Molly Moon & the Morphing Mystery

And so the dogs began to trot. So intent were they on following Black that they didn’t smell the two docile, hypnotized cats that sat dozing in a basket that hung on a hook outside a hat shop’s entrance, waiting for their owners’ return.

Luckily the London traffic was dense on this winter night. So although Black’s taxi had already driven away, its progress was slow, and the dogs were soon able to pinpoint the vehicle and then follow it. It weaved past restaurants, boutique shops, and gallery-lined streets.

As the dogs trotted and ran, Petula told them all about what had happened back at Briersville Park and how Miss Hunroe had stolen Molly’s special time crystals. As Petula barked and yapped and growled, Molly marveled at what it was like being a dog. She could smell so much! It was incredible. The ground beneath her feet told stories of who had been there, from the smells that they left, and the places that they passed all threw up glorious, complex smells that painted pictures. Finally the cab drove into a beautiful square with big white stucco houses surrounding it and a small park in the middle of it.

Here the buildings were very fine, with ornate entrances and tall multipaned windows. Molly as Magglorian, Micky as Stanley, and Petula stopped behind a red pillar box and watched as Black climbed out of his cab. Checking up and down the street to see that no one was spying on him, he walked up the steps of a pretty hotel building with three flags above its stone entrance. A porter opened the brass doors for him and welcomed him inside. Out came a warm smell of roast potatoes and vegetable soup and starched linen and lily-of-the-valley soap.

“Who is he?” Petula panted.

“He’s as bad as Miss Hunroe,” Molly answered. They watched Black through the downstairs window of the hotel. He stood in the lobby talking to the receptionist. Molly and Micky told Petula all about him and Hypnotism, Volume Two: The Advanced Arts. Petula nodded as she took in all the facts.

“That’s about all we know,” Molly as Magglorian finished.

“In fact, it’s really bad, Petula.” Molly leaned her head on Petula’s neck. “If we don’t find out how to do this meego thing, sooner or later we won’t be able to keep going. We’ll get stuck in someone else’s body.”

“I’m scared,” Micky confessed.

“Half of me wants to go back to Briersville Park and make sure everyone is all right,” Molly said, “but—”

“You’re not going to do that,” Petula interrupted with a growl. “Everyone at Briersville Park is much safer than you. This is serious, Molly. You’ve got to get that book.”

Molly as Magglorian chewed her lip, and she looked at Petula. Petula was so very sure of herself and had a sensible quality to her. They watched Black step into the elevator.

“Do you think he’s staying the night?” Micky wondered. Molly bristled her fur against the cold air and shivered.

“We could try and get inside. We could follow him.”

“Dog in an elevator? A bit risky. Trust me,” warned Petula. “Before you know it, that bellboy will call the dogcatchers.”

Then another black taxi pulled up in front of the building. Its door opened, and a girl in a pink furry coat with short, dark curly hair stepped out.

“That’s Lily Black,” Molly told Petula. “We saw pictures of her. Theobald’s daughter.”

As Lily Black stood beside the front passenger window paying her fare, she glanced up and down the street. The dogs could smell that her ordinary smell of popcorn and the scent of strawberry shampoo in her hair was shrouded in a sort of electric lemon. Molly’s new dog instincts told her at once that this meant that the girl was very nervous. As her cab drove off, sending a cloud of exhaust into the air, Lily walked around to the side of the building, where there was an entrance that led to the back of the hotel. She spent a few minutes checking out the area, and then she came back. Glancing up at the trees with a snarling look on her face, she marched up the hotel’s front steps and went inside.

“Why don’t we go around the back, too?” suggested Molly. “Perhaps there’ll be a fire escape up the back of the building and we can walk up it.”

“No!” Petula exclaimed. “Fire escapes are practically impossible for dogs. They’re made of metal and have holes that your paws slip through.”

“Of course they do,” Molly said. “Oh, Petula, I’m so glad you’re here.”