The Case of the Phantom Cat: The Mysteries of Maisie Hitchins Book 3, by Holly Webb
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The Case of the Phantom Cat: The Mysteries of Maisie Hitchins Book 3, by Holly Webb
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"[A] young Nancy Drew adventure by way of Downton Abbey." —Publishers Weekly review of The Case of the Stolen Sixpence In book three of Holly Webb's The Mysteries of Maisie Hitchins, twelve-year-old Maisie and her dog Eddie are invited to join Maisie's friend Alice on a trip to the country. It's lovely to get away from the London smog, but there is something strange about the manor where the girls are staying. Odd noises, horrid smells, and sightings of a spectral cat keep them up at night. Has Alice's father rented a haunted house? There must be a logical explanation, and Maisie plans to use her detecting skills to find out what it is!
The Case of the Phantom Cat: The Mysteries of Maisie Hitchins Book 3, by Holly Webb - Amazon Sales Rank: #414153 in Books
- Published on: 2015-09-15
- Released on: 2015-09-15
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.06" h x .69" w x 5.38" l, 1.00 pounds
- Binding: Hardcover
- 176 pages
The Case of the Phantom Cat: The Mysteries of Maisie Hitchins Book 3, by Holly Webb Review "Maisie's determination and systematic methods help her to uncover realistic explanations for each of the spectral phenomena, and readers will enjoy sorting through the legitimate clues and red herrings." —Booklist
About the Author
HOLLY WEBB is a former children's book editor who has authored over ninety books for children published in the UK. Series that have crossed the pond include My Naughty Little Puppy, the Rose books, the Lily books, and Animal Magic. Webb lives in Berkshire, England, with her husband, three boys, and Milly, her cat. Visit her website at www.holly-webb.com.
MARION LINDSAY is an illustrator of picture books and novels for children whose work has been published in nine countries. She studied at Cambridge School of Art, graduating in 2010 with a masters degree in children's book illustration. She lives in the United Kingdom.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One Maisie dusted the Chinese vase on the hall table again. It wasn’t in the slightest bit grubby anymore, but she wanted an excuse to hang around abovestairs and she’d polished everything else she could find. She was waiting for her friend Alice to come for her French conversation lesson with Madame Lorimer, who lodged on the second floor. The hall clock struck the quarter hour, and Maisie sighed. Alice clearly wasn’t coming. Again. She had missed her lesson for the third week in a row now. Maisie picked up her dusters and the beeswax polish and walked slowly down the back stairs to the kitchen, where Sally, the maid, was peeling potatoes at the big table. Maisie’s grandmother was poking at a saucepan on the range, boiling a treacle sponge pudding for the lodgers’ dinner. The house at 31 Albion Street was divided up into apartments on the different floors and rented out to lodgers. The best rooms on the first floor were rented to Professor Tobin, who had filled them with glass cases full of strange stuffed animals and other odd relics that he had collected on his travels. An actress, Miss Lottie Lane, lived on the third floor, and of course Madame Lorimer, the French teacher, was on the second. “Goodness, have you only just finished?” Gran frowned at Maisie. Maisie crouched down to fuss over Eddie, her dog. He had been asleep in his basket close to the stove, but now he was leaping up at her happily, his ears flapping. “Oh . . . Were you waiting for Miss Alice again?” Gran said. “She must be very ill,” Maisie murmured worriedly as she stroked Eddie’s silky ears. “It’s more than a fortnight now since we’ve seen her.” “They sent a message to Madame Lorimer, though, didn’t they?” Gran asked, putting the lid back on the pan and dabbing her steam-reddened face with her apron. “Did they not say what was wrong?” “A putrid sore throat—that