Authors: Duncan Ball
Selby put the package back on the step and calmly closed the door.
“Hmmmmmm. Ticking, eh?” he said, scratching his chin the way Inspector Quigley did. “Very curious.”
Then he remembered the package that mysteriously appeared in the episode of
Inspector Quigley’s Casebook
called,
The Case of the Mail Order Massacre.
“The ever-cool Inspector Selby refuses to panic. He will not jump to the conclusion that someone has mailed a bomb to the mayor,” Selby said. “What I need is one of those sniffer dogs that can smell explosives. Come to think of it maybe I
am
one of those sniffer dogs that can smell explosives.”
Selby threw open the door and put his nose to the package.
“Pheeeeeeeeew! That smells awful! And what’s this?” Selby said, opening and reading a note that was stuck to the package.
“‘Dear customer,’” he read, “‘We do hope that this doesn’t go off before you receive it.’ Go off? Does that really say ‘go off’? Yes, indeed it does and Inspector Selby has just reached the inevitable and inescapable conclusion that this package right here before him contains an article known in detective circles as a bomb. Yikes!”
Selby slammed the door and dashed to the TV room, putting his paws over his ears.
“A bomb! A bomb on the doorstep!” he screamed. “It’s about to go off! It’ll blow the house to bits and me with it! I won’t live to
chew another Dry-Mouth Dog Biscuit! Help! Save me!”
Selby lay there for a minute wondering how to get out of the house without passing the package. Suddenly he straightened himself up.
“I can’t just run away. This house is filled with all of the Trifle’s valuable belongings. Not only that, the Trifles themselves might return home just before the bomb goes off. I’ve got to disarm it.”
Selby grabbed the video tape of the Inspector Quigley episode about the bomb and fast-forwarded it to the part where the inspector told a roomful of policemen about bombs.
“The simplest thing to do with a package bomb is to smash it against the ground,” Inspector Quigley told them.
“That’s it!” Selby squealed as he dashed out the front door and lifted the package over his head."Why didn’t I think of it.”
“The problem with this,” he heard Inspector Quigley say, “is that it will probably explode if you do. All of which goes to show that the simplest answer isn’t always the best answer.”
“Crumbs!” Selby thought, putting the package back down.
“A direct approach is to rip open the package and get to the mechanism,” the inspector continued, “and find out how it works.”
“Done!” Selby said, tearing off the outer layer of paper.
“But of course some package bombs are made to go off if you do this,” the inspector added. “Sometimes the direct approach isn’t the best method.”
“Good point,” Selby said, stopping in mid-tear.
“Alternatively, you could soak it in water,” Inspector Quigley said, scratching his chin. “Water will ruin a lot of explosives.”
“Of course!” Selby said and he ran into the garden, grabbed the garden hose and started spraying the package.
“But, sadly,” Selby heard Inspector Quigley say, “some bombs go off when they get wet and there’s no real way to tell if yours will or won’t.”
“You’ve got to be kidding, Inspector!” Selby screamed, blowing furiously on the package to dry it. “Stop telling me what I
can’t
do and tell me what I
can
do!”
“The fact is,” the inspector said, “that anything you do to a bomb could set it off. Sometimes, running away is the only answer.”
“But the house, Quig? I can’t just let the house blow up,” Selby thought. Then he thought again,“Oh, yes I can!”
Selby was halfway out a back window when he heard voices at the front door.
“Oh, no!” he thought. “The Trifles are back!”
“Look! This must be the cheesecloth I ordered,” Mrs Trifle said, removing some of the paper from the package.
“Goodness me,” Dr Trifle said, “look at the mess Postie Paterson made of it. It looks like it’s been dragged through a mud puddle.”
“I can’t let her open it!” Selby said. “I’ve got to warn the Trifles even if I give away my secret forever! — even if I have to be their servant for life! I’ve got to
save
them.”
Selby dashed into the lounge room and grabbed the package in his teeth.
“It’s a bomb!” he cried in plain English, but it came out more like
hhhhuuuuuummmmmmmbbbb
because of the package in his mouth.
“If I’m not mistaken, he wants to play toss and catch,” Dr Trifle said, watching Selby hurl the package out the window.
“Speaking of mistakes,” Mrs Trifle said, looking in the garden where the package had split open, spilling its contents on the grass, “those silly-billies at Healthnut didn’t hear me properly. Instead of cheesecloth, they sent me some cheese and a clock — and the cheese smells like it’s gone off. Phew!”
“I don’t think it was a good idea to invite Ralpho to do his show for the boy scouts and girl guides of Bogusville,” Mrs Trifle said to Dr Trifle. “He’s simply not a good performer. He just gets too nervous.”
“Ralpho’s got to learn to face an audience without going to pieces,” Dr Trifle said, referring to his magician friend, Ralpho the Magnificent. “He’ll never be a success as long as he gets so flustered. I just thought it would be good practice for him to entertain some very polite country children in the friendly atmosphere of our home. It’ll give him confidence and the kids will love it. Besides, he
says he’s got something exciting to liven up his act this time.”
“I’m just afraid he’ll pop his cork the way he did the last time,” Mrs Trifle said. “I think he was better as an inventor than as a magician. But we’ll see …”
“We
will
see,” Selby thought."I’ll get to see it too. Oh boy, oh boy, I love magic shows.”
And so it was that Ralpho the Magnificent arrived at the Trifles’ house and set up all his magic gear just in time for the busload of children to come running into the lounge room and sit quietly on the floor. All of which would have been perfectly okay if Aunt Jetty hadn’t also heard about the show. This still would have been okay if she hadn’t dumped her disastrous son Barnstorm Billy outside.
