TAF2021 | CHILDREN’S SHORT STORY COMPETITION AWARDS
Congratulations to all our amazing young writers!
Announcing the winners
The TAF2021 Children’s Short Story Competition brought a tidal wave of creativity from our young writers. Nearly 100 entries were received from the Huon Valley, wider Tasmania, Victoria, NSW, ACT, QLD, SA and WA.
To select the winners, the stories were rendered anonymous, passed to one judge for shortlisting, then considered by three judges for a final decision. It was a competitive field, with the judges weighing the finer points of story, character and theme to arrive at their decision.
The judges, Tansy Rayner Roberts, Carol Ann Martin and Judi Rhodes, said:
A fantastic crop of stories this year. We are so impressed by the imaginations and talent of these young people. It was particularly great to see so many participants come to grips with the structure and traditions of a crime investigation story.
Congratulations to all the winning, highly commended and honourable mention writers. You did an amazing job!
WINNING AND HIGHLY COMMENDED STORIES
CATEGORY - OPEN TO AGE 16
Winning Entry
The Nightingale’s Last Song, Ruby Stephenson, Kenmore, QLD
Runners Up
Gemini, Lauren Bailey, Brisbane, QLD
An Un-fur-gettable Case, Eleni Chapman, Perth, WA
When You Piece Things Together, Lulu Lovell, Bundoora, VIC
Also Shortlisted
The Last Chance, Gemma Barnes, Woolgoola, NSW
The Seven Deaths of Black Swan Estate, Mailea Leary, Dover, TAS
The Tragedy of the Boleyns, Queenie Shi, Sydney, NSW
CATEGORY - YEARS 5-6
Winning Entry
The Gold Necklace, Enzo Sztejman, Caulfield South, VIC
Runners Up
The Disappearance of Cameron Sanderson, Mya Anderson, Cairns, QLD
The Robbery, Finn Connolly, Lauderdale, TAS
The Ghost Murder in the William Mansion, Lissette Shu, Surrey Hills, VIC
Also Shortlisted
A Crime From Right Under Their Noses, Alexia Chatfield, Toorak, VIC
4D Sleuthing, Aaron Lee, Hornsby, NSW
A Strange Family, Linh Le, Tighes Hill, NSW
CATEGORY - YEARS 3-4
Winning Entry
The Case of the Two Mysteries, Stephanie McGrath, Caboolture, QLD
Runners Up
The Missing “China China” (in the MONA), Nadrah Abdullah, NSW
The Cookie Thief, Charlotte Brown, Mornington, VIC
Also Shortlisted
Murder on the Wisp, Josie Richardson, Snug, TAS
Murder in Lilybrook Street, Makan Wang, Turramurra, NSW
CATEGORY - UP TO YEAR 2
Winning Entry
The Case of the Missing Gold, Asha Oliver, Heathmont, VIC
Runner Up
The Thief, Ethan Li, Castle Hill, NSW
Also Shortlisted
Lucky Boots, Jack Kelly, Beaufort, VIC
READ THE WINNING STORIES
CATEGORY - OPEN TO AGE 16
Winning Entry
The Nightingale’s Last Song, Ruby Stephenson
A path of yellow lights illuminated the lavish opera stadium. Walls lined in the softest red velvet, ornately designed pillars stretching to the ceiling, hundreds of esteemed guests flitting around in fanciful clothing. Bernice Bennett oozed with excitement as her parents slowly weaved their way through the crowd.
From the time she could walk, the Royal Opera House had become a second home to Bernice. The warm glow of lights, the dome shaped ceiling and England’s very own Nightingale: Madam Sherrie, comforted her like nothing else. Her voice soared through the cavernous stadium and pierced into even the coldest hearts. Bernice’s stomach was aflutter. The lights were dimming and the colossal curtains encasing the stage finally parted.
