Something Smells Fishy Read online

  The crowd was very surprised. They pointed to the sky and started asking questions. “Up there!” “Who is that?” “It’s not a bird or a plane. It’s a flying fish?”

  “That looks like Red Herring!” Westie said, squinting.

  Then before anyone could react, a fishnet from the helicopter dropped on Prince Bubbles and lifted him into the sky. The helicopter flew away. “The prince!” “He’s been fish-napped!” “Somebody help!” the crowd shouted.

  “Yup, it’s Red Herring,” Westie confirmed. “But what’s he doing? I thought he was on our side!”

  “That’s a red herring for you,” Rider said. “They always send you barking up the wrong tree!”

  “Oh dear,” said Ellie Eel to the mayor. “Someone should help the prince. In the meantime, I’ll hold on to the Key for him.” Ellie snatched the glass case with the golden key and slithered quickly toward the limo with the rest of the prince’s crew. The rottweiler limo driver closed the door once they were inside, and then he hopped into the driver’s seat. As he hit the gas, he ripped off his fake mustache and threw it out the window.

  “I knew it!” Ziggy cried. “It was that up-to-no-good Rotten Ruffhouse!”

  “Interesting turn of events,” Rider said, rubbing his chin. “I can’t say I’m surprised though. Thank goodness we were two steps ahead. Team, it’s time to divide and conquer.”

  “Westie and Ziggy, you two are Team Fetch,” Rora ordered. “You follow the impostor prince and that helicopter. They should lead you to the real prince. Rider and I are Team Dog Run. We’re going to chase those thugs and make sure they don’t make any more trouble. Let’s go, teams.”

  Ziggy and Westie jumped into the van and followed Red Herring’s helicopter. Using his Seeing Eye Dog Glasses, Westie tracked the helicopter and gave directions to Ziggy. The young detective was having so much fun driving that he forgot he’d skipped lunch. At least until they drove past a pizza stand and his nose got a whiff. “Yummy, yum, yum! Do you think we have time for some drive-through?”

  “Certainly not!” Westie barked. “After that fishy fake prince!”

  Meanwhile, Rider and Rora ran over to the barking lot and hopped onto their P.I. Pack motorcycles. Seconds later, the detective duo were roaring down the street after the limousine. “Let’s fry some fish!” Rora shouted.

  A WILD FISH CHASE

  Rora and Rider zipped in and out of traffic on their motorcycles as they chased the limousine. The long luxury car was being driven by the villain Rotten Ruffhouse, and inside were the impostor prince’s friends. It was up to the detectives to catch them before they got away.

  “Watch out!” Rora shouted to Rider. “Octopus ink!”

  The octopus bodyguard had rolled down the windows on the limo and was using all eight arms to throw buckets of slippery ink onto the road.

  “Got it,” Rider said, carefully avoiding the slimy puddles. “He may be well-armed, but I’m excellent on a bike.”

  Rider drove up a ramp and flew through the air, landing beside the limo. “Pull over!” he shouted at the driving rottweiler. “It’s time for those fish to pay for their crimes and balance the scales of justice.”

  Rotten shook his head and stepped on the gas. Rider sped up too. Then he pulled a doggie bag of old takeout food from his jacket and tossed it into the limo’s sunroof. The car instantly filled up with a horrible stench.

  “What was that?” asked Rora.

  “Some food that Ziggy asked me to hold on to,” said Rider with a smile. “Two months ago.”

  The limo pulled over and the villains jumped out, coughing at the awful smell. But before Rider and Rora could catch up, the bad guys ran toward the marina.

  Meanwhile, on another road, Ziggy and Westie were tailing the helicopter in the sky. The helicopter swerved sharply to the right, but there was no turn in the road. “They spotted us,” Westie said.

  “I’m not letting those fishy scoundrels off the hook that easily,” Ziggy said. He drove the van off the road and through a grass field, following the helicopter. “Do you have an invention that could get a helicopter out of the sky?”

  “Of course!” Westie said, pulling out his Grip-o-matic Grabber. “My Grabber can reach things near—and far!” He aimed the Grabber out the window toward the helicopter and then pushed the button. The Grabber arm reached up, up, up, way into the air and nabbed the helicopter. “Got ’em!” he cried. “Hit the brakes!”

  Ziggy slammed on the breaks. The van jerked to a stop and so did the helicopter. With nowhere else to go, the helicopter landed safely on the ground. “Let’s make like a fisherman and catch these bad boys!”