was all her governess said.” Maisie glanced anxiously at Gran. “But it might have got worse. What if Alice has scarlet fever? George told me that a little girl who lives on his street has it and she’s very bad. The fever’s spread all through the school.” George, the butcher’s boy, had been gorily dramatic about the scarlet fever when he’d delivered the meat that morning. He’d told Maisie that Elizabeth, the little girl who lived a few houses down from his family, was bright red and bumpy all over. He said she looked like a strawberry. Although, come to think of it, how did George know? He’d hardly have gone visiting. But at the time she’d been so fascinated by his description of Elizabeth the strawberry that she hadn’t thought to ask. “And then her skin all started peeling off!” George had hissed. It was like some dreadful ghost story, Maisie thought. “Is it catching?” she’d asked him. “Catching! Of course it’s catching!” George rolled his eyes at her. “Half the school’s got it. And there’s nothing you can do, you know.” He shrugged. “Some people get better. But most don’t,” he added, biting his lip. “I just hope my little sister’s going to be all right. She was playing hopscotch in the street with Elizabeth just a few days ago. I don’t want her going down with the scarlatina.” Maisie frowned. “Scarlatina?” It sounded like some particularly nasty sort of fairy. Perhaps one that went around making people ill. Turning them into strawberries with one flick of her wand. “Same thing,” George explained gloomily. “Just another name for it. Oh, well. Better get on.” Now Maisie looked wide-eyed at Gran, imagining Alice with an awful scarlet rash. Gran sniffed. “But Miss Alice doesn’t go to school, does she? She has her own governess. So she would hardly have been mixing with those sorts of children. And she’s too old for scarlet fever, surely. Don’t fuss, Maisie. The poor child probably just has a sore throat, like that governess of hers said.” Maisie smiled. “If Alice has any sense, she’ll stay ill for as long as she can. I’d be ill if I had to have lessons from a governess as horrible as Miss Sidebotham every day.” But she was still playing with Eddie’s ears, running them through her fingers and furrowing her brow. “Do you think I could go and visit her?” “Did you dust everywhere upstairs?” Gran asked. “Yes,” Maisie sighed. She didn’t enjoy housework, but she was good at it because she’d had a great deal of practice. Even though they owned their house and it was a tall one on a smart-ish London street, they certainly weren’t rich, and Gran needed Maisie’s help. Thirty-one Albion Street had a great many stairs, and there was a lot of it to keep clean. Between Maisie and Gran and Sally, they managed it all and made a respectable living from the lodgers. But it had meant that Maisie had had to leave school well before she was twelve to help. Gran had told her that if anyone asked, she was to say that she had lessons from Madame Lorimer. There had been seventy children in Maisie’s class at school, though, and Maisie reckoned her teacher had hardly noticed she was gone. “Oh, go on then, Maisie. Go and see Miss Alice and find out how she is!” “Can I really?” Maisie hugged her. “Oh, but, Gran, they won’t let me in to visit her looking like this, will they?” Maisie looked down at her faded wool dress and her apron. She was clean and neat, but certainly not smart. The servants at Alice’s lovely house would know at once that she wasn’t a suitable friend for a young lady. “Go to the kitchen door, Maisie, for goodness’ sake. All this detecting and you still haven’t an ounce of common sense. Ask after Miss Alice and say Madame Lorimer sent you. Tell them you’ve a message for her, sending her good wishes, or something like that. And put your hat on!” Gran called as Maisie dashed out of the kitchen. “Oh, and don’t forget the dog! He’s getting under my feet!” *** Maisie tiptoed down the steps into the basement and knocked quietly at the kitchen door of Alice’s house. She had never been inside before—they usually met at Maisie’s