The Riddle of Dr Sphinx

  For Andrew and Granny Elspeth with love

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  The problem: My old bike. I am growing too big for it, but we can’t afford a new one as Dad is off work with a broken leg.

  The brainwave: Ask Mr Maini at the corner shop if he has a paper round so I can save up for some new wheels.

  The dilemma: There is a paper round, but it takes in Weir Street and I’ve heard that the people who live there are weird.

  The hero: Me, of course. Jonny Smith. I’m not scared – it’s only a paper round. And just how weird can the people in Weir Street be…?

  Chapter One

  It was Monday morning and I was cycling to Mr Maini’s shop to collect the papers for my round. I have to get up early to be there on time, and I find it really hard. But Mr Maini’s always smiling and cheerful.

  Not today.

  “Ah, there you are, Jonny,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve received a complaint about you from one of my customers.”

  A complaint? I thought hard. What had I done?

  “Er, some of the Weir Street numbers are a bit strange,” I said. “Did someone get the wrong paper?”

  “No,” said Mr Maini. “But there is someone who has to look in his garden for the paper every morning because it doesn’t get delivered to his house.”

  “Oh,” I said. “That’ll be Dr Sphinx, the archaeologist, at number 36.”

  Mr Maini nodded. “He doesn’t mind in dry weather, but when it’s raining his paper is a soggy mess.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I hadn’t thought of that. But don’t worry, I’ll take it right up to the front door today… If I can find it,” I added under my breath.

  “Good,” smiled Mr Maini, and handed me my big orange bag.

  But it wasn’t good.

  The truth is, I have never actually seen Dr Sphinx’s house. Never even got close to it. As soon as I open the creaky gate, I start to feel shaky. The garden is so overgrown it’s like entering a jungle. Tall grasses brush my ears, and spiky plants tug at my clothes. Enormous spiders swing past and leave webs that cling to my face and hair. I brush them away immediately, but I’m sure I can feel millions of spiderlings scuttle down my neck.

  Then there are the strange rustlings. Sounds that say something scary is lurking in the undergrowth, just out of sight, ready to pounce… That’s why I always throw the paper in the direction of the house, and get out of there … fast.

  But now Dr Sphinx has complained, so that won’t do. Now I will have to open the creaky gate and wade my way through the shoulder-high grass. Now I will have to do my best to ignore the strange rustling sounds and the spiders’ webs. Now I will have to try to find the front door of number 36, deliver the paper, and somehow get back out of there alive…

  I slung the orange bag over my shoulder, jumped on my bike and headed for Weird Street. I stopped at number 13 to deliver Captain Cross-eyed’s paper. Scarface Jack, his one-eared cat, was sitting on the doorstep, but the huge pirate was nowhere to be seen.

  I delivered a few more papers before I got to number 34 and a half. Mr Tipp the inventor and his robots live there. His house is built right into the side of the hill and has an oak door that used to belong to a castle. There’s no letter box, so I always leave the paper in the old milk churn on the step. Today, I didn’t see Mr Tipp or any of his robots, but I did hear a muffled explosion coming from inside the house.

  “Mr Tipp’s busy inventing again,” I smiled.

  Then I stopped smiling. The next house was number 36. The house belonging to Dr Sphinx. The house I had never actually seen. I plucked up my courage and opened the gate. In front of me, the shoulder-high grass moved gently in the breeze. And I could hear rustling sounds. I parted the grass and started to go forwards. The rustling sounds got closer. And closer…

  Suddenly, I was aware of eyes watching me. Of ears listening to me. Of whiskers twitching at me.

  Suddenly, I was surrounded by cats. Cats of all colours. Some dark, some light, some patchy, some stripy. They came in all sizes, too, and there was one that had an artificial leg with a tiny wheel on the end. Her name was Inca. I’d met her before, and I knew that Mr Tipp had made the leg after she’d lost her real one in a car accident. But the cats had one thing in common – they were all gazing at me unblinkingly. Except for a big orange one. He arched his back and gave a bad tempered HISSSSS.