  Ziggy and Westie raced to the helicopter, but Red Herring and the fake prince leaped out. Then they ran toward the Pawston Marina, just like the other bad guys that Rider and Rora had been chasing.

  The P.I. Pack came together, as all four dogs chased the bad guys down a dock toward a big sign that read:

  “Hmm . . . do you think we need a reservation?” Rora asked.

  “The only reservation I need is the law,” said Rider. “Now let’s turn the tide on this mystery.”

  A FISH AND SHIPS PLACE

  “They’re getting away!” Ziggy cried, pointing into the river as the fishy scoundrels and the scuba-suited rottweiler swam into the restaurant called KELP. The rest of the P.I. Pack were putting on scuba suits of their own.

  “Ziggy, you stay up here and phone the police,” Rider said. “And make sure no one gets away. We’re going to doggy paddle down there and catch those sea urchins.”

  Rider, Rora, and Westie dove in and swam down to the underwater restaurant. The place was closed, but the doors were unlocked. Slowly, they swam inside. There was no sign of the crooks. “They could be anywhere,” Rider said. “Keep your eyes open.”

  The three detectives swam around the massive place. The dining hot spot was one big aquarium. There were brightly colored trees in between tables, the floors were made of marbles and rocks, and the ceiling had lovely nets decorated with starfish. There were even four castles, a pirate ship, and a giant black piano hanging from the ceiling. “KELP is such a so-fish-ticated place,” Rora said. “I hope we’re not underdressed. Hey, what’s that?” Rora noticed that all of the castles said KELP, except one. It said HELP. Rora swam over and found the real Prince Bubbles inside the plastic castle. He had been trapped there this whole time! “Hey, boys, I found my true prince!” Rora shouted to her partners.

  “And the crooks found us,” said Westie, pointing to the octopus, the shark, and Red Herring. Beside them were Rotten Ruffhouse, Ellie Eel, and the impostor prince with the golden Key to the City.

  “Why’d you kidnap the prince?” Rider asked.

  “I did it for the money,” Ellie Eel said.

  “And the rest of them work for me,” said the impostor prince. He pulled off his fake birthmark and monocle. “They call me the Cod-father!”

  “And the Key to the City?” Rider asked.

  “Rotten hired us to steal it for his mystery boss.” The Codfather grinned. He snapped his fin and the thugs stepped closer, each pulling out a giant swordfish. It looked like a sharp ending was in store for the P.I. Pack. “Any last questions?”

  “Just one,” Rider said. “How do you catch dirty fish?”

  “How?” asked the Codfather.

  “With a big net!” Rider grabbed a sea star from the wall and threw it. The sharp star cut the net decorations loose, which drifted down, trapping Ellie Eel, Red Herring, and the bodyguards. Rotten grabbed the fake Key to the City and escaped by swimming out of a window.

  Rider was about to swim after him when the Codfather grabbed a swordfish the shark had dropped. “En garde!”

  Rider found a swordfish as well, and the underwater duel began.

  Clink! Clank! Clink! Clank!

  The dog detective and the Codfather parried and dodged each other’s swordfish until Rider backed the villain into a corner. Then with one swipe, he cut through a rop
e and the piano from the ceiling came crashing down on the bad guy.

  “Do you know the difference between tuna and a piano?” Rider asked the moaning Codfather. “You can tune a piano, but you can’t tuna fish.”

  “I’m not a tuna,” the villain groaned. “I’m a cod.”

  “What you are,” Rora said, handcuffing the cod, “is under arrest.”

  OFF TO SQUID ROW

  The P.I. Pack swam out of the restaurant and climbed onto the dock. The clambulances and police were waiting, and so was a very concerned mayor. The bad guys—all handcuffed together with coral reef—were escorted to the back of the police van.

  “You saved the Key and the prince!” the mayor said, flustered. “How did you do it, Rider?”

  “All in a day’s work,” the detective said. “The bad guys were after the Key all along, and they knew the best way to get it was by impersonating the prince. They tried to throw us off their scent by committing two crimes at once. While everyone was watching the prince being kidnapped, Ellie Eel made off with the Key to the City. Good thing my team had already used the same idea. We switched out the real key with a fake.”

  “I owe you my life,” Prince Bubbles said to the detectives. “How can I ever repay you?”

  “Bow-wowza! How about with an all-you-can-eat buffet!” Ziggy shouted excitedly. All that waiting outside of the restaurant had sure made him hungry. “I’d be happy to eat whatever royal scraps you don’t want. Cakes, ice cream, seaweed, whatever!”

  “Please ignore my friend, Your Majesty,” Rider said. “No payment is necessary. And I believe this belongs to you.” The dog detective handed the real key to the real prince.