or occasionally in the street when Alice was out walking. But she was almost always with a maid or her governess, which meant they couldn’t do much more than smile and wave. Maisie had seen Miss Sidebotham tell Alice off for even that. “Now be good,” she whispered to Eddie sternly. He had seen a cat on their way over and Maisie hadn’t managed to grab his collar in time. He had barked madly and chased it halfway down the street, nearly tripping up several ladies out shopping. It had taken her ages to catch him, and it was very embarrassing. Eddie looked up at her innocently and wagged his tail. Maisie sighed. He clearly didn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Maisie was about to knock again when the kitchen maid answered the door. “Whatever do you want?” She stared at Maisie in surprise, then eyed Eddie suspiciously. Maisie smiled at her, trying not to look nervous. “I’ve come to bring a message for Miss Alice Lacey,” she explained. “From Madame Lorimer, her French teacher. Madame wants to know how Miss Alice is.” “Oh . . .” The girl, who wasn’t all that much older than Maisie, nodded. “I suppose you’d better come in then . . . Not him!” she added, in a genteel shriek, pointing at Eddie. “Cook would have my guts for garters. You’d better tie him up outside.” “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” Maisie whispered to Eddie as she twisted the rope through the railings. “I should have put your diamond collar on—that would show her.” Maisie and Eddie had tracked down an emerald and pearl necklace for a young actress, and the actress’s fiancé, who was a lord, had sent both Maisie and Eddie jewels as a reward. Maisie was very proud of her bracelet and Eddie’s collar, but they were a bit of a worry to wear. She kept them hanging on the wall of her room instead, in a little glass case that Professor Tobin had given her. “Who is it, Lizzie?” someone called, and the maid bustled Maisie in. “She’s come calling for Miss Alice. From her French teacher,” the maid said, pushing Maisie ahead of her, so that she ended up standing in front of a large newspaper. Its reader was sitting at a scrubbed wooden table much like Gran’s, except that it was in the middle of a kitchen about four times the size, with the very newest, smartest, shiniest kitchen range and shelves of huge tins and trays and china. The person reached around her paper for the cup of tea that was next to her on the table, and then folded the paper up so she could stare at Maisie. It was the cook. “Would you be the young lady that Miss Alice mentioned?” she asked. “Been working at a theater? Hunting for lost jewelry?” “Yes.” Maisie nodded, hoping that this wasn’t going to get her thrown out. If the cook knew about the mysterious missing emerald, it could only be because Alice had told her. Perhaps she and Alice were friends. “Is Miss Alice any better?” she asked anxiously. “We only heard that she had a bad sore throat, but I haven’t seen her for weeks.” The cook took a sip from her teacup. “She’s been confined to her room. They did think it might be diphtheria, but that was just the ninny of a governess making a fuss. Any news from upstairs this afternoon, Lizzie?” she said to the kitchen maid. “Miss Alice said could she not have milk pudding for her supper again, but Miss Sidebotham said it was that or calves’-foot jelly. So the upstairs maids told me, anyway. And after Miss Sidebotham had gone, Miss Alice told Mary-Ann that if she brought her calves’-foot jelly, she’d throw it in the fire.” Maisie giggled. “She sounds as though she’s getting better, then.” The cook nodded at her approvingly. “Did I hear Lizzie telling you to tie up a dog?” “I did tie him up very carefully,” Maisie promised. But she checked behind her just in case Eddie had slipped his collar and followed her. “I’m sure you did, dear. But Miss Alice likes dogs. I always used to let her cut them out of gingerbread. Dogs and elephants. And I haven’t an elephant on hand to cheer her up, so I reckon you and a dog might do. Lizzie, fetch me some of that gingerbread