  I hissed right back. “I’ve got a cat called Noggin and I’m not scared of you,” I said. I hoped I sounded braver than I felt.

  I crept forwards, with the cats slinking along at my heels, until I came upon a pyramid-shaped wooden box. A startled cat leapt out of it.

  MIAOW!

  “Sorry, Tiger,” I gasped. I’d met him before, too, and recognised him by his stripy tail.

  Tiger gave me a green-eyed stare, then scampered off through the long grass. Perhaps he knows where the house is, I thought, and followed him as best I could.

  Soon I came to a clearing, and there at last was the house. At least, I think it was a house, but it wasn’t like our terraced one. It looked more like a ruined temple, with a grand entrance and tall columns on either side of the front door. The door had an old-fashioned car horn nailed to it. Above the horn was a notice saying TOOT AND COME IN.

  “No way,” I muttered, and looked for a letter box.

  But there wasn’t one.

  “Oh well,” I shrugged. A lot of the houses in Weird Street had no letter boxes. I was just about to put the paper into what looked like a big, stone horse trough, when a loud gong sounded.

  BONNNNNG!

  I got such a fright I stepped back and fell into the trough. The orange cat leapt onto the edge and hissed at me so loudly I thought he was going to pounce.

  “Help! Help!” I yelled, and my voice echoed back.

  Chapter Two

  I was still struggling to get out of the trough, when Dr Sphinx appeared. He wore an old pith helmet and a faded shirt and shorts. He picked up the orange cat and placed him on the ground.

  “Go into the house, Diogenes,” he said. Then he looked at me. “You’re the paperboy. I’m glad you’ve found your way to the house at last. But, tell me, what are you doing in my sarcophagus?”

  “Sarcopha– what?”

  “Stone coffin,” said Dr Sphinx.

  YIKES!

  I clambered out quickly, scraping my knees on the side.

  “I didn’t mean… I mean, I didn’t know… I mean…”

  Dr Sphinx looked down his nose at me. “You didn’t know it was a coffin? You mean, you couldn’t read the writing on the side?”

  Writing? I bent down and looked more closely. There were some vertical marks on the side of the sarcophagus, but they looked more like little pictures to me. I thought I could make out an arm and a few small birds.

  “It’s very different to the writing we do in school,” I said.

  Dr Sphinx nodded. “I would be happy to explain it to you, but I’ve already sounded the gong for the cats’ breakfast, so I must go and feed them. Come another time if you want to discover the riddle of the writing.”

  “I will,” I said. “I’d like that.” I wanted to know more about the writing and about Dr Sphinx and his odd house. Perhaps there were some even stranger things inside…

  I made my way back through the long grass and jumped onto my bike. Then I pedalled to school as fast as I could. When I got there, the playground was empty, apart from a crow pecking at some cold chips someone had thrown away.

  “Oh no, late again,” I groa
ned.

  I hurried along to my classroom. Miss Dodds was busy at the whiteboard, but she heard me tiptoe in. She frowned. Then she saw my scraped knees. “Oh dear, that looks painful, Jonny. Did you fall off your bike? Is that why you’re late?”

  Now it would have been sensible just to say “yes”. But my dad says it’s important to always tell the truth, so I did.

  “No, I got a fright when a loud gong sounded at Dr Sphinx’s house, which looks like a ruined temple, and I fell into a stone coffin with funny writing on the side, and I scraped my knees getting out.”

  The class gasped and my friends, Sara and Surinder, sighed and shook their heads.

  Miss Dodds breathed in deeply through her long nose. “When are you going to start being sensible, Jonny Smith,” she said, “and stop telling these silly stories?”

  I just shrugged and looked at my knees. While I was doing my paper round in Weird Street, I didn’t think it would be any time soon.

  At least Sara and Surinder believed me.

  “Dr Sphinx sounds a bit spooky,” said Sara, at break.

