The Trunk of Stars: Stolen Treasures, #1

By Susie Dinneen

Who do you trust when everyone is keeping a secret?

When she was a baby, Cairo was found in a trunk by Agatha Mulch, a mean, thieving auctioneer. Now twelve years old, Cairo is desperate to escape Agatha's cruelty and find her real parents. She runs away and joins a group who are hunting for the golden scarabs. If she helps them track down the treasure, Cairo could finally discover the truth about her family. 

But there are others searching for the scarabs and unless Cairo faces her fears, learns who to trust, and finds the scarabs first, she might never unlock the mystery of her past.

The Trunk of Stars is the first novel in the Stolen Treasures series for readers aged nine to twelve. If you like Lemony Snicket and The Mysterious Benedict Society, you'll love this action-packed adventure by Susie Dinneen. 

Start reading today to see if Cairo can unravel the mystery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blue Moth Books
• Release date: Aug 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393980391

Susie Dinneen

Before Susie Dinneen became a writer, she was a reader, and before that she was a dreamer. Now she’s all of those things. She catches stories that flit and float through the air, which is what she’s really doing when it looks like she’s daydreaming (although sometimes she’s just daydreaming). Her first published book is Nombulelo and the Moth, a picture book for 4 to 8 year olds. It’s about love and being brave, even when there are leopards in the forest.  She’s currently working on the Stolen Treasures series of adventures for 9 to twelve year olds. The prequel short story, The Pickpocket and the Thief, is available for free on her website. The first Stolen Treasures novel is The Trunk of Stars.  She lives in Johannesburg, South Africa, with her husband, who’s a musician, and their cat, who pushes books off tables. One day she’ll have a library with a very comfy chair in it. She works as a creative director in a digital agency to fund her book habit. You can find her online at www.susiedinneen.com.

Book preview

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First published by Blue Moth Books 2019 Copyright © 2019 by Susie Dinneen

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

Susie Dinneen asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

ISBN: 978-0-620-84112-2

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Contents

1.The Collection

2.Speckles of Stars

3.A Flutter of Letters

4.Thief

5.A Secret Thing

6.Wrapped in a Hug

7.A Spy

8.Hidden Motive

9.Sarah Lilly

10.Photographs

11.The Golden Scarabs

12.Splinters

13.The Desert

14.Following the Stars

15.Touching the Past

16.Friends

17.A Feather

18.Lies

19.Bruises and Bones

20.A Sea of People

21.The Sting of Betrayal

22.The Value of Things

23.The Wooden Leg

24.Shards

25.Operation Marvellous

26.Blake Wood

27.The Wrath of Gran

28.A Promise

29.Pickpocket

30.A Stuttering Heart

31.Into the Darkness

32.The Brooch

33.Clouds Across the Moon

34.Golden Light

35.Other Lives

36.The Trunk of Stars

37.The Black Star Sneak Peek

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Through the greasy smears on the windscreen of Gran’s ancient truck, Cairo watched the town of Ashville. It crouched on the horizon, like it wanted to disappear. As they sped closer, she saw it was grey and dreary—like all the towns the Mulches had been to lately—the houses huddled together, trying to keep warm.

The people who lived in those little buildings didn’t stand a chance against Gran. She could sniff out anything valuable, and would stop at nothing to get her hands on it.

Gran aimed the truck at a puddle and cackled in delight as muddy water splashed on a woman pushing a pram. After a while, Gran brought her truck to a juddering stop in a small field outside the town. Uncle Ogden’s truck lurched up next to it.

Gran leaped out the driver’s seat and marched across the grass. Her voice cut across the open space. This will do nicely. She shouted orders to the Mulches to set up their tent. The sky was hung with heavy clouds, which were starting to rumble. They needed to hurry up.

The Mulches didn’t live in a normal camping tent; they had an old red circus sideshow tent. An antique, Gran liked to say. Means it’s worth more.

Aunt Griselda delighted in telling the children about the human mermaid who was once displayed in the tent. People came from around the country to stare at her. And she’d just sit there in her sparkly costume and stare back at them.