you made yesterday.” “But Miss Alice is only having milk pudding!” Lizzie protested. “Stuff and nonsense. She’ll waste away, poor child. Go and fetch your dog, Miss Whatever-Your-Name-Is. Then you can leave your cape and hat here. And, Lizzie, find Mary-Ann. You can’t go sneaking upstairs.” When Maisie came back in with Eddie, who was wagging his tail madly at the delicious smells coming out of the range, there was another maid in the kitchen, wearing a smart black dress, a frilled apron, and a pretty cap. But despite her nice outfit, she beamed at Maisie in a friendly sort of way and cooed over Eddie. “Little sweetheart! He’s bound to make Miss Alice feel better. Come on—I’ve found a laundry basket. Will he jump in it, if Miss Sidebotham comes spying around?” Maisie nodded. “He’ll stay if I tell him.” Which was almost always true. Mary-Ann hurried Maisie up the back stairs. “These go all the way to the first floor,” she explained, puffing as she lugged the big wicker basket along. “There’s a flight of marble stairs down to the main hall, but we don’t use that. Shhh!” They were in a beautifully carpeted passage now and Maisie could hear someone coming—someone with slow, heavy footsteps. “The butler!” Mary-Ann whispered. “He’s a real stickler, likes everything perfect. Put the little dog in the basket!” Mary-Ann whipped the plate of gingerbread out of the basket where she’d been carrying it balanced on top of the washing, and Maisie dropped Eddie in and covered him in a sheet. Eddie poked his nose out and peered at her, his ears twitching doubtfully, but when she put her finger to her lips and shushed him, he wriggled back underneath. Just in time, Mary-Ann pushed Maisie behind a long velvet curtain. Maisie held her breath as the footsteps rounded the corner of the passage and came to a stop. “What are you doing, girl?” a treacly voice inquired. “Miss Sidebotham said she thought Miss Alice’s pillowcases should be changed, sir. What with her having a temperature . . .” “Hmm. Don’t let the master of the house see you carrying baskets of washing about,” he said. “No, sir.” Maisie could tell that Mary-Ann was trying not to giggle. She hoped it wasn’t because the washing was wriggling too much. “He’s gone!” Mary-Ann whispered finally from around the curtain. “Come on! Hurry!” Maisie grabbed Eddie out of the basket and followed the older girl down the hallway. They were going too quickly for her to take in much of the house, except that it seemed to sparkle. All the curtains were made of the same rich velvet as the one she’d been hiding behind, and pictures glittered at her from gilded frames. “This is Miss Alice’s room.” Mary-Ann knocked lightly and opened the door, holding it for Maisie and Eddie to walk in. Maisie couldn’t help gasping at the prettiness of Alice’s room. The bed was draped with flowered curtains and there were two pink velvet chairs on either side of the fire. At one side of the room was the most enormous dollhouse, so big that it needed a table all to itself. “Maisie!” Alice had been lying down, just a small lump under the lace-covered bedspread, but she sat up, staring. She looked dreadful, Maisie thought, examining her anxiously. Her face was a pale yellow, with dark shadows around her eyes, and her pretty blond hair had gone all stringy. But at least she wasn’t in the slightest bit strawberry-looking. “Now don’t excite yourself, miss!” Mary-Ann whispered. “Cook sent her up here, but we don’t want you taking a turn for the worse. I’ll stay outside and pretend to be dusting—then I can let you know if anyone comes. And Cook’s sent you up some gingerbread, miss.” Mary-Ann took it out of the basket again and laid it on a little table, then whisked out to guard the door. “What happens if someone does come?” Alice asked, wide-eyed. Her voice was croaky, as though her throat still wasn’t quite better. “I’ll hide under the bed,” Maisie said. She checked beneath the frilly dust ruffle. “I could practically live under here!” Then she perched by Alice’s feet and looked at her worriedly. “You don’t look