Detective Marvin Wobble had one problem.

He was stuck inside a flowerpot.

Not metaphorically.

Actually stuck.

His left leg was inside.

His right leg was outside.

His coat was covered in soil.

And his dignity had completely disappeared.

“Mrs. Noodle!” he shouted.

She walked over slowly.

“What?”

“Help me.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

She looked at the flowerpot.

“Have you tried getting out?”

Marvin stared at her.

“Brilliant.”

He pulled.

Nothing.

He twisted.

Nothing.

He jumped.

The flowerpot jumped with him.

Finally, Mrs. Noodle grabbed his coat and pulled.

POP!

Marvin came flying out.

Unfortunately, he landed directly on Mayor Pickles.

“GET OFF ME!”

The mayor screamed.

Marvin stood up.

“Sorry.”

The mayor looked at his suit.

“You stepped on my shoe!”

Marvin looked down.

“Which one?”

“The expensive one!”

Marvin nodded.

“Excellent.”

“Why is that excellent?”

“Because now we know which shoe is expensive.”

The mayor stared at him.

Mrs. Noodle covered her face.

---

Meanwhile, Gary the pigeon was flying across Butterfield.

He landed on the roof of an old bakery.

He looked left.

Then right.

Then he dropped something.

It rolled across the roof.

The Golden Samosa.

Gary looked at it proudly.

“COO.”

Then he pecked it.

He stopped.

He looked disappointed.

The samosa was made of gold.

It was not edible.

Gary had made a terrible mistake.

---

Back at the festival hall, Marvin had started drawing a suspect board.

There were four photographs.

Chef Alfredo.

Professor Biscuit.

Mrs. Pudding.

And Gary.

Under Gary’s photograph Marvin had written:

VERY DANGEROUS. POSSIBLY HAS WINGS.

Mrs. Noodle looked at the board.

“You forgot the mayor.”

“He’s not a suspect.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s the victim.”

“He also had the key to the glass box.”

Marvin froze.

“Interesting.”

Mrs. Noodle smiled.

“You should investigate him.”

Marvin immediately shook his head.

“Impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because he scares me.”

---

Marvin decided to interrogate the mayor anyway.

He placed two chairs in the middle of the room.

One for himself.

One for Mayor Pickles.

The mayor sat down.

Marvin leaned forward.

“Where were you at exactly 10:03 a.m.?”

“Standing here.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking at the samosa.”

“How long?”

“Three minutes.”

“Why?”

“Because it was beautiful.”

Marvin nodded.

“I understand.”

He wrote something.

Mrs. Noodle looked over.

Mayor likes samosa. Extremely suspicious.

She sighed.

Then Marvin asked,

“Who had access to the key?”

“I did.”

“Anyone else?”

“The chef.”

“Anyone else?”

“The festival manager.”

“Anyone else?”

The mayor paused.

“Mrs. Pudding.”

Marvin slammed his notebook shut.

“Aha!”

“What?”

“Three people had the key.”

“Yes.”

“And one of them is a baker.”

“Yes.”

“And one is a chef.”

“Yes.”

“And one is a person.”

The mayor stared.

“Everyone is a person.”

Marvin smiled.

“Exactly.”

Mrs. Noodle whispered,

“You’re getting worse.”

---

Suddenly, a loud noise came from outside.

BANG!

Everyone jumped.

Marvin grabbed a broom.

“Nobody move!”

Another BANG!

The door opened.

A pigeon flew inside.

Gary.

He landed on the table.

Everyone stared.

Gary looked at them.

“COO.”

Marvin pointed dramatically.

“YOU!”

Gary flew onto a chair.

Marvin moved closer.

“Where is the samosa?”

Gary tilted his head.

“COO.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“COO.”

“Tell me where you put it.”

“COO.”

Mrs. Noodle looked at Marvin.

“He says he doesn’t know.”

Marvin turned toward her.

“You speak pigeon?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Because he keeps saying ‘coo.'”

Marvin nodded.

“Good point.”

---

Gary suddenly flew toward the window.

Marvin shouted,

“STOP!”

He ran after him.

Mrs. Noodle followed.

The mayor followed.

Then Chef Alfredo.

Then Professor Biscuit.

Then Mrs. Pudding.

Soon, the entire festival committee was running through the street.

People came out of their houses.

A child shouted,

“Why are they chasing a pigeon?”

Another child answered,

“Probably crime.”

Marvin ran faster.

Gary flew toward the old clock tower.

Marvin pointed.

“He’s going to his hideout!”

Mrs. Noodle shouted,

“How do you know?”

“Because criminals always have hideouts!”

“Have you met many criminals?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know?”

“I’ve watched television.”

---

Gary landed on the clock tower.