A bright white spotlight followed Madam Sherrie as she walked gracefully forwards with a bowed head. Her deep pink bodice decorated with white ruffles and bell sleeves blurred into an extravagant explosion of pink satin that trailed behind her. She was the picture of health and beauty; rosy cheeks, pink lips and eyes that shone as though reflecting moonlight. A beautiful melody drifted from the orchestra pit. The opera performer raised her eyes to the audience.
Bernice did not realise that she had been holding her breath until the first sweet note danced through the air. Madam Sherrie began. The entire audience—once raucous and distracted—were deathly silent. Not a murmur would dare to interrupt such captivation that entranced a crowd of four thousand. Bernice felt like a snake being charmed. The music washed away all her previous nerves and sailed her away. It was nearing the climax of the first act. Madam Sherrie exploded with the highest note yet when she was cut short. Nobody saw a person, few saw the hand as it lashed out from the back curtains but everybody saw the crimson blood trickling from the Nightingales slit throat. She stumbled forwards gasping for air. Reaching into space with milky eyes before dropping to the floor.
Dead.
The audience stared at her still body on the stage in shock. Somebody screamed and chaos broke loose. People were stampeding out of the building like a herd of wildebeest. One man rushed forwards onto the stage, muttering ‘no’ over and over again. Bernice and her parents were still sitting down facing straight ahead. Her heart was hammering in her ears. How could this be happening? It was then and there that Bernice decided this would be her breakthrough.
Since she was a young girl, she had always wanted to become the first female detective. So far, the most progress she’d made was setting up an office. Nobody would entrust real problems to her; nobody believed that she would be able to solve them. However, there was no question in her mind now as dark blood gurgled from the singer’s throat. She, would solve this case.
“Darling, we must get going.”
“No. I am staying here. You leave, I’ll be fine.”
The Duke and Duchess had emerged from their horrified stupor and were attempting to drag Bernice out of the opera house away from the crime scene. This was a crucial time in an investigation and she would most likely never get another chance to observe evidence and interview witnesses. Bernice lifted her head high and removed her emotions from this already overly complex equation. To discover the murderer, she needed to act fast.
Bernice made her way onto the stage as her parents departed arm in arm. The only local police officer—Constable George George—had arrived at the scene. Anybody with half a brain could see that he would be of no help to this investigation. His rotund shape was awkwardly standing off to the side offering comfort to the grief-stricken man sobbing. This in itself was a mystery. Up until now, the prince was only known to be involved romantically with one woman: his fiancée. Walking swiftly onto the stage, Bernice began an amateur investigation. She collected a sample of blood in a small vial as well as a saliva swab and some of Madam Sherrie’s hair. Blood had pooled around her form and soaked into her magnificent costume.
Kneeling in the centre of this mess was the prince. He did not notice Bernice’s approach and only startled slightly at her touch. His tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes said it all.
“Hello. I am Bernice Bennett, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Kensington. I will solve this treacherous crime but I need your help. Meet me in the royal box in fifteen minutes.”
The puffy eyes of a broken heart followed Bernice as she walked away to wait. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She never could have dreamed that an opportunity like this would’ve fallen into her hands—gruesome as it was.
The door to the royal box was encrusted in a gold design strewn with tiny shimmering leaves and flowers. It had plush seats and the best view in the entire building. Bernice could only get in due to her parents rather convenient friendship with the security guard. Staring at the second hand rotating on her watch, she waited patiently for the prince to come. The tinkle of a bell announced his arrival.
“I appreciate you joining me in these sensitive times. From what I have already been able to deduce, yourself and Madam Sherrie were secretly lovers. Am I correct?” A glance upon his face was like reading an open book.
“We were so much more. We were soulmates.” His voice cracked with a flood of emotion.
“Are you not engaged to Lady Purcell?”
“Yes, but I do not love her. I was to escape with my love this very night”
“Ah, I see. We must get to the bottom of this. Would you be so obliged as to come to Kensington Manor early tomorrow? There is plenty to discuss and no time to waste but exhaustion is yet to overwhelm you.”
