The moment Marvin saw the golden samosa in the second pigeon’s beak, his detective instincts activated.

Unfortunately, his detective instincts were slightly confused.

“STOP THAT BIRD!”

He ran out of the abandoned train station.

The mayor followed.

Mrs. Noodle followed the mayor.

Chef Alfredo followed Mrs. Noodle.

Professor Biscuit followed Chef Alfredo.

Mrs. Pudding followed Professor Biscuit.

Nobody knew why Mrs. Pudding was running.

She didn’t know either.

“I just don’t want to miss anything!” she shouted.

Above them, the two pigeons flew across the sky.

The first pigeon was Gary.

The second pigeon was completely unknown.

Marvin pointed.

“Gary has a partner!”

Mrs. Noodle shouted,

“How can you tell?”

“Gary is flying!”

“All pigeons fly!”

“Exactly!”

---

The pigeons turned toward the marketplace.

Marvin ran faster.

A fruit seller watched them approach.

“What happened?”

“The samosa!”

“What?”

“The golden samosa!”

The fruit seller stared.

“Is that why everyone is running?”

“YES!”

He immediately joined them.

“Why are you joining us?” Marvin shouted.

“I love samosas!”

“Fair enough!”

Within two minutes, the chase had become enormous.

A dozen people were running behind Marvin.

A dog joined.

Then a cat.

Then a man carrying three bags of onions.

Nobody knew why the man joined.

“I thought there was a parade!” he explained.

---

The pigeons flew over the market.

The second pigeon suddenly dropped the samosa.

Everyone screamed.

“The samosa!”

It fell toward the crowd.

Marvin jumped.

He stretched out both hands.

He was almost there.

Almost.

Then the man carrying onions accidentally bumped into him.

Marvin fell backward.

The samosa bounced off his forehead.

Then landed inside a basket of tomatoes.

Everyone froze.

Marvin slowly stood up.

“Nobody move.”

A tomato rolled off his shoulder.

“Especially the tomatoes.”

The fruit seller grabbed the basket.

“I have it!”

He opened it.

The samosa was gone.

Everyone screamed again.

“WHAT?”

The fruit seller looked confused.

“It was here!”

Marvin inspected the basket.

“Interesting.”

Mrs. Noodle looked inside.

“There’s a hole.”

Marvin nodded.

“The samosa escaped through the tomato hole.”

Mrs. Noodle stared at him.

“There is no such thing as a tomato hole.”

Marvin looked offended.

“Then explain the missing samosa.”

“I can’t.”

“Exactly.”

---

They searched everywhere.

Under tables.

Behind boxes.

Inside carts.

Even inside a barrel of potatoes.

Professor Biscuit climbed into the potato barrel.

“Nothing!”

He climbed out.

A potato was stuck on his head.

Marvin looked at him.

“You have something.”

Professor Biscuit touched his head.

“What?”

“A potato.”

“That’s mine.”

“You can’t just steal evidence.”

“I grew it.”

Marvin sighed.

---

Suddenly, Mrs. Pudding shouted,

“I found something!”

Everyone rushed toward her.

She was standing beside a trash bin.

Inside was a small golden triangle.

Marvin carefully pulled it out.

He looked at it.

Everyone held their breath.

It was…

A piece of cardboard.

Marvin threw it away.

Mrs. Pudding shrugged.

“Looked important.”

---

Then Gary appeared.

He landed on top of a street lamp.

Marvin pointed at him.

“Gary!”

Gary looked down.

“COO.”

“Where is the samosa?”

“COO.”

“Tell us!”

“COO!”

Gary flew away.

Marvin ran after him.

“He’s leading us somewhere!”

Mrs. Noodle sighed.

“Or he’s a pigeon.”

“Don’t ruin the mystery.”

---

Gary flew toward the town park.

The group followed.

He landed on a statue.

The statue was of Butterfield’s founder.

Sir Reginald Butter.

Nobody knew why he was holding a spoon.

Marvin looked around.

“Where’s the clue?”

Gary pecked the statue.

“COO.”

Marvin examined it.

There was a small hole in the statue’s base.

He reached inside.

His hand touched something.

He pulled it out.

A key.

Everyone gasped.

Marvin held it up.

“A secret key!”

The mayor rushed forward.

“That’s my key!”

Marvin frowned.

“Your key?”

“Yes!”

“Why was it inside a statue?”

