No Place Like Holmes by Jason Lethcoe

him, he proceeded to tell his uncle where the woman in the fireworks shop said they were from.
    Snodgrass clenched his forehead, trying to process the information.
    â€œSo what you’re saying is that these papers belong to a special type of highly explosive firework, the same kind that was stolen from the Chinese ship. And it’s all because someone is planning to make—”
    â€œA bomb!” finished Griffin. “Yes, Uncle. I believe that the reason Frederick Dent was kidnapped was because he’s an expert clockmaker. Whoever the culprits are, they intend to make a time bomb so huge that it could devastate London.”
    Snodgrass stared at Griffin, looking skeptical. “But why Dent? There are hundreds of clockmakers in London. Besides, time bombs are commonplace. It wouldn’t take an expert clockmaker to make one.”
    â€œThat’s exactly what I wanted to ask your Information Processor. I suspect that there’s something special about Frederick Dent that we don’t know about.”
    Griffin went over to his uncle’s machine and turned it on. Snodgrass followed. After the screen began to glow and the familiar text appeared, Griffin typed in the words, Who is Frederick Dent?
    The machine emitted several puffs of steam while it worked. Griffin bit his pinky nail, waiting for the result. Finally, after what seemed a full minute later, the answer appeared.
    Frederick Dent, clockmaker, who, with his father, Edward, was famous for building the Westminster Clock in which the famous bell called Big Ben resides .
    Griffin and his uncle stared at the glowing screen, neither of them speaking about what they’d read. Griffin’s mind raced. The implications were bigger than he’d ever imagined!
    â€œImpossible,” Snodgrass said. “I refuse to believe it.”
    Griffin looked up at his uncle with a worried expression. “But think about it, Uncle. If Frederick Dent designed the clock, he would be the one who knew it best. What if criminals are forcing him to convert the Westminster Clock Tower into the biggest time bomb ever made?”
    Snodgrass’s face twitched in annoyance. Griffin suspected that believing in something so grand and far-fetched was difficult for him.
    â€œSpeculation, boy. Pure speculation.” Snodgrass paced around the room, rubbing his forehead. “The two crimes are completely unrelated. Besides, transporting that many explosives to such a public place would be absolutely impossible,” he growled.
    â€œI admit that I haven’t figured everything out yet. But if I’m right, then thousands of Londoners could be at terrible risk,” Griffin said.
    Snodgrass appeared to be pondering his nephew’s words.
    After a moment, he spoke, “This whole case bears further investigation before we form any conclusions. The first matter of business is to figure out where he was taken. We know he was transported underwater, and, since there have been no other Nessie sightings, he must have been released into some sort of cave or secret dock. I have heard rumors about there being underground tunnels beneath the Thames. Perhaps that’s where he’s being held.”
    â€œBut if Dent were just kidnapped, then why hasn’t there been a ransom note?” said Griffin. “I would think that whoever did it would have expressed their demands in some kind of letter by now. So they must want something else from him.”
    Since his uncle seemed to be considering what he was saying, Griffin pressed on, sharing his observations. “Also, James Dunn said he heard gunshots after the monster swallowed Mr. Dent.” Griffin pointed to the red scraps of paper in his uncle’s hand. “And the red paper I found on the shore means that someone set off fireworks at the bank. Maybe the people who took Mr. Dent wanted to scare off any witnesses.”
    Snodgrass scowled. “I admit those are things to consider as