  “Maybe we should come with you to see the stone coffin,” said Surinder.

  “Sarcophagus, you mean,” said Sara, who can be a bit of a brainbox sometimes, and is really keen on history.

  “I don’t suppose Dr Sphinx would mind,” I said.

  “Saturday, then. After your round,” said Sara.

  “No, I have to go straight home on Saturday to get ready for the inter-schools’ football final.”

  “And I’ve got to visit my aunt on Sunday,” said Surinder.

  “Weekdays are out,” I said. “I’m helping Dad in the garden after school to earn money for my new bike fund. It’ll have to be the following Saturday.”

  “But that’s ages away,” said Sara.

  “Sorry,” I said, and glanced at my knees. “Now, I’d better clean these up before I go to see Mr McGregor.”

  Mr McGregor’s our football coach. He really wants us to win the inter-schools’ championship, but he’s been a bit grumpy recently. He must be worried about the match.

  “What have you done to your knees, Smith?” he demanded at football practice. “Did you fall off that wee bike of yours?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “I tripped over.”

  “Well, learn to look where you’re going,” he said. “I hope you can still run, otherwise I’ll drop you from the team.”

  I gritted my teeth and ran out onto the playing field. My knees did hurt, but I was determined to keep my place for the final.

  Chapter Three

  When I got home, I told Mum all about Dr Sphinx.

  “I’ve met him,” she said. “He came to our mothers’ group to give a talk on ancient Egypt. He’s a very interesting man.”

  “Talking about me?” asked Dad, hobbling in from the garden on his crutches. Dad’s a community policeman, but he broke his leg while chasing some thieves, so he’s at home most of the time right now.

  “No,” I smiled, and told him the story about Dr Sphinx, too.

  “So that’s what’s behind all the grass at number 36,” he said. “Mind you, if Jonny and I don’t get the mower out soon, ours will be just as high. Maybe we should get a goat.”

  “Haven’t we got enough animals with a dog, a goldfish and a cat,” sighed Mum.

  That night, I had a strange dream. In it, I was surrounded by orange cats who started hissing, then chasing me. I raced away as fast as I could, but my legs felt very heavy and slow.

  After a while, some of the cats caught up with me and ran under my feet. I tried to jump over them but I couldn’t. Instead, I got tangled up and could feel myself falling, falling, falling … right out of bed. Thump!

  I picked myself up, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and looked at the clock. It was still early, and I really did want to know more about that funny writing. If I set off now…

  I grabbed a cereal bar and jumped on my bike. I delivered my papers as usual, but left Dr Sphinx’s house till last.

  At number 36, I parked my bike and slowly opened the creaky gate. I still felt a bit shaky, but I took a deep breath to steady myself, and headed into the long grass. An early-morning mist hung in the air giving everything a ghostly look, and I shivered as the wet grass trailed across my clothes.

  Then something brushed my leg. I let out a yell. But it was only Tiger.

  Dr Sphinx must have heard me shout, because he came out of his strange house to meet me.

  “Jonny Smith,” he smiled. “You’re here early today.”

  “I wanted to find out the riddle of the writing on the sarcophagus.”

  “Of course,” said Dr Sphinx. “Come with me.” He walked over to the stone coffin, and I knelt down beside him while he explained what the odd marks meant.

  “This is ancient Egyptian writing,” he said. “The ancient Egyptians wrote from top to bottom, and in pictures. If you look carefully, you can see three reed leaves, two quail chicks, an arm, water, a mouth, an owl, a chick and two leaves, another owl, a chick, two more owls, a chick and two leaves.”

  “I see that now,” I said excitedly. “But what does it mean?”

  Dr Sphinx grinned. “It means the person who made this sarcophagus was a real joker. These pictures say I WANT MY MUMMY.”

  I gasped.

  “Would you like to meet my mummy?” asked Dr Sphinx.

  “Sure. You met mine at the mothers’ group.”