But there was nothing to stare at in the tent now, only patchy velvet that was wearing away. It had a variety of holes in different shapes and sizes for the icy wind to poke its fingers through, and soon the rain would bring out the wet dog smells that lurked in the folds. Cairo wished that Gran would just sell it and get them a real place to live.

Uncle Ogden and his son, Sammy, heaved on the creaking tent ropes while Aunt Griselda shuttled between the trucks and the tent, unloading pots and pans and small pieces of furniture. If Gran saw anyone not doing something, her stick would come down in a swift thwack to remind them to get going. The Mulches were all yelling at each other across the campsite, but they weren’t shouting because of the thunder rumbling overhead, it was just the way they spoke to each other.

Cairo hauled her trunk off the back of the truck. She loved that it had her name painted on the lid. Until a few years ago she’d even slept in it. She was too big for it now, but she had her own special corner of the tent where she liked to keep it, away from where the Mulches slept. They didn’t even have their own beds, they just squashed up on mattresses they hadn’t sold yet. If they didn’t have any of those, they got a blanket and pillow and made do on the canvas floor. Cairo usually curled up next to her trunk.

Once the tent was set up and the trucks were unpacked, Gran shouted, Collection time! Ogden, you and Cairo come with me.

What about me, Gran? Jojo’s eyes were wide with longing.

You stay here and watch the tent with your lazy mother, Gran hissed, pointing towards Aunt Griselda with her chin. And Sammy, you better’ve found some firewood by the time we’re back.

But Gran… Jojo whined.

Cairo hated doing collections with Gran, so she offered, I’ll stay here. Nobody heard her. She tried again. I’ll stay here, Gran.

Gran snapped around to glare at Cairo. Nonsense! You’re better than that wimpy child! Even though you’re so skinny and quiet. You’ll do what I say. Both of you. Get your coat, Cairo.

They all knew not to push Gran, so they obeyed.

Gran was wearing her pink hat with the silk roses stuck to it. It perched on her grey curls and made her look like a sweet old lady who liked nothing more than baking and knitting.

Cairo put on her grubby coat that had Mulch and Sons stitched on the back, and very big pockets, and trudged towards the truck. Jojo slouched back into the tent with her mother, wiping her teary face with her sleeve.

They headed into the small town, Gran leaning over the steering wheel, hooting and muttering, Outta the way, idiot. Cairo was squashed in between her and Uncle Ogden, who was scanning the houses, looking for the right spot.

Going on collections was one of the worst parts of her life with the Mulches. She often watched the families who came to the auctions. They looked at each other with kindness, and children weren’t afraid of their parents—or their grandparents.

She’d read articles in newspapers about thieves who were arrested and sent to prison, so she knew that what they did was wrong. Whenever she stole something valuable or difficult to conceal, she still got that small thrill in her stomach. It was the same as the first time Aunt Griselda had taken her pickpocketing in a busy market.

Cairo wished she didn’t feel that flutter of excitement. She knew that good people didn’t steal and lie. Good people like her parents.

In a few years maybe, when she was sixteen, and Sammy and Jojo could do a better job staying out of Gran’s way, she’d leave. Cairo was only twelve. The last time she’d tried to run away, she hadn’t made it very far. She needed to be older.

Eyes open, said Gran. Let’s start somewhere easy to warm up.

How about that place, Ma? Uncle Ogden pointed at a cottage tucked back from the street.

Looks good, son. She brought the truck to a stuttering halt and picked up a ledger from the dashboard. On the top of a page, she wrote the cottage’s address and thrust the book at him.

Her eyes softened. Come along, she said as she got out of the truck. She used her sweet voice, and she seemed to be shorter and smaller than she really was. Once we’re done we can go and have some tea. There’s even a little bit of cake. Doesn’t that sound nice?

Cairo knew there was never any cake.

Gran smiled and looked around as they walked up the path to the front door. Cairo didn’t want to do this. She hated it. A sharp jab in her ribs from Gran’s stick made her knock. After a moment, there was shuffling from inside and an old man with a lined face opened the door.

Gran gave him an innocent smile. Good afternoon, mister, ah… She looked back at Uncle Ogden, who looked in the book.

