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On the Trail of the Kidnappers (Bo & Friends Book 3)

E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
28 Seiten
Englisch
Sefa Verlagerschienen am26.06.2015
'Bo & Friends' - Smart detective stories for smart children Third Book 'If he isn't back by 8:00 pm, we'll call the police.' Bo's school trip is heading for a bad end. One of his classmates has disappeared without a trace! The police start searching with the K9 squad and helicopters - in vain. A tire mark in the woods brings Bo and his friends YoYo, Simon and MM on the right track. But the adventure soon turns into a nightmare. Their missing classmate is not the only victim that an unscrupulous gang has it in for...

Ulrich Renz was born in Stuttgart, Germany, in 1960. After studying French literature in Paris he graduated from medical school in Lübeck and worked as head of a scientific publishing company. He is now a writer of non-fiction books as well as children's fiction books. He now lives in Lübeck, Germany.mehr
Verfügbare Formate
TaschenbuchKartoniert, Paperback
EUR6,99
E-BookEPUBePub WasserzeichenE-Book
EUR4,99

Produkt

Klappentext'Bo & Friends' - Smart detective stories for smart children Third Book 'If he isn't back by 8:00 pm, we'll call the police.' Bo's school trip is heading for a bad end. One of his classmates has disappeared without a trace! The police start searching with the K9 squad and helicopters - in vain. A tire mark in the woods brings Bo and his friends YoYo, Simon and MM on the right track. But the adventure soon turns into a nightmare. Their missing classmate is not the only victim that an unscrupulous gang has it in for...

Ulrich Renz was born in Stuttgart, Germany, in 1960. After studying French literature in Paris he graduated from medical school in Lübeck and worked as head of a scientific publishing company. He is now a writer of non-fiction books as well as children's fiction books. He now lives in Lübeck, Germany.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9783945090435
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format HinweisePub Wasserzeichen
FormatE101
Erscheinungsjahr2015
Erscheinungsdatum26.06.2015
ReiheBo & Friends. Smart detective novels for smart children
Reihen-Nr.3
Seiten28 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse4262 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.3206065
Rubriken
Genre9201

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe
CHAPTER ONE
Disappeared Without a Trace




If he isn t back by 8:00 pm, we ll call the police, said Mrs. Morahwe-Krieger, her voice just a whisper. Her usually lively face was expressionless. Her black glasses sat askew on her nose, and the blonde highlights in her hair were completely messed up. Her eyes wandered restlessly from one table to the other, where the children were sitting silently in front of their cleaned out plates. It had probably never been as quiet in the dining room of a youth hostel as it was at that moment in Wulfshausen castle. Even the minis, the third-graders in the adjoining room behind the half-open sliding door, didn t make a sound. Normally, their squeaking was hardly bearable. Now the only sound was the ticking of the clock above the counter in front of the kitchen.

Ten minutes to eight.

The history teacher walked slowly back to the teachers table. The clacking of her boots echoed through the high hall like hammer blows. She sat down on her seat next to Zilinski, who was slumped in his chair, staring into space. He was still wearing the tracksuit and sneakers from the afternoon. The characteristic crease in his cheek was now a deep furrow. The trainee from the 7a 1 ran her fingers absently through her curly red mane, which had earned her the nickname Red Zora. Delius had his elbows on his knees and hung his head so that only his shiny, bald dome with the ring of hair around it was visible. He, too, was far away in his thoughts.

Outside the windows it was approaching dusk. Bo imagined Tobi out there somewhere, wandering through the forest. What would he do if he were Tobi and had lost the way? He would walk in one direction, always in a straight line, until eventually finding a road where he would be able to stop a car. But where was the next road? Were there any roads at all in this forest, except the one they had arrived on by bus? Maybe Tobi had found shelter for the night, in some cabin, or in one of the old mine shafts in the area? Bo shuddered involuntarily. A night alone in the woods ...

From the teachers table came the muffled sound of a throat clearing. Zilinski straightened himself to catch a glimpse of the clock behind him. Eight minutes to eight.

The forest run had been his idea. Kiddos, ol Zilinski has come up with something quite special for you, he had announced in his thundering voice after breakfast. Today, you are free to really live it up and go for a run through the forest. Follow your noses into the wilderness ... As always, he was grinning so broadly that his whole face seemed to consist only of teeth. He had once been something like a champion in cross country running, and even now at fifty-odd years old he ran his six miles through the city park every day before school, always together with his mixed breed poodle, Chico.

One who runs, thinks better. One who runs a lot, will become a genius sooner or later. So kiddos, the start is on the lawn in front of the castle garden and then off it goes through the woods, up the hill to the lookout point above, twenty minutes up, ten back - if you take it slow. At the top is a bag of candy, everyone takes one out, but don t eat it straight away! The candy is proof that you really were up there. The first five that come back down with their candy are off kitchen duty. He rubbed his hands and looked around expectantly with his Zilinski-grin. Proper jubilation did not arise, but, of course, no one objected. It was clear, anyway, that Zilinski would not let up. He did that kind of cross-country run on every school trip. Only Blondi had to let the world know that it would be impossible for her to run through the muck with her new Subishi sneakers. Zilinski once again had the opportunity to make his favorite point: Life is not a pony farm. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

On the road outside, a car could be heard. For a moment it seemed to Bo as if it were slowing down at the junction to the castle. Was it possibly bringing Tobi back? But soon the engine noise was lost in the distance.