well. I did wonder whether you might have scarlet fever.” Alice shook her head. “No. Miss Sidebotham says it was all because I went for a walk when it was raining and didn’t bother to change my stockings afterward, but I think that’s nonsense.” She sighed. “I’m ever so sick of being ill. It’s boring. It’s so nice that you and Eddie have come.” “Haven’t you had other visitors?” Maisie asked as she put Eddie down on the bed. “No—people probably thought it was scarlet fever and didn’t want to risk it. But Papa visits me every day when he gets back from his office. He said he was going to have a surprise for me today—something I should really like. I tried to guess, but he wouldn’t tell.” Alice smiled at Maisie. “There you are, a chance to practice your detecting. You can tell me what the surprise is. Solve the mystery for me!” Maisie pulled her magnifying glass out of her coat pocket and laid it on the silken bedcover. Then she found her notebook and pencil stub and stared at Alice, trying to put on a serious detective face. “Any clues?” “No-ooo . . .” Alice shook her head. “He said I was sure to like it, that’s all.” She reached over to stroke Eddie. “Perhaps he’s bought me a dog! Or a kitten . . .” She gave a little sigh. “Sorry, Eddie. But I would love a kitten. Oh, I hope Papa won’t be held up at the office.” She peered at the little gilt clock on the mantelpiece. “He should be here any minute, I think.” Maisie squeaked and jumped off the bed. “I’d better go then!” Alice laughed. “Oh, don’t! He’d like you.” The door suddenly flew open and Mary-Ann peered around the edge of it, flapping her hands at Maisie. “It’s Mr. Lacey! Hide!” Maisie looked at the frilly dust ruffle around the bed, but Alice caught her hand. “Honestly. I’ve told him all about your adventures, Maisie. He won’t be cross.” Footsteps sounded and a tall, fair-haired man strode in and stopped in surprise when he saw Maisie and Eddie. “Papa!” Alice called out croakily. “This is Maisie—the girl I told you about! She came to visit because I’d not been to my French lesson for so long and she was worried.” “That’s very good of you.” Mr. Lacey gave Maisie a little half bow. She bobbed her knees in a curtsey and started to sidle toward the door. “Don’t go, Maisie!” Alice pleaded. Maisie looked across at Mr. Lacey, who nodded, waving her toward one of the pink velvet chairs. “Alice is right—please do stay. I haven’t seen her looking this bright for a fortnight. She’s even got color in her cheeks.” He smiled at her. “And I’ve some very good news for you, dearest Alice.” Alice’s father tugged thoughtfully at the end of his blond mustache. Maisie watched him, wondering what it was he did at his office to make so much money. This was the largest, grandest house she had ever been in. It was even grander than the theater she’d worked at, which had been quite shabby when you saw it without the gaslights and the excitement of the show. It was difficult to detect someone who was sitting next to you, Maisie realized. She couldn’t stare at Mr. Lacey without being rude. She had to make do with quick glances. She thought he must smoke cigars, or perhaps a pipe—his mustache was stained brown at the ends. And his front teeth stuck out a little! A pipe, then, and he’d held it in his teeth so much that it had pushed them out. Maisie felt quite proud of herself. “So, shall I tell you about my surprise?” Mr. Lacey asked, interrupting Maisie’s thoughts. “Oh, yes, please! I’ve been wondering all day.” Alice sat up further against her lace-edged pillows, watching him eagerly. Her father beamed at her. “I’ve rented a house in the country for you to go to, my dear, so that you can breathe the fresh air and get properly well.” Alice’s eyes widened. “Are you coming too?” she asked hopefully. “I wish I could,” her father told her. “But I have to be at the office. Miss Sidebotham will go with you.” “Oh . . .” Alice sighed and drooped against her pillows. Her father watched her anxiously and tugged his mustache again. “Unless . . . Unless you would like to go too, Miss Maisie?”