“I shall be there. Goodnight.”
The weary man trudged from the royal box with a weak sense of hope.
Perhaps this strange girl could find justice for my love, he wondered as he left to return home to a dark house and cold supper.
Bernice rushed into Kensington Manor at an hour to midnight. The biting maliciousness of London winter had kept her wide-awake and rosy-cheeked. Waiting for her was her mother, incredibly worried for nothing good ever became of young ladies wandering around the streets at night.
“What kept you so long at the opera? I’ve worried myself half to death.”
“Constable George wished to interview any witnesses and you must understand his unorganised fashion. It took far longer than expected. I’m sorry mother, I should have called.”
“See that you do next time. I’m just glad you have returned safely however, you must go upstairs to bed at once.”
“Goodnight mother.”
Bernice hurried to the attic with a candle lit and fleece blanket in hand. There was not a chance of her sleeping tonight; the cogs in her brain were spinning out of control. Once atop the winding staircase, she opened the attic door and slipped inside soundlessly. Books were scattered all throughout the room, sometimes in neat piles but mostly strewn randomly across the panelled wood. It was a quaint room and could only fit a desk, two chairs and a bookcase but Bernice had filled in every nook and cranny. Tiptoeing between pillars of precariously balanced true crime tales and detective files, she sat down at the desk, brought out a fresh sheet of paper and began what was to be a long night of gruelling investigation.
The weak sunlight did not awaken Bernice however, the wintry rain pouring into the open attic window did. During the early hours of the morning she had finally given in to sleep still sitting at the desk. It had been a long night but Bernice did not feel she was any closer to solving her first mystery. Groggy and soaking wet she stumbled down the stairs to dress and wait anxiously for the prince to come by. She did not need to wait long as he arrived shortly after her waking.
“Hello Prince Wilton. Follow me to the attic and no need to worry about chaperones. My parents know this is strictly official business.”
He only gave a slight nod and walked behind the girl like a shadow. It seemed that a nights rest had done the prince no good; the bags beneath his eyes were like caverns and his skin was a sickly colour. Already his face seemed tightly drawn across his bones.
They arrived in the attic and slumped into two mismatched armchairs to begin.
“Firstly, I shall need to ask you some questions. What were you doing at the opera last night?”
“I was watching my love sing her last song before we were to escape out the back to be smuggled to China on a merchant ship.”
“Were you with anybody?”
“Yes, my fiancée would not let me go alone for she loves the opera.”
“Was your fiancée aware of your relationship with Madam Sherrie?”
“No.”
“You are certai-“
“I am certain.”
“How did she react to the performer’s death and your reaction?”
“She did not see my reaction. She went to the lavatory before the murder and only returned after I had finished speaking to you.”
“How did you and Madam Sherrie fall in love?”
“I still remember the first time I saw her so vividly. My parents took me to the opera last Christmas—what to watch I cannot remember. She flittered on stage like an angel. I met her afterwards and we walked around town all night undeniably infatuated with one another. It was difficult to hide my strong affections in front of my family and there was many a time where they suspected I was engaging in secret affairs. Then, after two glorious months, my parents decided to arrange with the Purcell family for their daughter and I to wed. I had no choice in the matter. While on the surface it appeared that the two of us were meant to be, I was still deeply falling for the sweet singer. During those times, I could sneak away at all hours of the night to spend time with Madam Sherrie. After my engagement with Lady Purcell, I could not seem to escape her. I could not even leave her behind me the night we planned the escape. I felt terrible imagining how she would feel when I left her at the carriage and never returned. Nevertheless, fate has repaid me for my wrongdoings and I shall never be happy again.”
He began to heave uncontrollably with guttural bellows of grief. Bernice sat back awkwardly and waited for him to finish before they could continue. All she could focus on was progressing the case and finding justice for Madam Sherrie. It took five minutes and a glass of water before he was functioning properly again.
