Wilma Tenderfoot and the Case of the Putrid Poison by Emma Kennedy Page B

I’d be grateful if you’d get out of it. See the gentleman to the door, would you, Tully?”
    â€œBut I . . . but . . .” spluttered the Baron as he was bundled away.
    â€œRight, then!” sighed Barbu, taking a quick look about him. “Let’s make some money. Hmm. Is that an owl costume? Ooh . . . sequins.”

7
    â€œ N ow then, Wilma. I have a job for you,” Mr. Goodman announced.
    Wilma was sitting by the fire in Theodore’s study. Pickle was in the armchair opposite. Between them there was a small round table on top of which sat a Lantha board. (Lantha, for those of you not paying attention, is the favorite board game of all Cooperans. You can play it if you like—the board and rules are at the end of the book.) They had been trying to play since getting up that morning but, after Pickle had knocked everything to the floor for the third time, it had all ground to a halt.
    â€œI give up. That’s the last time I’m playing a board game with you, Pickle,” Wilma said, bending down to retrieve the scattered pieces. “And I’m not entirely convinced that you haven’t been cheating either.”
    Pickle looked sheepish. He had been cheating.
    Theodore leaned back into his chair and put his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets. “I’d like you to make me a Clue Board for this case.”
    Wilma’s mouth dropped open. This was by far the most important job she had been given during her apprenticeship to date. She had made her own Clue Board during the Case of the Frozen Hearts, but it hadn’t been an official one, so getting to make one for Mr. Goodman was an incredible honor.
    â€œNow, at present we don’t know whether the poison was taken by accident or whether it was administered with foul intent. If it was the act of an island Criminal Element, then it is highly likely that it was someone who works at the theatre. That’s not to say that it couldn’t have been administered by a member of the audience, of course—Barbu D’Anvers was present—but we should start by eliminating the people closest to the victim. Any one of them could have administered the poison before the performance. Inspector Lemone will give you the names of everyone who was there,” Theodore added, “when he’s finished eating biscuits.”
    â€œJust found a stray one in my pocket, Goodman,” spluttered the Inspector, trying to look innocent.
    â€œYou should find a chapter in your textbook about Clue Boards to remind you how to make one, so read that first. And then, when you’re done, perhaps you can give us a small presentation? We can call it a Case Review. Say in an hour, after lunch? If your Clue Board is clear enough, then I might let you transfer everything onto my board in the study. And then we can head over to the theatre. Time is of the essence. How does that sound?”
    Wilma nodded with some enthusiasm. “Thank you, Mr. Goodman.” She beamed. “I’ll get on it right away!”
    Well, this was a privilege! Jam-packed with a surge of get-up-and-go, Wilma ran off to her room, Pickle in tow, and opened her textbook. “Right, then,” she said, running a forefinger down the list of chapter headings. “Clue Boards . . . Clue Boards . . . Hang on. There’s a chapter in here called ‘Lost Relatives and How to Find Out About Them’! She quickly flicked to the relevant page.
    Relatives can be slippery and easily lost. The first thing you need to establish is whether they are lost or whether they have died in terribly sad circumstances. If they ARE lost, then you will need to find out who the last person to have contact with them was. Perhaps it was the milkman. Or a gentleman who came about the drains.
    Wilma stopped reading. “I’ll just make a note of that,” she mumbled, reaching for her notebook. “No time to think more about it now, though. I have to get on with