The town of Bellwick had three famous attractions.

The first was its enormous clock tower, which had stood in the center of the town for nearly two hundred years.

The second was Mrs. Agnes Bumble’s bakery, where the pies were so delicious that people had been known to fake illnesses just to stay home and eat them.

The third was Inspector Milo Finch.

Unfortunately, Inspector Milo Finch was not famous for solving crimes.

He was famous for losing his hat.

Milo had lost his hat so many times that the police station had stopped buying him new ones. His current hat was borrowed from a gardener, his shoes belonged to a retired clown, and his mustache was, according to Milo, “naturally magnificent.”

According to everyone else, it was suspiciously crooked.

On a perfectly ordinary Tuesday night, Milo was sitting inside Bellwick Police Station, attempting to solve a crossword puzzle.

He had been staring at the same clue for forty minutes.

“Five letters,” he muttered. “A person who investigates crimes.”

His assistant, Clara Quibble, looked up from her newspaper.

“Detective.”

Milo frowned.

“That is seven letters.”

“Detective.”

“Seven.”

“Yes.”

Milo stared at the crossword.

“Then the newspaper is wrong.”

Clara sighed.

Before she could explain, the enormous clock tower in the center of Bellwick began to ring.

DONG.

DONG.

DONG.

Milo counted.

“One… two… three…”

“Midnight,” Clara said.

“I know that.”

“Then why are you counting?”

“Professional reasons.”

The clock continued.

DONG.

DONG.

DONG.

Then something strange happened.

The clock laughed.

“HAAAAA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”

Milo froze.

Clara slowly lowered her newspaper.

The police station became completely silent.

Outside, the entire town seemed to hold its breath.

Then the clock laughed again.

“HO-HO-HO-HOOOO!”

Milo stood up.

“Clara.”

“Yes?”

“Did the clock just laugh?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

Milo grabbed his coat.

“That means I am not going insane.”

Clara stared at him.

“You were never the most convincing evidence against that theory.”

Five minutes later, Milo and Clara were running toward the clock tower.

Well, Clara was running.

Milo was trying to run.

His borrowed clown shoes made this difficult.

The streets of Bellwick were strangely empty. Doors were opening as frightened citizens looked outside.

Mrs. Bumble came running from her bakery wearing a nightdress and holding a rolling pin.

“Inspector!”

Milo stopped.

“Mrs. Bumble! Why are you carrying a weapon?”

“It’s a rolling pin!”

“Exactly. A weapon.”

“It’s for making pies!”

“That’s what all criminals say.”

Mrs. Bumble stared at him.

“I have known you for twenty years.”

“And yet you remain suspicious.”

The clock laughed again.

Everyone screamed.

Milo pointed dramatically toward the tower.

“Nobody panic!”

Everyone immediately panicked.

People ran in every direction.

A man jumped into a fountain.

A woman hid behind a mailbox.

Someone threw a pie at Milo.

Milo caught it.

“Excellent.”

Clara stared at him.

“Are you going to eat that?”

“Evidence.”

“You are holding it with your mouth.”

Milo quickly removed the pie.

“I was testing it.”

“You were eating it.”

“That is how I test things.”

The clock tower stood at the center of Bellwick Square. Its enormous wooden doors were locked.

Milo examined them.

“Interesting.”

“What?” Clara asked.

“The door is locked.”

“Yes.”

“Very suspicious.”

“Most locked doors are.”

Milo looked offended.

“Clara, please allow me to investigate.”

He pulled out a magnifying glass.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten to bring one.

So he used a spoon.

Clara watched as he crawled around the door.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for clues.”

“With a spoon?”

“Magnifying glasses are expensive.”

The spoon reflected Milo’s face.

He stared at his reflection.

“My nose looks enormous.”

“That’s because you’re looking at yourself in a spoon.”

Milo suddenly gasped.

“Clara!”

“What?”

“I have discovered something.”

She leaned closer.

Milo pointed at the ground.

There was a small black feather.

“A feather,” Clara said.

“Exactly.”

“From a bird.”

“Or…”

Milo dramatically paused.

“From a mysterious criminal bird.”

Clara closed her eyes.

“Please stop.”

Milo picked up the feather.

At that exact moment, the clock laughed again.

This time, the sound was different.

“HAAAA-HA-HA-HA!”

Then a deep voice came from inside the tower.

“WHO DARES ENTER THE HOUSE OF TIME?”

Everyone froze.

Milo slowly reached for his police whistle.

Clara whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Preparing.”

“For what?”

“I have no idea.”

Milo blew the whistle.

Nothing happened.

He blew again.

Still nothing.

He looked at it.

“This whistle is broken.”

Clara took it from him and blew.

A loud whistle echoed across the square.

Milo jumped.

“Excellent!”