The mayor became nervous.

“I don’t know.”

Mrs. Noodle raised an eyebrow.

“That’s suspicious.”

Marvin nodded.

“Very.”

The mayor took the key.

“Maybe someone put it there.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Convenient.”

The mayor glared at him.

“Are you accusing me?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“I’m saving it for later.”

---

The key had a number engraved on it.

27.

Marvin immediately knew what it meant.

“The train station!”

They rushed back.

There were twenty-seven lockers in the old station.

Marvin checked each one.

Locker 1.

Nothing.

Locker 2.

Nothing.

Locker 3.

A dead mouse.

Locker 4.

A shoe.

Locker 5.

A newspaper from 1987.

Locker 6.

A sandwich.

Marvin stared at it.

“Why is everyone leaving food everywhere?”

Mrs. Noodle took the sandwich.

“Because you’re taking too long.”

---

Finally, they reached Locker 27.

Marvin inserted the key.

Click.

The door opened.

Everyone leaned closer.

Inside was a box.

Marvin slowly removed it.

He placed it on the floor.

“This is it.”

He opened the box.

Everyone gasped.

Inside was…

A photograph.

Marvin stared at it.

It showed Mayor Pickles standing beside Chef Alfredo.

Both were holding something.

A huge samosa.

But the photograph was dated three days before the festival.

Marvin’s eyes widened.

“Impossible.”

Chef Alfredo looked shocked.

“I’ve never seen that photograph.”

The mayor became pale.

“That’s…”

Marvin turned toward him.

“That’s you.”

The mayor shook his head.

“No.”

“You’re in the photograph.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you say you didn’t know about it?”

The mayor remained silent.

Everyone stared at him.

Finally, he whispered,

“Because that photograph was never supposed to exist.”

---

Marvin stepped closer.

“What does that mean?”

The mayor took a deep breath.

“Three days before the festival, I ordered a second Golden Samosa.”

Everyone gasped.

“A second one?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

The mayor looked embarrassed.

“The first one was for the festival.”

“And the second?”

The mayor pointed toward Chef Alfredo.

“He made it for me.”

Chef Alfredo nodded.

“But what happened to it?”

The mayor looked toward the floor.

“It disappeared.”

Marvin’s eyes widened.

“So the missing samosa from the festival isn’t the first missing samosa.”

“Correct.”

Mrs. Noodle crossed her arms.

“How many samosas are missing?”

The mayor swallowed.

“Two.”

Everyone stared.

Marvin slowly sat down.

“This case is bigger than we thought.”

---

Before anyone could say anything else, the lights in the train station suddenly went out.

Again.

Everyone screamed.

A voice echoed through the darkness.

“You’ll never find them!”

Marvin shouted,

“WHO ARE YOU?”

The voice laughed.

Then something flew through the air.

It hit Marvin on the head.

He grabbed it.

A samosa.

He smelled it.

Fresh.

Warm.

Perfect.

Everyone gasped.

“The samosa!”

Marvin took a bite.

He stopped.

His eyes widened.

“This isn’t the Golden Samosa.”

Mrs. Noodle looked at him.

“How do you know?”

Marvin swallowed.

“Because it’s delicious.”

Chef Alfredo took it.

He examined it.

“This is one of mine.”

Marvin frowned.

“Then where is the real one?”

Suddenly, the lights returned.

Everyone looked around.

The box was empty.

The photograph was gone.

And Mayor Pickles had disappeared.

Mrs. Noodle pointed toward the open door.

“He ran.”

Marvin’s eyes widened.

“After him!”

They rushed outside.

But the mayor was nowhere.

Only a trail of samosa crumbs remained on the ground.

Marvin followed them.

One crumb.

Then another.

Then another.

The trail led toward the town hall.

Marvin smiled.

“We finally have a real clue.”

Mrs. Noodle looked down.

“Those aren’t crumbs.”

“What?”

She picked one up.

“It’s gravel.”

Marvin stared at the ground.

Then at her.

Then at the empty street.

He sighed.

“Why is everyone better at this than me?”

Above the town hall, Gary and the mysterious second pigeon sat on the roof.

Between them was the real Golden Samosa.

Gary looked at his partner.

“COO.”

The other pigeon nodded.

“COO.”

They both looked down at Marvin.

Then they laughed.

“COO COO COO!”

TO BE CONTINUED…