The Broken Sun by Darrell Pitt

Doyle examining
a vent behind one of the tents. ‘This is it,’ he said. ‘The point of entry.’
    Roylott snorted. ‘That’s ridiculous. That shaft is still too small for a person to
fit down.’
    â€˜A young child, or an exceptionally small adult, could do it.’
    â€˜But how did they enter and leave the museum after hours?’
    The detective turned to Jack and Scarlet. ‘Do either of you remember anything unusual
about the professor?’
    â€˜He left very quickly after the robbery,’ Jack said.
    â€˜He practically disappeared ,’ Scarlet said. ‘I was quite surprised, especially considering
his age—and the weight of his bag.’
    The detective fixed them with a stare. Jack remembered watching the professor leave.
He had moved very quickly. Prior to the robbery he had struggled to drag his enormous
suitcase behind, but afterwards he almost ran away. An unpleasant sensation swam
in Jack’s stomach as the pieces of the puzzle came together.
    No!
    Scarlet squealed as the same thought occurred to her.
    â€˜Mr Doyle!’ she said. ‘You don’t think—’
    â€˜I do,’ he said. ‘I think the first theft was merely a decoy.’
    Inspector Greystoke shook his head. ‘I have no idea what you three are talking about.
What was a decoy?’
    â€˜This is what we believe happened,’ Ignatius Doyle said. ‘A man posing as Professor
James Clarke entered the museum. He was working with the criminals, who arrived shortly
after. They started firing their weapons, sending everyone fleeing or diving for
cover. The criminals broke into the display case containing the Cusco necklace. With
everyone facedown on the floor, the man posing as Professor Clarke carried out his
part of the plan.’
    â€˜Which was?’ Greystoke asked.
    â€˜To open his bag,’ Jack said, ‘and—’
    â€˜â€”release the person inside,’ Scarlet concluded. ‘They must have been very small.
They took refuge in the diorama while the criminals escaped. The police arrived,
investigated the scene, and the museum closed shortly after.’
    â€˜You mean he purposely left someone here?’ Inspector Greystoke said. ‘And none of
us knew it?’
    â€˜Why would anyone search for an intruder?’ Mr Doyle asked. ‘Everyone thought the
crime had already taken place.’
    â€˜When the real crime was to steal the piece of the Broken Sun after the museum closed,’
Jack said.
    Mr Roylott looked ill. ‘I ordered this section closed off after the robbery. The
staff normally run a security sweep of the entire building at closing time. But they
skipped this floor.’
    â€˜But why go to so much trouble to hide someone in the museum?’ Greystoke asked.
    â€˜I imagine it is much easier to break into the vault downstairs once you’re actually
inside,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Is that correct, Silas?’
    â€˜It is,’ Roylott confirmed, dabbing sweat from his brow. ‘The building is a fortress
at night. Nothing in. Nothing out.’
    Inspector Greystoke was now shaking his head in amazement. ‘And you’re saying the
thief stayed here overnight,’ he said, ‘and walked out scot free?’
    â€˜Not at all,’ Ignatius Doyle said, grabbing the arm of a figure in the exhibit. ‘The
thief has been standing here with us the whole time.’

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Jack’s mouth fell open as the saw the mannequin—or what he had believed to be a mannequin—spring
to life. The small man had been so silent, so motionless, that he had blended in
perfectly. He was slim and shorter than Jack, with dark skin and cropped black hair.
Over his shoulder hung a bag that could only contain one thing—the Broken Sun.
    When Mr Doyle went to grab him, the stranger delivered a kick to the detective’s
abdomen. Mr Doyle slumped to the floor. Inspector Greystoke came next, arms