“Please describe is your relationship with Lady Purcell.”
“In all honesty it is highly confusing. She mainly wants to marry me for wealth and I do not wish to marry her at all yet here we are; forced together by our parents. The conversation is awkward but we have managed to fool everybody into believing we were the finest couple of the season.”
An idea blossomed inside Bernice’s mind. Could it be possible that the murderer was a woman? One nobody would ever suspect. One that was trusted. One that could get away with murder.
“Has she ever had suspicious of your secret relations?”
“Not to my knowledge. Although she has been rather gracious of the whole situation, which leads to believe she had already some suspicion of what was occurring.”
“Does she know you are here?”
“Yes, she is picking me up in a quarter of an hour to prepare for our wedding.”
As if they had summoned her, a shrill noise echoed throughout the house to the attic.
“It seems she is early. I truly am sorry to cut this short.”
“Don’t be concerned, we had plenty of time. I shall escort you out.”
Bernice’s mind was working at a mile a minute. There must be some way to get evidence from Lady Purcell without arousing her suspicions, she thought.
A crime of passion and a crime of love do not always need evidence; whether she knew facts or only her own instincts Lady Purcell must be the murderer and Bernice would find a way to prove it.
Lady Purcell was undeniably a beautiful woman. The sharpness in her eyes and the forced-nature of her smile were the only visible indicators of the malice behind that vanilla-scented skin.
“Hello Lady Bennett, it’s so…wonderful to see you.”
She looked the younger girl up and down, sneering at her simple frock and shoes.
“Yes, you as well Lady Purcell. The prince and I were just discussing how you should come in for some tea. I have a cup prepared already.”
Bernice pulled a steaming cup of tea from behind her. Jerking her hand forward, she spilt it all over Lady Purcell’s outstretched satin glove.
“Oh how dare you insolent girl. You are lucky I have another pair of gloves for my wedding ceremony. We must be departing at once!”
“Wait. I am terribly sorry. Please let me redeem myself by washing and returning your glove. We have the finest lavender oils here imported from Sweden and Genevieve is a truly splendid launderer.”
“If you insist.”
She placed the soaked glove in Bernice’s hand and huffed like a bull before marching the poor prince away.
Unbeknownst to Lady Purcell, Bernice had just gotten hold of the key to her investigation. She skipped up to the attic to set up a forensic investigation. The chemist downtown supplied luminol by the litre; it would be no concern to test the glove, but first other DNA needed to be extracted. Fingerprints. Many were found on the opera house curtain and backstage that didn’t match to any of the crew members. If she could just have something to test them against, they might get closer to uncovering the mystery behind Madam Sherrie’s murder. Bernice couldn’t be certain this was the right track but it was better than nothing.
She carefully collected the fingertip samples from the glove, storing them away to compare to crime scene evidence.
Bernice tipped a litre of luminol into a bucket. If her suspicions were correct, the chemical compound would react with iron in the haemoglobin and detect trace amounts of blood in the fabric. She slowly lowered the glove; allowing it to soak in the liquid. Splotches of glowing blue light were splattered over it. This was enough evidence to confirm what Bernice had suspected all along. There was only one thing left to do and one place left to be.
“Do you, Lady Purcell, take thee, Prince Henry Wilton, to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part”
“I do.”
“And do you, Prince Wilton, take thee, Vera Purcell, to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part.”
“I-I-“
“STOP!”
Bernice burst into the wedding ceremony, waving Lady Purcell’s glove in the air like a madman.
“You must stop the wedding at ONCE. Vera Purcell is none other than the cold-blooded killer of Madam Sherrie.”
The crowd gasped in shock. Who was this strange girl, intruding on weddings and making absurd accusations?
“Please, don’t be ridiculous girl. You are interrupting the ceremony.”
“Must I spell it out to you in front of everybody?” The bride was silent.