“You weren’t prepared for that?”

“I was testing your confidence.”

The tower doors suddenly opened.

Screeeeeeech.

Darkness waited inside.

Milo swallowed.

“Clara.”

“Yes?”

“I have decided this case is too dangerous.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going home?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“We should find someone more qualified.”

Before Clara could respond, Milo stepped into the tower.

Inside, the air smelled of dust, old wood, and something that reminded Milo of burnt cabbage.

The tower was enormous.

Massive gears moved slowly above them.

Chains rattled.

The walls were covered with strange symbols.

Then they heard footsteps.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Someone was coming down the spiral staircase.

Milo raised his hands.

“Stop!”

The footsteps stopped.

A shadow appeared.

Then a man stepped into the light.

He was tall, thin, and dressed entirely in black.

He wore a long coat, black gloves, black boots, and a black hat.

Milo whispered, “Suspicious.”

The man frowned.

“Who are you?”

Milo stepped forward.

“Inspector Milo Finch.”

The stranger looked at Clara.

“Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I heard that!”

“You were supposed to.”

The man introduced himself as Professor Archibald Tickwell, the keeper of Bellwick Clock Tower.

“Professor,” Milo said, “your clock has been laughing.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

The professor looked terrified.

“I don’t know.”

Milo narrowed his eyes.

“Convenient.”

“Do you think I made the clock laugh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why would I do that?”

Milo considered the question.

“Perhaps you enjoy laughing clocks.”

The professor stared at him.

Clara interrupted.

“Has anything else happened?”

The professor hesitated.

“Yes.”

He led them deeper into the tower.

At the top of a wooden staircase was a small room.

Inside stood the giant clock mechanism.

But something was missing.

One of the clock’s gears had been removed.

Milo’s expression changed.

“Aha.”

Clara looked at him.

“You know what happened?”

“Of course.”

“What?”

Milo pointed at the missing gear.

“Someone stole the gear.”

Professor Tickwell looked amazed.

“Brilliant!”

Clara sighed.

“That wasn’t exactly difficult.”

Milo ignored her.

“Why would someone steal a clock gear?”

The professor shook his head.

“I don’t know.”

Suddenly, a loud crash came from below.

BANG!

Everyone jumped.

Then came a voice.

“Nobody move!”

Milo immediately moved.

“Inspector!”

Clara grabbed his arm.

“She said nobody move!”

“I thought she meant everyone except me.”

Another crash.

Milo, Clara, and Professor Tickwell rushed downstairs.

The room was empty.

Except for a single object lying on the floor.

A red envelope.

Milo picked it up.

“Don’t touch that!” Clara shouted.

Too late.

Milo opened it.

Inside was a piece of paper.

Written in black ink were seven words.

THE FIRST GEAR HAS AWAKENED.

Milo stared at the message.

Clara looked frightened.

Professor Tickwell turned pale.

Then the clock laughed again.

But this time, something else happened.

One of the giant gears began to move.

Then another.

Then another.

The entire tower shook.

Milo grabbed the nearest object for support.

Unfortunately, it was Clara.

“Inspector!”

“Sorry.”

“You’re standing on my foot!”

“Evidence?”

“MY FOOT!”

The gears spun faster.

The clock began to tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Then, from somewhere inside the tower, a mysterious voice whispered:

“Find the thief…”

Milo slowly looked around.

The voice continued.

“Before the clock strikes thirteen.”

Clara stared at him.

“Clocks don’t strike thirteen.”

Milo nodded.

“Exactly.”

The tower suddenly went dark.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then someone screamed.

Milo screamed louder.

Clara shouted, “Who screamed?”

Milo answered honestly.

“I did.”

The lights returned.

Professor Tickwell was gone.

Milo blinked.

“Where did the professor go?”

Clara looked around.

“He’s disappeared.”

Milo stared at the empty staircase.

Then he noticed something on the floor.

A second black feather.

And beneath it…

A small golden key.

Milo picked up the key.

The clock began to laugh.

“HAAAAA-HA-HA-HA!”

Milo looked up at the enormous clock.

For the first time that night, he was completely serious.

“Clara.”

“Yes?”

“I think we’ve got a real mystery.”

Clara nodded.

“Finally.”

Milo smiled.

Then he slipped on the golden key and fell backward into a pile of old newspapers.

Clara looked down at him.

“Are you all right?”

Milo raised one finger.

“Perfectly.”

“Good.”

“Except for my dignity.”

“You never had any.”

Milo stood up.

The clock continued ticking.

Somewhere in Bellwick, a mysterious thief was watching.

And somewhere inside the ancient clock tower, a secret waited to be discovered.

The Case of the Laughing Clock had officially begun.

And Milo Finch had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Which, as it turned out, was exactly what the mystery wanted.