  “Wait a minute,” Ziggy spoke up. “So where is the fake key?”

  “With Rotten Ruffhouse and whoever he works for, which means they’re in for a rude awakening.” Rider smiled.

  Across the city, Rotten ran down a set of secret stairs. “I have the key, Boss,” he said.

  Mr. Meow was waiting in his chair. “Fantasssstic,” he mewed. “Finally, I have the Key to the City. It will open every door, and I can rob Pawston blind!” The sly cat took out a smaller key that was hidden inside the larger key and held it up.

  “Does it really open every door?” the dog asked.

  “Of coursssse,” Mr. Meow said. “Ssssee?” He pushed the key into his own door and turned it. Nothing happened. “It’ssss not working. Why isn’t it working?”

  Mr. Meow grabbed the larger Key to the City and rubbed his paw on it. Gold paint flaked off, and beneath it, instead of saying KEY TO PAWSTON CITY, it said KEY TO PAWSTON JAIL CELL #13.

  “Confound that Rider Woofson!” Mr. Meow shouted with anger. “He pulled the old bait and sssswitch and gave me the key to the only door in the city that I do not want to open!”

  Check out Rider Woofson’s next case!

  Click-click-click-click. Crash! Clatter! Rat-a-tat! Boom!

  “What’s with all the noise?!” asked a floppy-haired mutt named Ziggy Fluffenscruff. “I was having the most amazing dream about a thirty-foot-long super-sandwich—until the noise woke me. Can’t a pup take a catnap in peace?”

  “Sorry about that,” said Westie. He was a brilliant West Highland terrier, and the P.I. Pack’s inventor. “My latest creation can cause quite a commotion. I call it the Air-Drummer. It’s half drum set, half ATV.”

  “I love TV!” Ziggy exclaimed, wagging his tail.

  “Not a TV, kid,” Rora Gooddog said, walking into the room. She was a poodle who was both smart and beautiful. “An ATV. It stands for ‘All-Terrain Vehicle.’ That means it can travel anywhere.”

  “Well, can it go get me something to eat?” Ziggy said, rubbing his growling belly. “I’m hungry.”

  “Not so fast, fella,” Rora said to Ziggy. Then she turned to Westie. “Mind if I give it a try?”

  “Of course!” Westie said, offering her the driver’s seat. “It still has a few kinks to work out, but given the right driver—”

  Rora started playing the drum set. Rat-tat-tat a-ba-da ba-da-boom! Bada-da-da tada dada-da crash!

  “You’re amazing!” Westie said.

  WALKER STYLES grew up reading kids’ books, so it makes sense that he’s writing them now. And when he isn’t writing books, he’s out solving mysteries around the city of Manhattan, where he lives. Just the other day, he lost the book he was reading. Following all the clues, Walker deduced the couch ate it! (Well, the book was under the couch cushions. Still, mystery solved!)

  BEN WHITEHOUSE is an illustrator based in Birmingham, UK. He has previously worked in the animation industry as a character designer, animator, and stop-motion puppet maker before finding his feet within the world of illustration. You can visit him at stopmotionben.com.

  RiderWoofson.com

  Visit us at

  simonandschuster.com/kids

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Walker-Styles

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Ben-Whitehouse

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  LITTLE SIMON

  An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  First Little Simon hardcover edition January 2016

  Copyright © 2016 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Also available in a Little Simon paperback edition.

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  LITTLE SIMON is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and associated colophon is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Simon & Schuster Special Sales at 1-866-506-1949 or [email protected]. The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. Designed by Laura Roode. The text of this book was set in Courier Std.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Styles, Walker. Something smells fishy / by Walker Styles ; illustrated by Ben Whitehouse. — First Little Simon paperback edition. pages cm. — (Rider Woofson ; 2) Summary: “Prince Bubbles, the prince of New Sealand, comes to Pawston to receive an award. Everything goes swimmingly well until Rider and the P.I. Pack realize something smells fishy about their royal visitor”— Provided by publisher. ISBN 978-1-4814-5741-5 (pbk) — ISBN 978-1-4814-5742-2 (hc) — ISBN 978-1-4814-5743-9 (eBook) [1. Mystery and detective stories. 2. Detectives—Fiction. 3. Dogs—Fiction. 4. Animals—Fiction. 5. Impersonation—Fiction. 6. Princes—Fiction.] I. Whitehouse, Ben, illustrator. II. Title.

  PZ7.1.S82So 2016

  [Fic]—dc23

  2015018118