“Fine. Lady Purcell, your family is in great debt. Your engagement to the prince secured you financial stability and welcomed you into the world of parties and pretty dresses. However, once you discovered the prince loved another your future in this world became…blurry. You turned to the only other solution you could think of. Murder. This was clearly a woman’s crime; a man could never think to subject their victim to such humiliation as you did to dear Madam Sherrie. Simply slipping backstage during the performance and slitting the singer’s throat then escaping by hiding underneath the stage while everybody panicked. As you didn’t wear gloves to commit the crime you left a number of fingerprints at the crime scene. When you were beneath the stage, wearing your gloves once more, blood dripped through the cracks and seeped into the fabric. I commend you on your excellent hand washing skills but luminol quite beats laundry powder.”
Bernice had to stop and breathe. The audience was completely silent. A shadow of understanding fell across Lady Purcell’s eyes as she realised there was no way out of this.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
The bride smiled but it didn’t touch her lifeless eyes.
“Well done.”
She bolted down the aisle, proving to the crowd that she was guilty. Bernice stepped to the side and let her run straight past through the large oak doors and straight into the beefy body of Constable George.
“Miss, ye’re unnar arrest. Put yer ‘ans behind yer back.”
“Ugh. Get your grimy hands off of me!”
The prince ran from the altar to Bernice to congratulate her.
“I never would have known it was her. I can’t begin to thank you enough. Have you ever considered becoming a proper detective? I’m sure I could figure something out to repay you.”
“That would be wonderful.”
Bernice left the church feeling elated. The first of many successful cases closed. All she needed now was a warm bath and a cup of tea.
CATEGORY - YEARS 5-6
Winning Entry
The Gold Necklace, Enzo Sztejman
A crash came from upstairs. I throw my messy lunch plate in the sink and instantly speed in that direction. Something must be wrong. I look around slowly, staying alert at all times. I turn the lights on. While I’m searching in my parents room for, well, something that can help me figure out what had just happened, I notice trace evidence of glass on the floor and when I look up I see a smashed window. I run to my mum’s drawer. Her priceless necklace is missing!
Oh no! but also Oh yes! Oh no because my mother's priceless necklace is gone but Oh yes because I am a huge fan of Mystery and Crime movies, especially the CSI series, and here I have a real crime in my hands. It's like fate chose this moment. This would be a dream come true for Jerry and the boys in my Chemistry class. Anyway, there is no time to lose.
I quickly start searching for clues that the robber might’ve left behind. I suddenly remember that my parents are coming home from their work trip tomorrow and mum would be furious and devastated if she saw that her necklace was gone. So it is now up to me to solve this case.
It just so happens that I have a ‘detective set’, which my grandma got me 10 years ago for my 8th birthday. At least it's something. Unfortunately there is only one piece left in the set, the Fingerprint Powder. I go to my room and search the perimeter. Sorry just trying to sound like a real detective. There it is, on my bedside table, the Fingerprint Powder. I grab it, then walk back to the contaminated site (A.K.A my mum’s drawer) and start dusting for prints. 1 minute passes, nothing. 2 minutes passes, still nothing. Finally, I see something, a few lines, so I keep dusting and a bit more of the fingerprint reveals. Within a few minutes, all of the print is visible. Now I've got what you call a latent print. I can’t believe that this old powder actually works. I’m going to hold onto it for the time being. Part one of my investigation, done and dusted! There are still many more clues I need to decode.
Subsequently I see a piece of paper on the floor right next to mum’s bed. It reads “20, 15, 16 19, 5, 3, 18, 5, 20 1, 7, 5, 14, 20”. I don’t have a clue about what it means but I’ll keep it. I keep searching for more evidence of the crime scene.
