Hugh Dunnit and the giant cupcake

Sweet Tooth had struck again. Hugh was sure of it. There was only one thief in the country that would consider stealing the World's Largest Cupcake and that was Sweet Tooth and his AbSconeders. They were notorious not only for being the only gang of sugar thieves in the world but for having eluded police and detectives for the last decade.
"Found something of interest in there, Hugh," said Hugh's mother as she cleared the breakfast dishes from the kitchen table.
Hugh peered up at her from the top of the newspaper. "Just reading the cartoons, mum," he said. Hugh knew that no Private Investigator spoke about the cases they were working on; discussion might compromise their investigation and in the seedy underworld of thievery everyone was a suspect.
He turned his attention back to the newspaper.
'World's Largest Cupcake Missing,' was the news headline. Hugh read on.
'Police were last night called to Bunn's Bakery on the High Street following an alleged robbery. Detectives, expecting to find the office safe empty and computer equipment missing, were astonished to discover that all that had been taken was Mr Bunn's famous Blueberry Cupcake. Recently bestowed with the coveted title of 'World's Largest Cupcake', the baked good stood at six feet high, with a circumference of ten feet, and weighing upwards of one hundred and twenty-seven kilos. It was a sizeable haul that has left police baffled as to how, why and who stole it. Mr Bunn, having had the news broken to him, was understandably distraught. "I put my heart and soul into that cupcake. Months of planning and preparation it took, not to mention the cost of the ingredients." Mr Bunn later went on to say, "That cupcake was supposed to go to the children's ward at Berkly Hospital. I can't bear to think about how disappointed the children will be when they hear of this."'
Hugh closed the paper. All he could think about were the words 'police baffled' . They ran through his mind, tickling the part of his brain that controlled his urge to investigate. If the police couldn't solve the case, he, Hugh Dunnit, would have to. A buzz of excitement electrified him and he dashed upstairs to his bedroom. In his excitement he yanked open his wardrobe door, nearly pulling it off its hinges, dug out his rucksack and checked its contents: high resolution digital camera, check, sample bottles, check, magnifying glass, check, latex gloves, check, video camera, check. He was set.
When Hugh turned down onto the High Street he saw it was heaving with police. They were diverting nosy townsfolk, who Hugh presumed had read the same news article he had, away from the tape cordon they'd placed around the shop. But Hugh, however, was more than an eager onlooker. The police of Berkly were so used to seeing him at crime scenes they called him 'Hugh the Gumshoe'.
"A'right Gummy," said one suited policeman to Hugh. He was standing beside the tape with his hands behind his back rocking back and forth on his heels. "Come to take a look 'ave ya."
"If you don't mind," stated Hugh.
"Sarge," the policeman called out. "Gumshoe's here."
"That didn't take long," said a voice from inside the shop.
A moment later a man with half-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose, and a long brown mackintosh draped over his shoulders appeared in the doorway.
"Hugh Dunnit. What a surprise?" he said. "Come to solve my crime, have you?"
"You know who did it don't you, Detective," said Hugh as he ducked under the tape and approached the man.
"If I didn't I know you'd be the first to tell me."
"Sweet Tooth strikes again," said Hugh.
"But was he working alone? That's the question."
"A hundred kilo cake? No. Moreover Sweet never works alone."
"The AbSconeders, eh?"
"Victoria Sponge, Current Bun and T.Cake, no less."
"You know them well?" asked the detective.
"I've followed their alleged crimes, yes," said Hugh. "But they've never tackled something this big before. I reckon they've been planning the theft of that cupcake for as long as poor Mr Bunn has been planning the baking of it."
The detective didn't reply. Instead he drew in a sharp intake of breath and then exhaled it steadily. Hugh was sure he'd touched a raw nerve; hit on something the detective hadn't considered. That was the only explanation.
"So what would be your opinion of the crime?" asked the detective.
"May I go in and have a look?" asked Hugh.
"Be my guest," said the detective with an open arm.