“I have some errands to run,” she told Billy as he ran for the Trifles’ door. “You go in and have a good time. I’m sure the Trifles won’t mind one more little pair of eyes and ears.”
“Magician?” Billy said in a loud voice just when Ralpho was about to pull a pigeon out of a hat."I don’t want to see a stupid old magician!
I thought it was a
musician.
I want to see somebody play the drums.”
“You just sit there quietly, Billy,” Mrs Trifle said politely."I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”
“Why oh why,” Selby asked himself, “did Aunt Jetty have to bring bratty Billy? He’ll spoil everything for sure.”
From then on, things went terribly wrong. Ralpho pulled the pigeon out of the hat but it took one look at him and bit him on the finger. Billy burst into laughter and everyone else joined in. Then Ralpho juggled three flaming torches until he caught one by the wrong end.
“Good one, mister stupid magician man!” Billy roared as Ralpho plunged his injured fingers in a glass of water."Was that hot enough for you?”
Now Ralpho was angry and nervous —
very
angry and nervous. But the final straw came when Ralpho’s mummy broke down.
“And now,” Ralpho said, putting on a turban and holding up his hands for silence, “one of the mysteries of the pyramids: the walking mummy.”
Dr Trifle pulled back a curtain and there stood a mummy case covered in mummy-writing.
“Struth!” Selby thought. “This is great! Ralpho really is a good showman.”
“Here in this box,” Ralpho began, “is the mummy of Amen-hop-rope, a king who lived four thousand years ago. He died a terrible death when he was tricked by his slave, Tut-tut-tutmose. One day when he was quite tired of the king, the slave said, ‘Oh, master of masters, you are so magnificent I’m sure you can walk on the waters of the Nile.’ The king, believing his slave, stepped into the river — and sank like a stone. He not only couldn’t walk on water he also couldn’t swim a stroke. Do you hear me, Am en-hop-rope?” Ralpho said and the lid of the mummy box flew open making the girls and boys gasp with delight.
“Crumbs!” thought Selby, when he saw the bandaged figure in the box. “It’s fabulous! The mummy looks real!”
“It’s not a real mummy and don’t pretend it is!” Billy yelled out. “And you’re a cheater, mister cheathead!”
“Quiet!” Ralpho said angrily, and then he turned to the mummy.
“Great
Amen-hop-rope, I Tut-tut-tutmose, say you are a fool.”
As soon as Ralpho said the word
great,
the mummy’s arms shot out and he started walking slowly towards Ralpho, who turned sideways and smiled at the startled children.
“Real mummies can’t walk,” Billy screamed. “Their legs are wrapped together!”
“Oh, yeah?” Ralpho said. “If you’re so smart, tell me how it walks.”
“It’s got a voice-thing in it,” Billy yelled. “When you say
great
it moves.”
“I hate to admit it,” Selby thought. “But I think Billy’s right. It’s a voice-activated robot. A very clever robot nevertheless.”
“Quiet, kid,” Ralpho said, turning quickly as the mummy was about to grab him around the throat. “Oh,
wise
Amen-hop-rope,” he said, “please forgive your humble slave.”
The mummy dropped its arms and started back towards the box.
“You said
wise
extra loud,” Billy yelled, “and that made it go back to the box.”
“Did not!” Ralpho said, turning red as a beetroot.
“Did so,” Billy answered. “It’s a fake, mister faker! Watch this.
Great!”
Billy yelled and the
mummy turned around and started back in Ralpho’s direction with its arms outstretched.
“The brat is right again,” Selby thought. “The robot’s programmed to go one way when it hears
great
and the other way when it hears
wise.
“
“Wise!”
Ralpho yelled and the mummy turned again.
“Great!”
yelled Billy. “It’s just a robot.
Great! Great! Great!”
“Wise! Wise! Wise!”
Ralpho screamed, bursting into tears. “Get out of here all of you! Go away! I never want to see any of you children again!”
Dr and Mrs Trifle quickly shooed the frightened girls and boys out the front door to where their bus was waiting, while Ralpho chased Billy round and round the room.
“When I catch you,” Ralpho screamed, “I’m going to give you a spanking you’ll never forget!”
“I’ll tell!” Billy yelled back. “My mummy will spank you, mister sillyhead!”
“This is crazy,” Selby thought, running for safety just as Ralpho caught Billy by the neck
and started to shake him. “Ralpho’s really done his lolly this time. He’ll strangle the kid if someone doesn’t stop him!”
“Great! Wise! Great! Wise! Great!
Wise!” they yelled, as Amen-hop-rope turned in circles and put his arms up and down so fast that his bandages began to unwind. In a minute he was a shining silvery robot with smoke pouring from his head.
And in the heat of battle, Ralpho throttled and Billy kicked and both fell silent, not noticing that Billy had got one more
great
in and that Amen-hop-rope was walking towards them with his arms out. In a second, the robot had them both by the throat, one in each hand.
“Wiiiiii-glug-glurg!” Ralpho said, struggling to say
wise.
“Wurg-glurg, gleeeeeeg!” Billy said, also trying to say
wise.
“Help!” Selby thought, looking out the window where the Trifles were putting the last of the children on the bus. “If someone doesn’t call off the metal monster there are going to be questions asked — and Ralpho and Billy won’t be doing the answering! I’ve got to do something!” he thought, biting Amen-hop-rope’s leg and hurting his mouth in the process. “I’ve got to talk! My secret will be out, but I’ve got to do it! If only I can get to where Ralpho and Billy can’t see me speak …”
“
Wise
!
Wise
!
Wise
!” Selby screamed.