The old man said, Nanser.

Uncle Ogden scrawled the man’s name above his address.

I beg your pardon, Mr Nanser. Of course. We’re from Mulch and Sons Auctioneers, here for the collection, she said.

The man’s forehead furrowed into even deeper lines. Collection? I think that you might have the wrong place. I didn’t ask for any collection.

Gran took the ledger from her son and examined it. Is this 18 Chancy Lane?

Yes, that’s right, the man replied.

Well that’s odd. I’ve got you down in my book for a collection. She showed him the page with his name and address written on it.

There must be a mistake. His hands fluttered nervously to his face.

There must be. Well, I’m sorry to have disturbed you. It is a pity. Gran glanced over his shoulder into his home. You do have some lovely items. Even an Ido cabinet. They’ve got the most beautiful lines, don’t they? Would you mind if took a closer look? They’re so special.

She didn’t even wait for Mr Nanser to reply before stepping inside. Instead of examining the cabinet, she looked out the window. Such a pretty garden. Do you look after it yourself?

While she chatted to the man, Uncle Ogden pulled a dirty cloth from his pocket and pressed it against the cabinet. When he lifted it, a dark stain remained on the wood. Then he put a heavy hand on Cairo’s back and shoved her closer to the bookcase. She lightly lifted a silver ornament of a little dog and dropped it in her pocket without a sound. When she had first started going on collections, she was terrified that she would get caught. Now it was so easy she could have done it while heating up baked beans for supper.

On the shelf above it were two silver cats. She peered over her shoulder. Gran was still talking to Mr Nanser. When Cairo reached up to get the cats, Mr Nanser said, No, girl!

Her stomach turned liquid. She spun around.

Mr Nanser was scratching a wagging Labrador behind its ear. You’re so naughty to be in here! Back to the kitchen.

Gran smiled. You know, if you had some paler pieces the light from the garden would just dance through here. I’ve actually got a piece that would be perfect for this room. Blond oak.

Uncle Ogden widened his eyes at Cairo and nodded towards the bookcase. Quick as an adder, she reached up, grabbed the cats and shoved her hands in her coat pocket.

Her heart was still pounding as she surveyed the room for other small knickknacks she could lift.

Gran was in front of Mr Nanser’s cabinet. Oh gosh. That’s a pity. Her hand came up over her mouth, as if what she was going to say was too terrible to complete.

What is?

I should’ve known it was too good to be true. It’s an imitation, I’m sorry to say.

Pardon? But we were told… His hands quivered around his face again.

Too many people have been tricked with these Idos. It’s the hinges, you see. The originals have a lotus pattern pressed into the metal. There were thousands, tens of thousands, of these fakes produced—so many that they’re practically worthless.

His face turned pale and he stammered, but Gran didn’t wait before carrying on. Oh dear, and yours is stained too. She waved her hand at the mark Uncle Ogden had just made. If you sanded it off, the lacquer would be damaged beyond repair.

He bent to examine the mark but Gran put her hand on his arm and said softly, I was once sold a fake. I was furious at the man I got it from, and at myself for being so foolish! I never told anyone, of course, but every time I looked at it, I just knew it wasn’t genuine. For most people it wouldn’t have mattered, but for connoisseurs like us, well, it eats us alive, doesn’t it? Eventually I just got rid of it.

Cairo watched disappointment and confusion settle on the man.

Gran patted his hand again. I am so sorry, Mr Nanser. First we disturb you and then I ruin your day by telling you this cabinet is basically worthless. If only I could make it up to you.

She turned away. Cairo, Ogden, let’s—

Wait, he interrupted. That blond oak piece you mentioned. How much is it?

Cairo listened as Gran told him a story about how she had two collectors bidding for it, but she felt so bad that she’d give Mr Nanser a special price, especially as she hadn’t had time to clean it up yet. Before he’d even agreed to the deal, Uncle Ogden had gone to get the battered cabinet off the back of the truck. They’d found it at a deceased estate auction and it looked as if it were held together mostly by dust.

After they had Mr Nanser’s Japanese