I notice that some weird type of gadget is lying in my mother’s room on the carpet and go check it out. It looks a bit like a watch, except that it has hundreds of buttons. I think that the robber dropped this, probably, while he was stealing the necklace. Then I see blood on the shards of glass from the window. I take a few pieces and put it in my stash of clues - the fingerprint, the note, the gadget and now the bloody glass. This all reminds me of Season Two, Episode Nine of CSI Miami so I go downstairs and turn on the TV. I fast forward to the part where the detective is close to solving the case.
That’s it! I’ll copy the detective. I’ll look in more places. In different parts of the house. I'm just so happy that I’m solving a real crime. I’m going to search for even more clues. This time, downstairs. Could he have escaped from the front door? A window? That’s for me to find out..
I shoot up and begin to dust the tiled floor with the powder I have left. The dusting is going longer than I expect and I’m starting to lose hope. Then I see a footprint! I grab the black tape from dad’s tool bag, hoping this will work as well as gel lifter which forensic detectives use. Fantastic, it works. I am actually holding another latent print. I can’t wait to tell Jerry. How weird, the toes are pointing away from the door so that means the thief entered the house from downstairs. How? I was eating lunch. I would've seen it. Could the suspect have been upstairs already before I started eating? If he entered downstairs that means he exited through the window upstairs. Then how did he survive? It’s a long way down.
You know what, I need to get some fresh air and maybe I’ll head over to the two dollar shop across the road to do something about my mothers necklace. I put on my jacket, in the middle of Summer. Melbourne is crazy. I arrive at the two dollar store and I see, right in front of me a gold necklace that, to be honest, doesn’t actually look like mum’s necklace but she won’t know the difference because she would never suspect it would be replaced. I place the plastic necklace on the counter. The bored looking man said “That will be $3.50 mate”. I reach into my pockets trying to find some money and to my surprise I find exactly $3.50. “Cheers bro” I gush. I rush back to my house, open the door, dash up the stairs and put the fake necklace in exactly the same spot it was in before it got stolen.
I just want to know who stole my mother’s necklace! It's dinner time. All this detective work is making me hungry. But maybe I should go downstairs and call the police first. I head down.
Then, all of a sudden, the front door opens. I scream so loud the neighbours eardrums could pop. It can’t be Mum or Dad.
He then appeared right in front of me. “Hello, you must be Scott?”
I’m thinking to myself ‘how does he know my name I have never seen him in my life. “I am a secret agent. My name is Adam and I was the one who stole your mother’s necklace”. “But why?”. In a deep voice he continued, “because this necklace is extremely dangerous and cannot be in the hands of an ordinary human. This necklace has a tracking device in it that is monitored by some very dangerous people. Probably the person who sold this necklace to your mother had no idea how dangerous it is. That’s why I need to take it. It will be safe in the hands of my crew. I hope you understand”. “Yes, I understand but one question. Could you just take the tracking device out so I can have the necklace?”. “Sure you can but I am going to need a decoy necklace to give to my boss.”
“I’ve got just the thing!” I fly up the stairs to get the cheap necklace and hand it to Adam.
He is pleased, “Perfect! Now buddy, you must promise that you won't tell anyone about me or about what is happening right now. Got it?”.
“Yes sir. I’ll get rid of the evidence at once. Oh, here’s your weird gadget thingy and a note I found on the floor. Could you tell me what it means”.
“Well, if you decode it, it says - Top Secret Agent.”
“Oh cool.”
“Thank you because for a while I thought I had lost those two things. By the way, you’d make an amazing detective.”
“Thanks. Bye!” I said.
“Till we meet again kid”. He then left.
Now I have the necklace in my hands. I went to my mum’s room and stared at the returned necklace and then closed the drawer. Did all that really happen?
I think I need a feast from Maccas. A great meal to top off a great day.
I go to bed full and exhausted.
The next morning I wake up feeling relieved that the crime is solved and I don’t have anything to worry about for the little time I have left of the holiday. I walk downstairs, fully dressed, ready for my parents to come home in just a few minutes. I set up my cereal and while I am about to have my first spoonful, my parents arrive home.