  “But yours isn’t an ancient Egyptian, or three thousand years old.”

  “Not quite,” I grinned and checked my watch. “But I’ll be late for school if I don’t leave now. Can I see it tomorrow?”

  “Certainly.”

  I thanked Dr Sphinx and headed back to my bike. I was hurtling down Weird Street when a cat darted out in front of me. I braked hard and stopped so suddenly I fell off my bike.

  “Oh no, my poor knees,” I moaned, and dragged myself and my bike onto the pavement.

  The cat watched me from a safe distance.

  “Inca!” I gasped. “You shouldn’t be out here. I’d better take you home.”

  I picked her up and limped back up the hill to number 36, where I dropped her in the long grass.

  “Now, stay there,” I said. “Or you’re going to lose another leg.”

  She disappeared without looking back. Then I collected my bike and pedalled slowly to school.

  When I arrived, the playground was empty.

  Miss Dodds gave me one of her fiercest looks when I entered the classroom.

  “Well, what’s this morning’s fantastic excuse for being late?” she asked.

  “I fell off my bike when a three-legged cat that had an artificial leg with a wheel on the end ran out in front of me,” I said.

  “Silly boy,” said Miss Dodds. But I didn’t get off that lightly. “Stay behind at break. I want a word with you.”

  Actually, Miss Dodds wanted several words. Words like “no more football practice if you’re late for school again”.

  “But it’s the inter-schools’ final on Saturday, and I’m in the team,” I gasped.

  “I’m aware of that,” said Miss Dodds. “So, it’s up to you, Jonny. The choice is yours.”

  Chapter Four

  “I can’t be late for school again,” I muttered to Sara and Surinder. “If I am, Miss Dodds will ban me from football practice and Mr McGregor’ll kill me. But I really did want to see that mummy, especially after hearing the joke on the sarcophagus…”

  Sara and Surinder looked at each other. “What mummy? What joke?”

  I told them.

  Sara was thoughtful. “Perhaps we could help you with your paper round tomorrow,” she said. “Then we could come and see the mummy, too.”

  “And the sarcophagus with the joke on it,” said Surinder.

  “The end of next week’s too long to wait,” they both agreed.

  “OK,” I grinned. “Meet me at Mr Maini’s at seven o’clock.”

  “That’s early!”
gasped Surinder.

  But they were both there on time, yawning and leaning on their bikes.

  “I see you have friends with you today, Jonny,” said Mr Maini.

  “They’ve come to help,” I said.

  Mr Maini handed me the papers and I divided them up into three bundles.

  “You’ve got Captain Cross-eyed’s paper. You might see Scarface Jack,” I told Sara.

  “And you’ve got Miss King’s paper, Surinder. You’ll see a fierce-looking, stone Viking warrior at her house.”

  “Can’t wait,” they grinned, and pedalled away.

  “Meet me outside number 36 when you’re finished,” I called.

  I set off, too. My bag was much lighter than usual and I got through my bit of the round quickly, finishing off with Mr Tipp at number 34 and a half. In no time, Sara and Surinder and I were all standing on the pavement outside the gate of number 36.

  “Right,” I said, feeling braver with my friends beside me. “Here we go.” I opened the gate and plunged into the shoulder-high grass.

  “You were right. It is like a jungle in here,” muttered Surinder, keeping close behind me.

  “Something just brushed past my leg,” squeaked Sara.

  “That’ll be Tiger,” I said. We followed in single file until the house came into view.

  “Wow,” breathed Sara. “It does look like an old temple.”

  “I can see the funny writing on the sarcophagus,” muttered Surinder, stooping down to peer at the pictures.

  “But I don’t see Dr Sphinx,” I said. “I wonder where he is.”

  As if he’d understood what I was saying, Tiger blinked at me and headed for the door of the house.

  I paused. “What should we do?”

  “Well, it says toot and come in,” said Sara.

  I squeezed the bulb of the horn. TOOT!