Hugh stepped inside Mr Bunn's bakery. The podium, in the middle of the shop, where the cupcake sat, was empty, save for a few crumbs and chocolate chips. Muddy footprints, being photographed by the forensic team, led from the podium through to the back of the bakery. The rest of the glass counters in the front of the shop were untouched.
Hugh studied the footprints by the podium.
"They slid the cupcake off the podium onto something low and flat. They had hold of it either side, you can tell because the footprints are facing each other," Hugh peered closer at the mud. "But they didn't carry the cake, which would make sense, given how heavy it would have been."
"They must have wheeled it out them," said the detective.
Hugh shook his head. "There are no tracks. If they did there would be tracks through the footprints."
Hugh walked toward the door that lead to the back of the bakery, swung it open and examined the floor.
"But they did have something on wheels here," said Hugh, pointing to two sets of black lines. "Skid marks."
"They could have been there before."
Hugh shook his head. "I doubt it. It's just a hunch but they look fresh to me. Very clear and very black. I reckon they had something on wheels that had an extending platform that reached across toward the cake podium. Sweet's henchmen then gently slid the cake onto it and the device retracted. Easy as that."
"Well, that's remarkable," said the detective scratching his head. "But that doesn't solve the problem of where this missing cake is. I'm under huge pressure here, especially from the Mayor, to find it. A ward full of kids are depending on me and my boys in the force."
Hugh looked out toward the scatter of crumbs on the podium. Images of disappointed, sunken faces, tears and the sadness of all those sick children plucked his heart. As his eyes cast down he noticed sparkles on the floor, like little diamonds. Something was catching the light. He stepped closer and realised it was the mud that was glimmering. He crouched down and pinched a few grains between his fingers. It was fine, and gritty. Not at all like the clay mud that appeared in gardens in Berkly. With the spark of an idea in his mind he pulled off his back pack, reached inside and pulled out a sample bottle.
"What have you found, Gumshoe?" asked the detective.
"It's just a hunch I have," said Hugh as he scooped up a few lumps of dirt, stepped into the back of the shop and poured a little water into the vial from the tap. He gave a few taps and shakes and waited for the grains to settle to the bottom, then poured out as much of the water as he could.
Staring at the sediment he gave the detective a wry smile.
"What do you think that is?" Hugh asked.
The detective stared dumbfounded at Hugh's vial. "Dirt?"
"Wrong," said Hugh. "It's sand."
"So, the AbSconeders have been at the beach so what?"
"That's exactly what. The soil in Berkly is clay. They've been walking in sand. There's a beach nearby with a large, abandoned air raid shelter."
The detective's eyes lit up. "You reckon that's where they've taken the cupcake?"
" Undoubtedly. And moreover, despite Current Bun's reputation for gorging on anything sweet I reckon the cake is still in tact. If he'd been let loose at it there'd be far more crumbs and possibly dollops of frosting on the linoleum."
The detective beckoned, with the flick of a forefinger, for one of his officers to approach him. Out of earshot of Hugh he whispered something into the officers ear.
"If you're going out there I want to come too," said Hugh. "That's only fair. I solve the crime I want to capture the criminals."
The detective laid a heavy hand on Hugh's shoulder. "You're too young and its too dangerous."
"That's not fair. I've been following Sweet Tooth's work for as long as I've been alive. I know him better than you. I've proved that today."
"That may be the case. And believe me I'm extremely grateful for your expertise, but as I'm sure you also know, criminals are extremely unpredictable, especially when threatened with exposure. Now, Officer Crabtree will take you home."
The suited officer took Hugh's arm and led him out of the shop.
"It's not fair. It's just not fair," snapped Hugh.
"Why are you so sore, Gummy?" asked the Officer. "You solved the crime. If it weren't for you those kids would 'ave no cake. Isn't that enough?"
As much as Hugh didn't want to admit it, the Officer did have a point. But it was only a small consolation. He knew now he would have to wait to face his foe.