Marvin climbed the stairs.

Halfway up, he stopped.

“I need a break.”

Mrs. Noodle looked at him.

“You’ve climbed six stairs.”

“They were difficult stairs.”

She continued climbing.

Marvin followed.

At the top, they found Gary sitting beside a pile of objects.

A spoon.

A button.

A toy car.

Three coins.

A rubber duck.

A sandwich.

And a shiny golden object.

Marvin’s eyes widened.

“The samosa!”

He grabbed it.

Everyone cheered.

“We solved the mystery!”

Marvin held the golden samosa above his head.

“I, Detective Marvin Wobble, have successfully—”

He stopped.

The golden object wasn’t a samosa.

It was a golden potato.

Marvin looked at Gary.

Gary looked at Marvin.

“COO.”

Mrs. Noodle sighed.

“Gary stole someone’s potato.”

Professor Biscuit suddenly screamed.

“MY POTATO!”

Everyone turned.

“That is the potato from my experiment!”

Marvin stared.

“You were experimenting with potatoes?”

“Yes.”

“What kind?”

“Golden potatoes.”

Marvin looked at the potato.

Then at Gary.

Then at the empty hands of the professor.

“This pigeon has stolen scientific property.”

Professor Biscuit nodded.

“Exactly.”

Marvin wrote in his notebook:

Pigeon: confirmed thief.

Mrs. Noodle shook her head.

“But not the samosa thief.”

Marvin crossed out the sentence.

Pigeon: thief, but not samosa thief.

---

Suddenly, Gary flew away.

He dropped something.

A small piece of paper.

Marvin picked it up.

It had a drawing.

A circle.

Three lines.

And a strange symbol.

Professor Biscuit examined it.

“That’s a map.”

“To where?”

He pointed toward the old train station.

Marvin’s eyes widened.

“The thief left us a clue!”

Mrs. Noodle frowned.

“Or the pigeon dropped trash.”

Marvin ignored her.

“To the station!”

---

They rushed to the old train station.

The building had been abandoned for years.

The doors creaked.

The windows were broken.

Marvin entered first.

“Stay behind me.”

Mrs. Noodle raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“Because I am the detective.”

“What will you do if something attacks?”

“I’ll hide behind you.”

She nodded.

“At least you’re honest.”

They walked through the dark hallway.

Suddenly—

CRASH!

Everyone screamed.

A broom fell from the ceiling.

Marvin jumped behind Mrs. Noodle.

“Did you see that?”

“It was a broom.”

“A dangerous broom.”

They continued.

Then they found something.

A table.

On it was a single plate.

And on the plate was a note.

Marvin picked it up.

The message read:

IF YOU WANT THE SAMOSA, FOLLOW THE SMELL.

Everyone looked at each other.

Chef Alfredo sniffed the air.

“I smell something.”

Marvin sniffed.

“Me too.”

Mrs. Noodle sniffed.

“Fried potatoes.”

They followed the smell down the hallway.

It led them to a small room.

The door was locked.

Marvin slowly turned the handle.

It opened.

Inside was a tiny kitchen.

And someone was standing beside a frying pan.

Everyone screamed.

The person turned around.

It was…

Mayor Pickles.

Marvin’s mouth fell open.

“YOU!”

The mayor looked terrified.

“What are you doing here?”

Marvin pointed at him.

“That’s my question!”

The mayor held up his hands.

“I can explain!”

“Then explain!”

“I…”

The mayor looked around.

Then whispered,

“I didn’t steal the samosa.”

Marvin narrowed his eyes.

“Then why are you secretly cooking in an abandoned train station?”

The mayor swallowed.

“Because…”

He paused.

“…I have a terrible confession.”

Everyone leaned closer.

The mayor took a deep breath.

“I don’t actually like samosas.”

Silence.

Marvin blinked.

“What?”

“I hate samosas.”

Everyone stared.

“Then why did you spend twelve thousand dollars on one?”

The mayor looked embarrassed.

“Because…”

He whispered:

“I wanted to impress the mayor of the neighboring town.”

Marvin frowned.

“Why?”

The mayor sighed.

“Because he said his town had the best food festival.”

Mrs. Noodle nodded.

“That is the dumbest reason I’ve ever heard.”

The mayor looked offended.

“It was important!”

Suddenly, a loud noise came from outside.

COO!

Gary flew past the window.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.

Another pigeon followed him.

And that pigeon was carrying something.

Something golden.

Something triangular.

Something very familiar.

Marvin’s eyes widened.

“The real samosa!”

He ran toward the door.

“GET THAT PIGEON!”

Everyone ran after him.

The chase had officially begun.

And this time…

The samosa was actually edible.

TO BE CONTINUED…