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful. Mysterious Wysteria By Dienne Young Maisie is a practical girl. Perhaps it comes of being the granddaughter of a boarding house owner who has to help with running the place. In any case, Maisie is quick to realize things are not always as they seem, which makes her a great little detective.Unfortunately, Maisie doesn’t have a lot of friends. Sure, she chats with the residents of the boarding house and there’s always George the butcher’s boy. But her only real friend is one she only gets to see when she comes for French lessons at the boarding house with Madame Lorimer. Alice’s station in life is quite a bit above that of poor lowly Maisie, so it would be impossible for the two to socialize more regularly. Under normal circumstances, that is.But poor Alice has been sick lately, so Maisie goes to call on her, as a messenger from Madame Lorimer, of course. Alice’s household servants conspire to get Maisie and her dog Eddie an audience with the little lass, but unfortunately her father comes home a bit sooner than expected and catches the two of them together. But seeming to have a bit more sense than his peers of his day, Alice’s father is not only not upset, he’s rather pleased to see Alice looking happy for a change. So when he tells Alice that he has arranged for her to spend time in the country at Wisteria Lodge, he graciously allows Maisie, and even Eddie, to go with her. Oh dear, I’m afraid Mrs. Sidebotham the governess will be none to happy about this.It turns out that Wisteria Lodge isn’t quite as idyllic as it sounds. In fact, the boy at the train station tells the girls that it’s haunted. Indeed, there are some frightful things about the place – shrieks and other odd noises. A terrible smell in the library. A phantom cat. Maybe the place really was built over an old graveyard. The servants quit en masse (having already been paid) while Mrs. Sidebotham retires with the vapors.But practical Maisie isn’t going to give up so easily. There has to be rational explanations and she’s going to put her detective skills to use finding them.The Maisie books are enjoyable for adults and kids alike. Maisie is a plucky girl and kids (probably girls especially) will enjoy solving the mystery along with her. The book offers suspense without being to scary for young children and there is nothing a parent could object to about the book. I do think that some kids might have trouble relating to the setting of the book, especially the social roles related to the time period. Modern American kids might not be familiar with the idea of having a fixed “station” in life based on your birth and might find it a bit off-putting. But that aspect is not entirely essential to the story and shouldn’t interfere with enjoyment of the story. Recommended for the target audience.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful. "Seven for a secret, never to be told." By Biblioholic Beth Maisie lives with her Grandmother in a large house, taking in boarders. Her closest friend, Alice, usually comes for French lessons from a tutor who lives there, but hasn't been by in ages. When Maisie goes to visit, Alice's father invites her to accompany Alice to the countryside to stay for a visit as Alice heals from being ill. However, when the girls arrive (with Alice's horrid nanny), the house appears to be haunted. Can Maisie and Alice figure it out before the ghost gets them?I'm always looking for interesting books for my 8-year-old daughter. She goes through phases where she loves to read...and then she doesn't. I typically look for something that is fun, interesting, has a decent storyline, and maybe even has some images to go with. 'The Case of the Phantom Cat' filled the bill on all these requirements. I just finished reading it, and while it would not be my chosen bedtime reading, it is an interesting story with an age-appropriate strong lead character.While this book is the third in the series, it is easily read as a stand-alone. There are a few hints in the beginning about prior "cases" that Maisie solved, but nothing that would leave a reader wondering what was going on. It's done quite well, particularly for a younger audience. I would happily purchase books one and two for my daughter to read as well. I also like the activities to "test your detective skill" at the end of the book - basically, did the reader retain what they read? There are also a couple of puzzles to solve so that every reader can feel like a detective right along with Maisie.These books are great for readers to read on their own, but would also work quite well for anyone reading aloud - bedtime, to a class (particularly with Halloween coming!)...it would translate quite well to reading a chapter at a time. Overall, a proficient 3rd-grade reader should have no trouble with this book, and an advanced 2nd-grader would probably be fine as well.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful. Great mystery for your 7-10 year old--aimed more at girls than boys By Michael I really like this book for my children. Unfortunately my boy is the right age to read it and it didn't resonate with him. I'm not saying it's a girl's only book, but he isn't into a book that's about a girl and her friend. I think my girls will love it, but my five year old is too young to read it. I think our girls will really enjoy this when they're 7 or 8.It's well written. The characters are interesting and they solve interesting mysteries that aren't too spooky. Many books for this age have kids having very adult adventures--not sexy but action way beyond their age. This seems more real because it feels age appropriate without being really politically correct preachy. I really like the writing style and will be trying more of the series! There are some some good vocabulary terms which the young reader may not know, so they may ask questions or need help looking up a word here and there. It has a "British" feel to it and maybe feels slightly "stuffy". But the book is a lot of fun too! There are a lot of black-and-white cartoon drawings which fit the mood of everything perfectly!In the end, I think it's great! I think my girls will like this a lot!
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The Case of the Phantom Cat: The Mysteries of Maisie Hitchins Book 3, by Holly Webb
