with a protective cry of ‘certainly not!’  Like his brother, Max was handsome and sporty and clever.  Unlike his brother he was not a nice person.  Not a nice person at all, in Newton’s experience. 

The car was a gleaming white sports model with a black soft top and a personalised number-plate – M1 OWE.  His girlfriend had been there as well and had gracefully slipped into the passenger seat, looking completely at home in such an expensive car.  Matthew hopped in and they roared off down the road, the girl’s long hair streaming out behind and her wild laughter rising above the engine noise.

Well that was then but she wasn’t laughing now.  She was shouting at Matthew and didn’t seem to care who heard. 

‘I don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about it!’ 

Matthew said something too quiet for Newton to hear.

‘So you’re more bothered about your car than you are about me!  Fantastic!  Thanks for that, now I know where I stand!’

Matthew put out a soothing hand towards her but she turned away and stormed off down the street, perfectly poised on stiletto heels, shaking her hair in a fury.  Matthew took a few steps as if he intended to follow her then stopped and watched her go with a look of complete devastation.  Newton couldn’t remember seeing him look unhappy before, it just didn’t suit him.  Suddenly a horribly familiar voice rang out across the street.

‘Hey Einstein, shall I get you a chair so you can make yourself comfortable while you spy on my brother?’

Newton looked up and saw Max Maristowe leaning out of his bedroom window.  Embarrassed at being caught listening Newton dived into his house and slammed the door on the horrible sound of Max’s laughter.

CHAPTER 2

His Father and brothers ate their Cod and chips out of the paper with hearty enjoyment and lakes of tomato sauce.  Newton delicately removed the batter from his Plaice with a fish-knife and discarded it with his chips where it was immediately snaffled up by one of the brothers.  By the time he had finished squeezing lemon over the fish the others had eaten theirs and were calling out for dessert.  His Mother, known everywhere as ‘K’ brought in a huge plate of profiteroles and a jug of cream.  She bravely fended the Kitz off with a wooden spoon while dividing the profiteroles equally. 

‘So’, said K, as Newton took tiny nibbles of the profiteroles, ‘what plans have you got for the holidays Newt?’ The Kitz’s holiday plans were already taken care of.  His Mother had booked a full programme of sports clubs, cookery classes, bricklaying, ballroom dancing and basic car maintenance.  She knew from previous experience that the Kitz would be expelled from all these activities after the first couple of days but at least that was a couple of days of peace out of the long holiday.

His Mother always asked him what his plans were at the start of the holiday and generally he didn’t have much of an answer but this time he was ready.  The green notebook wasn’t the only preliminary step he had taken.  He had persuaded his Cousin, Chris ‘Loaf’ Baker, to leave off sunbathing in the park for a couple of hours and make him some business cards.  Loaf was an Art student and played drums in a band.  He had been very positive about Newton’s plan though possibly he wasn’t the best judge as he tended to base his opinion on whether something sounded exciting and fun, not if it was a sensible idea.

Newton put his fork down and covered the bowl with his hand to stave off any attacks on his food.  ‘I have got a plan actually,’ he started, ‘I’ve decided to –‘

‘Circumnavigate the globe?’ asked a Kitz

‘No. I’ve decided to –‘

‘Get a tattoo and shave your head?’ asked another Kitz

‘Be quiet and let him speak!’ said K

Newton started yet again. ‘I’ve decided to - ’

‘Have you decided to do that self-defence course I showed you?’ K butted in.

Mad-dog had constructed an impressive tower of profiteroles and now impaled a whole profiterole on his fork and started to insert it into his mouth. ‘I thought you wanted him to speak’, he laughed at K.

‘Sorry Newt, what did you want to say?’

‘I’ve decided to -’ he waited for the next interruption but it didn’t come so he ploughed on, ‘... set up a Detective Agency.’

Even the Kitz were silenced by that.  K stared at him.  Mad-dog unclamped his teeth from the profiterole. ‘Eh?’

‘A Detective Agency’, Newton repeated enthusiastically.  He took one of the business cards out of his pocket and handed it across the table to Mad-Dog but K intercepted it and read it out loud.  ‘Newton Katz, Consulting Detective.  Homicide, fraud, divorce etc.’  She sounded baffled.  ‘What does this mean?  What do you mean ‘Homicide’?

‘It’s American for murder Mum.’  Said a Kitz, helpfully. 

‘And what do you mean ‘Divorce’?  What do you mean ‘Etc’?  What on earth do you mean?’

There was total silence for a moment as all eyes fixed on Newton then suddenly Mad-Dog pointed his fork and profiterole at Newton and gave a huge shout of laughter.  ‘Ha!  Good one Newt, you had us all going there for a minute! Homicide!  That’s hilarious!  Isn’t that hilarious K?  Eh?  Ha ha!’ 

Newton remained stony-faced and Mad-Dog stopped laughing.

‘Aren’t you joking?’

‘No, I am not joking, Father.’ 

He could feel his Mother’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and summoned up the courage to look at her.  On a scale of 1 to 10 her glare would have scored an 11.

‘When exactly did you decide this Newton?’

‘Oh, quite a while ago. I’ve been working on the idea for some time.’ 

No, I’m sorry, you can’t just decide to be a ‘Detective’.  This isn’t a story you know, it’s real life.’

‘Well I think you should give me a chance.’ Newton made an effort to sound reasonable and calm.

‘But what’s the point?  You could be doing something useful, something towards your future.’

‘Your Mum’s right’ said Mad-Dog.  You’re not going to learn anything skulking around the streets with a pair of binoculars and a pot of invisible ink.  It’s not like in books you know.

"Yes, I do know Father.  It’s a proper job which is why I want to have a go at it.  It will give me a new perspective on life, mixing with different people and so on."

‘Well that’s another thing’ said his Mother looking concerned, ‘you could find yourself mixing with some serious criminals.  You won’t have the experience to know how to deal with them.  Come to think of it, I think Private Detectives aren’t always very nice people themselves.  Snooping around, spying on people and taking secret photos – I don’t want you doing that sort of thing.’

‘Omg, that sounds awesome!’ said a Kitz.  ‘I’ll help you