The Case Of The Stolen Art

Excellence Award in the 'Read Write Repeat 2015' competition

DING! My phone disrupts me from my daydream. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not just any old phone. It’s my super-secret spy phone. I am a super-secret spy agent and my name is Jacqueline Grant, A.K.A. J.G. My phone only rings when there is an emergency, like B.E.S. committing a new crime.
B.E.S. (Bad Evil Spy) is the name for an agency who tries to take over the world by committing crimes. Luckily, G.A.L (Good Awesome Lovely) agency is there to stop B.E.S. There’s no time to lose, with supersonic speed I get dressed in G.A.L uniform and head of to G.A.L H.Q.
Our H.Q. is disguised as a playground; B.E.S. hates fun areas. I slide down a 20
metre slide into the earth to our H.Q. where we have computer and science labs and a secret spy gadget invention area.
As I arrive, the G.A.L. leader Sally Smith A.K.A. Super-Spy, A.K.A. S.S. tells me there are problems in Barcelona. “A lot of art keeps disappearing from there”, she reports, “You need to go and figure out what’s wrong.”
The Supersonic Spy Jet flies me to Spain and when the stairs are let down my ears finally unblock. “Blocked ears really hurt”, I think to myself. I take the Metro to La-Rambla, a huge market street.
I hear shrieks from La-Rambla and run to the sound just in time and see a horse and carriage disappearing around the corner with what looked like Jemma Jonne in it. Jemma is a B.E.S. agent! I jump into the next carriage: “Follow that carriage!” I shout.
I see Jemma get out of her ride but lose her in the crowd by Casq BatIlo. “Okaaaay.”
I say slowly, and look around. Casa Batilo is an amazing building that looks like a dragon. “Surely there would be art inside”, I think and sneak inside pretending to be another tourist.
Once inside, I break free from the group. I search the whole building but no sign of Jemma or other B.E.S. agents. My heart sinks. Feeling dejected I send a message to S.S. who tells me to relax, so I decide to ride my scooter to Park Guell on top of the mountain.
I admire the breathtaking view but then hear some cries. I run to the sound and find empty art displays, broken instruments and muddy footprints. I put my foot next to one of the footprints; they are almost the same size! “Jemma!”. I head off, sprinting in the direction of the foot prints.
Arriving at the next art display, I see Jemma approaching. I ask an artist if I could sit with him, he happily agrees. When Jemma comes along I grab her hand and knock the bag out. “Huh!” I hear her gasp. There on the floor lay at least 20 paintings!
I pick them up and head to the Manager, who couldn’t thank me enough for finding the paintings. Meanwhile S.S has sent back-up who are dealing with Jemma.
“Case Closed!”

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