Supercomics Of Strange Crimes

“Well,” he said softly, “that is a very strange thing to find on a festival morning.”

Mina nodded. Strange was exactly the word. The wall had not simply been painted over. The mural was gone as neatly as a comic page pulled from a book.

She ran along the gate, searching for a loose place. The lock hung from the middle bar, shiny and closed. Mina tugged it once. It did not move.

She crouched and studied the ground. The sidewalk was dusty near the wall, but there were no footprints. Not even one.

“How could someone take a whole wall without leaving a mark?” Mina asked.

Mr. Bell set the tray on a nearby bench. “Perhaps the wall is playing a trick.”

Mina looked at him.

He smiled kindly. “Or perhaps we should look for a clue.”

Mina liked clues. She carried a small notebook in her pocket for drawing comic panels and writing down odd things. She pulled it out and sketched the lock. Then she drew the empty wall.

“First clue,” she said. “The gate is still locked.”

“Good noticing,” said Mr. Bell.

Mina searched the sidewalk again. She checked behind the flower pots, under the bench, and beside the festival sign. She found a bottle cap, three smooth stones, and a red button. She found no paint, no brushes, and no footprints.

A little breeze brushed her cheeks. The flags snapped overhead.

Mina stood up, frustrated. “Maybe I am looking in the wrong place.”

Mr. Bell handed her a cinnamon roll. “A mystery is easier when your brain has breakfast.”

The roll was warm and soft. Sweet sugar stuck to Mina’s fingers. She took one bite, then looked at the wall again.

The empty bricks seemed to stare back.

“What if the thief went over the gate?” Mina asked.

She checked the top. It was too high for her to reach, and the brick ledge above it was clean. No dust had been moved. No shoe marks showed.

“What if the thief went under the gate?”

Mina lay on her stomach and peered beneath it. She saw a dry leaf, a pebble, and a tiny silver thread. She pulled out the thread and placed it in her notebook.

“Could this be from a cape?” she asked.

“Maybe,” said Mr. Bell. “Or maybe it is from a festival flag.”

Mina frowned. She wanted the first answer to be right. It sounded like a supercomic mystery.

Then she noticed something near the far end of the wall. A small square of paper was stuck to the brick. It was pale blue, almost the same color as the morning sky.

Mina pressed her face near the gate.

A picture showed a tiny masked hero with a star on his shirt. Under the picture were three black lines, like speed marks. A red arrow pointed away from the wall.

“Supercomic!” Mina said.

She reached through the bars, but the sticker was too far away. Her fingers brushed the air.

Mina ran to the park and found a long fallen branch. She brought it back and used it to nudge the sticker. The paper lifted at one corner, then slipped behind a clump of weeds.

“Oh, no.”

She pushed the branch into the weeds. The sticker moved farther away.

Mr. Bell came around the gate. “Careful, Mina. We do not want to tear it.”

Mina stopped. Her cheeks felt hot. She had wanted to solve everything quickly, but now the clue was nearly hidden.

“I made it worse,” she said.

“You stopped before it tore,” Mr. Bell replied. “That was a good choice.”

Mina looked at the narrow space beneath the gate. Her arm could fit, but not her shoulder. She lay down again and reached through. The bricks scratched her sleeve. Her fingers touched the edge of the sticker.

It was cold and damp from the morning dew.

Mina pulled gently.

The paper came free, but only half of it. The other half stayed stuck to the brick. The masked hero split down the middle. The arrow was still there, pointing toward the end of Marigold Street.

Mina sat up with the torn piece in her palm.

“It says where to go,” she said. “But it is torn.”

Mr. Bell looked at the arrow. “Which way is it pointing?”

Mina followed it with her eyes. Past the flower shop. Past the bus stop. Toward the old library.

The library had been closed for the festival morning while people set up tables outside. Its tall windows were covered with paper stars. Mina had visited many times, but she had never thought of it as part of a mystery.

She looked back at the empty wall.

“I need to find the mural,” Mina said. “Before the parade begins.”

Mr. Bell lifted the tray of cinnamon rolls. “Then you should not go alone.”

Mina almost said she could manage. She was already holding a clue. She had found the sticker. She knew how to follow an arrow.

But she remembered the branch sliding into the weeds. She remembered how quickly the clue had almost torn.

“Will you come with me?” she asked.

“I will walk with you to the library,” said Mr. Bell. “And I will bring snacks.”

Mina smiled. “That counts as help.”

They started down Marigold Street. Mina kept the sticker flat in her notebook, but the paper had begun to change. The blue color faded each time the sunlight touched it. The black lines grew lighter.

At the flower shop, Mina held the notebook open.

“Still pointing to the library,” she said.

A gust of wind lifted the page. Mina caught it just in time.

“Maybe the sticker is old,” said Mr. Bell.

“Or maybe the clue is disappearing,” Mina replied.

They walked faster, but not too fast. Mina did not want the paper to fly away. Festival sounds grew louder behind them. Children laughed near the square. Drums began to tap out a happy beat.

At the corner, Mina stopped.

A second arrow was printed on the sticker, very faint. It pointed left, toward a narrow lane between the library and the old post office.

“I did not see that before,” Mina said.

Mr. Bell leaned closer. “The sun must have warmed the paper.”

Mina carefully touched the sticker. It felt thin as an onion skin.

“What if all the clues fade?” she asked.

“Then we will look closely while we can,” said Mr. Bell.

The old library came into view. Its stone steps were covered with fallen marigold petals. A sign on the door read CLOSED FOR FESTIVAL SETUP. Behind the glass, rows of books stood in neat lines. The place smelled faintly of paper and dust, even through the door.

Mina climbed the first step. The sticker was now much paler. The little hero’s mask had almost vanished.

She held it up to the light.

The arrow toward the library remained, but its tip was breaking apart.

“We found the first real lead,” Mina said. “It points here.”

Mr. Bell set the cinnamon rolls beside the door. “Then we know where to search next.”

Mina looked down the narrow lane. A string of paper stars hung above it, turning slowly in the breeze. On the nearest star was a tiny black mark shaped like a comic speech bubble.

She opened her notebook and placed the fading sticker between two clean pages. When she lifted her hand, a small blue bit of paper clung to her finger.

Mina held it gently, as if it were a tiny wing.

The mural was still missing, and the festival was still waiting, but the mystery now had a path. Mina and Mr. Bell stood safely beneath the library’s bright paper stars, ready to ask for help and follow the clue together.

Mina learned that even the smallest clue can point the way when careful eyes and kind helpers work together.

End of chapter one. 5 more chapters and about 9,980 words in the full book.