Of all people, little Tobi. If only it had been Dimitri, who, at six feet tall and with a bodybuilder s physique, would ve slashed his way through somehow. Or Lasse; Bo wouldn t have begrudged him a night outdoors. It would have done quite well for his big mouth. But Tobi, the only one of the boys in school who could still fit through the window to the boiler room when the ping-pong ball was lost during lunch break. Everything about him was tender, and if he d let his blonde locks grow a little longer, you might have taken him for a girl. Everyone in class liked him, even though he sometimes lived in his own world a bit and you could never be quite sure if he really meant something seriously, or if he was just playing the clown.

His stormy passion for Tatyana had especially been the source of much merriment and teasing, yet he endured it with a knowing smile. Bo, however, was sure that there was more to it than theater. In class, his seat was right behind Tobi s, and quite a few times he d noticed that Tobi had his eyes glued to Tatyana. Of all the girls, Tatyana. She was two heads taller than him, looked like a walking sex bomb, and was into the cool skater boys from the ninth grade. The only thing that they had somewhat reasonably in common was their hair color. A few weeks ago, Tobi had shown up wearing a T-Shirt with a small heart and Tatyana printed in the center. But apparently Tatyana had made it clear that she didn t return his love, because the next day Tobi s T-Shirt read, Tatyana, I can wait.




Bo looked at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to eight. The room was quiet as a mouse. Only behind him, at the Russians room s table, was there some whispering.

Bo s gaze shifted to his friends by his side: MM s face was in her hands, and had completely disappeared behind her shiny, black hair. Simon stared somewhere on the floor, as if something devastatingly important were taking place there. From time to time he shook the blond mane from his face with a small head movement. YoYo had one leg over the other and was leaning back. He probably wanted to appear casual, but Bo could tell from his eyes that Tobi s disappearance affected him just as deeply as everyone else. Bo still hadn t gotten entirely used to YoYo s tie, not to mention the tight side part on his sharp new hairstyle. He had turned up looking like this for the first time after Easter break: white shirt, fine cloth trousers, and a black tie. To top it off, he also wore a dark blue jacket with a golden crest on it. Together with his wise guy glasses, he looked like a model boy for a British boarding school. Only his obesity didn t fit into the picture so well.

The others in class considered his style to be the latest version of the Mod movement, but anyone acquainted with YoYo knew that he would never copy any style that already existed. He took his motto - To be always one step ahead of the trend  - quite seriously.

Once again, YoYo made a state secret out of the way he had come by his new style. He had at least dropped a few hints to Bo, which suggested, once again, that it had something to do with a movie. Over Easter break, YoYo had visited his father in Hamburg for the very first time since he had moved out many years ago. They saw a movie together, the exact name of which Bo couldn t remember; but the story took place in a fine British all-boys boarding school where a few students formed a secret association, met in a forbidden cave at night, and recited self-written poems to one another. At the end, the poet s club was busted and everything ended badly - Bo couldn t remember much else about the plot.

This much, in any case, was clear: The film had worked. In a big way.

YoYo was intent on at once establishing such a club himself, where you can meet somewhere at night and recite homemade poetry.

Poetry was his new favorite word. When Bo asked him if he d written a poem himself yet, YoYo shook his head. He wasn t inwardly ready yet; first off he needed to discover the poet within himself. He d packed a whole suitcase full of poetry books for the class trip. No one knew how he had gotten ahold of them. Of course, he d also brought his favorite book, half of which he already knew by heart: Hymns to the Night, by a poet named Novalis. YoYo had very cryptically let Bo take a look inside, but Bo didn t get past the first five lines. It felt like the text was written in some foreign language unfamiliar to him. Poetry isn t about understanding, YoYo lectured him, it s about feeling. And that s what you have to soak up. You just have to open yourself to it.

He d obviously already opened himself a lot to his poetic feeling. He d already acquired a rich treasure trove of verses, which he would deploy on both suitable and unsuitable occasions. Wind is coming. We must try to live, he had said today at the start of the forest run, as Zilinski gave them their final instructions. He covered how important it was to run at a steady pace and never - Understood, kiddos? NEVER!  - stand still. He was looking straight at YoYo, who had never managed to complete a run without a solid break.




At the tables, a whispering and murmuring had begun. Everyone looked at the clock. One minute to eight. Mrs. Morahwe-Krieger stood up, as if in slow motion. Very gently, as if she wanted to kill a little...
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Autor

Ulrich Renz was born in Stuttgart, Germany, in 1960. After studying French literature in Paris he graduated from medical school in Lübeck and worked as head of a scientific publishing company. He is now a writer of non-fiction books as well as children's fiction books. He now lives in Lübeck, Germany.