“Hi Scott!” They both exclaimed. “Hi Mum and Dad” I mumbled with a mouthful of Coco Pops. I’m trying to contain myself. It is so hard not to tell them. After I finish breakfast, dad asks “Hey, Scott, what have you been doing while we were gone?”. I simply replied “Not much, just watched TV and read some books”.
CATEGORY - YEARS 3-4
Winning Entry
The Case of the Two Mysteries, Stephanie McGrath
I skip through Old Ron’s peeling yellow gate. The smell of cake swims up my nose.
Then dirt. Dainty is digging intently in the yard. That dog never stops.
An hour later: “Morning tea was wonderful, Ron.” I say that every week.
I’m cautious going back through the gate – don’t want to be sprayed with dirt again.
Wait. There’s no dirt. There’s not even a Dainty.
Dainty’s disappeared!
“Ron, Dainty’s gone!”
“What do you mean Dainty’s gone?” There’s shuffling in the house and Ron appears at the door.
“She was digging here before and now there’s just pawprints leading out the open gate…” My sentence trails off because now I know what’s happened. I slap my forehead.
“Oh, man, I’m so sorry, Ron. I must’ve left the gate open.” Oops.
Ron isn’t mad. “Well, what are you doing just standing there, kid? Go find my dog.”
I know nothing about being a detective, and now Ron wants me to find his dog. That’s not going to happen.
“Ron, you see –,”
“Go find my dog!” I have no choice.
I start with the pawprints. They head out the gate, along the footpath, and into Dr Dan Daniels’ place.
We ring the door bell. Dr Dan appears almost immediately.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Ron. I have something urgent to ask you.”
Guess who is on the couch, tail wagging? You probably already know if you’ve been following the story. And I just gave it away because I said “tail”. Oops again.
“Dainty!” Dr Dan lives on our street, so of course he knows Dainty – she steals sausages. “I told you not to chew on that bone.”
He takes it away from her and shows us.
I can’t imagine that Dr Dan would know the first thing about bones. He’s a psychologist.
“This is a human femur.” He raises an eyebrow at Ron. “Why have you got human bones buried in your yard?”
Ron laughs nervously. He has a good way of pretending to be innocent. I raise my eyebrow too.
“Oh, all right,” He takes a deep breath. “I had a friend once – must have been in our twenties or so – such silly boys we were. We were drinking. My friend sat on the balcony railing.” Here he paused, not making eye contact with any of us, “and he fell and broke his neck. I buried him in my yard.”
My first thought is: Shouldn’t he have moved house by now? My second thought is: Oh. Wow.
“So you didn’t tell the authorities?” Dr Dan wonders.
Ron sighed. “No, I didn’t tell the authorities.”
“You do know that if you bury someone on private property, you get a big fine, and if you bury someone and don’t tell anyone, you can go to gaol?” Dr Dan is speaking slower now. This does not look good for Ron.
“You’re not going to let them take me away, are you?” But Ron was too late. Dr Dan was dialing 000.
CATEGORY - UP TO YEAR 2
Winning Entry
The Case of the Missing Gold, Asha Oliver
One day Alex the cat was playing with a bouncy ball when someone called for help through Alex’s cat tag. It was Katy, her gold had been stolen after her cat guard Callie fell asleep.
Alex went to the scene of the crime, a jeweller’s shop. She saw that someone had painted a skull and bones on the wall. She sniffed the wall and realised the paint was still wet, it had been painted one minute ago. She knew that it was a pirate that painted the skull and bones, there was a trail of gold and tyre tracks.
She followed the trail that led to the sea. Alex got on her surfboard and followed. Soon enough she found the pirate ship. She put on her swimming gear. She used her net to stop the engine and get the gold.
The only thing the pirate could do was turn back to shore. Alex called the police by pressing a button on her cat tag. The pirate went to jail. Alex was a superhero!