The G.C.L.A.P. Detective Agency

Hey! So...some of you might have already read this but others have not....Anyways, I hope you like my story!!!

 Stay Posted,

 Nina

 

The G.C.L.A.P. Detective Agency

Ring! Ring! Ring!

I sigh as I slam my hand down on my spyglass alarm clock. I remember when I got that; it was my fifth birthday. That birthday everything was wrapped in spy-themed wrapping paper, and it still is!  I have always wanted to be a detective. It wasn’t one of those things you love as a toddler and grow out of later in life. Nope, not for me; I still love spy books, toys, shirts, movies, anything spy related!

Spy stuff is the only thing I’ve held on to, really. My parents divorced when I was five. My dad died when I was seven.  My mom got cancer three years ago (when I was nine).  A year ago, she died, and now I live in an orphanage. Yeah, I kind of have a hard life. But you know, that’s okay; I can deal with it.

“Luna! Luna! Luna!  Look at this,” Paisley said as she walked into my room. “I figured out how to break into Mrs. Harlander’s security.” 

“That’s cool, Paisley. But can you figure out how to break into her computer?”

“Why?” Paisley asked.

“It has all of her contacts, her files, our grades  . . .” I replied.

“OK! I’ll get on it!!!!”

That was Paisley, my psycho-maniac, almost too literal friend. She is not the only crazy human in Harlander’s orphanage; actually, she is probably one of the more civilized students. I mean, compare her to Gemma or Clara.  Paisley is just a little hyper.  But that can be good too.  Gemma’s hyper too and she is really good at karate and the fact that she can fight has to do with her hyper activity.

Gemma, Clara, Ashley, and Paisley are all of my friends. We have each known each other since we were babies. We all came to Harlander Orphanage at the same time and immediately became friends, but have always been suspicious of our principal: Ms. Hilda Harlander. She is barely ever at school, and if she is, she is always in her office. The only time I remember seeing her is two years ago, when Martha, a kid who went to our orphanage, went missing.

            Ms. Harlander is only thirty-four years old, so she’s not in a rest home or anything like that. No one truly knows why she is always gone; either they think that she is taking a long visit to her old and frail mother, or she is staying home with pneumonia….However, I disagree with both beliefs. I think that she is up to something, something devious, something criminal. Or, she is trying to hide something, something that I don’t know yet. But one thing I do know is that I am going to figure out what Hilda Harlander is up to, and I am going to dig deeper, and deeper into her secrets until they pour down over my body like rain.

***

            Floorboards creak underneath my feet as I leave my room and walk towards Ms. Harlander’s office with Paisley; our plan is to break into her computer, look at our grades and then look at her files. We hope to find information about her past and present life, though we have no idea what we will find. CREAK… We open the door and cringe, expecting a three-headed dog, or rabid monkeys hanging from the ceiling. But there is nothing to see except a boring office with white walls, a gray swivel chair, a wooden table with a computer on it, and a couple empty bookshelves.

             I sit down on the dusty gray swivel chair and stare at the computer as I think, ‘There is nothing like first-hand evidence…’ Now I feel like Sherlock Homes with Paisley as Watson. I look at the computer screen. How am I going to get on? I don’t know Hilda’s password. ‘Elementary Watson, oh so elementary…. Look under the desk.’ I look under the desk and sure enough, on a little yellow sticky note are the words,

Password: 1312SMILEY

Thank you, Sherlock! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I type in the password as Paisley walks over to me; we both start looking for information. Ms. Harlander has no files though; it seems as everything has been deleted. Paisley says she’s found something, another sticky note, and it says that someone will be coming for Ms. Harlander on March   28; that’s today! I wonder why someone would write that?

A man walks down the hall past us but we haven’t seen him before. He is tall, pretty thin, with brown hair. Maybe he is the cleaning guy or something? I wouldn’t know who he is because I am not usually up this late. He turns into our room but doesn’t notice us; then he sits down on the floor and says to what seems like the wall, “Don’t come here again and you will be left alone.”  I get pretty creeped out, but then I realize that either he can’t see us, or he doesn't want to. Paisley leaves the room silently and I get annoyed. Why would Paisley leave me like this? The strange man turns towards me and I run out the door; I will lecture Paisley about deserting friends tomorrow.             

I run down the hall and try to confuse that peculiar man so he can’t track me down. I go left and right, down various hallways until I stop at a dead end. I look around me to try to figure out my surroundings, but there is nothing to see. It is just a hallway with no doors, windows, nothing!

The only thing there is to look at is the wallpaper; it’s bluish brown with red blotches. The thought that comes to my mind is blood; but it's probably not blood just some paint splatters. But then again, it doesn't feel like paint, this might sound weird but it actually feels like blood!

I walk back down the hallway trying to trace my steps so I can get away from those red blotches and get to my room. I ponder various routes that I would have taken to get here and eventually find the right one. I end up one dusty hallway away from my room. I hear a ruckus down the hallway, I would usually just keep going but right now I want to investigate. I peek into the room in which the noise is coming from and there are two people, a short stout man and the tall thin guy that I saw earlier.

“Adam, I asked you to find a simple key and you come back with nothing; what do you have to say about this?” The stout man said sternly.

“Percy,” the tall man whined, “I told you there was nothing in her office!”

It was now that I realized they knew I was watching them, it was the way they were talking; it seemed like they were acting out a play for me. I decide to creep away before they notice I’ve gone.

“Not so fast.” One of them says as he grabs my left arm.

Oh no, I burst away from the tall man’s grasp and run down the hall and into my room. I close and lock the door and grab my second grade piano trophy-- in case they get in I can whack them. I hold on to my trophy as I try to fall asleep.

***

I wake up with a terrible headache. I yawn and turn around to see the time, 3:07 am! Ugh, I fall back into my bed and think, How annoying is this! I have to fall back asleep all over again! Oh my gosh, I’m tired. I try to make my eyelids heavy, but there is no use, I won’t get back to sleep.

I get up and dress for breakfast, but then I remember, it’s Saturday; I can try to find those guys and maybe Gemma, or Ashley could help. I decide to ask Ashley first since she is closer, but actually neither she or Gemma would be any use; they would probably slow me down. They would ask too many questions and get sidetracked too easily, so I guess I’m not going to ask Ashley or Gemma. I head straight towards Hilda Harlander’s office.

I pass a couple boring offices until I end up peering into her bland white office; I sneak inside and sit down in the gray swivel chair. I type in the password and swivel backwards-in shock at what I see.

YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE LUNA

I am so surprised and scared that I decide to postpone more investigating until tomorrow; today I will take a break and go to town. I hurry back to my room and grab my coat. Then I scurry out the front door and head towards the local pastry shop, I had a yen for a croissant. It was only now that the tiredness hit me; I took the short cut through the alley instead of the long way. After a couple of stray dogs and trashcans I came to a corner instead of the pastry shop. I turn around and face the two men I had seen the day before.

“Hand it over, Hilda.” The stout one says.

“Who in the world do you think I am?” I scream back.

“You’re Hilda Harlander, the mischievous hider of the key.” The tall man replies.

“Why do you think I’m Ms. Harlander?” I

“Why wouldn’t we? You were in your office yesterday logged into your computer.” The stout man said surprised.

“Oh, well you see, I was in Ms. Harlander’s office to investigate on her computer.” I stated calmly.

“How did you get logged in?” The tall man inquired.

“Sherlock Homes told me!”

“Yeah, yeah, stop talking gibberish and get in the van.”

I struggled with all my strength to break away from their grip but they were too strong. It was no use; I couldn’t help it. I was being kidnapped.