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Prologue The evening sky hung heavy with anticipation as stars shimmered in their celestial dance, each one preparing to bear witness to a spectacle like no other. Tonight, in a grand celebration of talent, perseverance and excellence, the most illustrious figures from the realms of arts, entertainment and innovation would gather under a dazzling canopy of the universe. The Bulls Eye Awards ceremony would be held tonight in the esteemed Sydney Opera House. All onlookers, whether at home or watching live, will be awaiting the highly regarded Bulls eye Award to be awarded. This award will be received by only the most perfect and disciplined Australian who has had one of the most influential years in our country. This award is a pure-gold bull with glistering ruby eyes. This award could do more than inspire the hearts of Australians, but it had the unlikely chance of uniting four of the most unique characters: Detective Rodger, one of the best at his job will also have to cope with a pestering, clumsy, and insolent 8-year-old nephew. He will have to push past the disrespect of a child to save tonight’s show. Jet, pestering, and clumsy 8-year-old nephew of Detective Rodger. He is currently staying with his uncle while his parents embark on a business trip. Ever since he was 4, he has been obsessed with the Bulls Eye Awards and has always dreamed of attending. Avery Prenton, a well-known makeup artist with an intense ego, has high hopes of winning the Bulls Eye Award this year and will be furious if she loses. Magnus Graham, a mountain guide and a natural climber. On the outside, he seems like a sweet guy with a cute smile. But on the inside, he has been plotting the heist of a lifetime.
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CHAPTER 1
RODGER Curtains up, Lights off “When You have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” -Sherlock Holmes
I arrived home. It was quiet. I took seven weary steps toward the front door, and the smell of fresh parchment lead my nose to find a small, white slip of paper under my doormat. As my fingers unfolded the delicate piece of paper, I knew that once I’d opened it, there was no going back. My eyes followed the strange letters cut out of the newspaper. I panicked as I read the words,
I shuddered and jumped in my place as my nephew Jet grabbed my shoulders and broke me out of my intense train of thought. “Haha! Scared ya,” he shouted in my face as he ran towards the unlocked door of my house. He fiddled with the bronze knob, then let himself in, his muddy shoes creating a trace of dirt. I stood there and watched for a second in disbelief that he would dare try that at his parent’s home. I ran after him, worried that Jet would break something. Jet’s parents were always away on business trips and had always left him in my care. So, I was stuck with my disobedient, rebellious, and very rude nephew for the entire week. And to top it off, I had gotten word that a mysterious crime would be attempted at the Sydney Opera House tonight. Boy was I in for a rough weekend. After moments of contemplating whether this was some joke, or if there was going to be a crime attempt, I decided to go to the Bulls Eye award ceremony. 5
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I stumbled up the stairs a few minutes later, to find Jet unpacking his full bag of clothes. Or at least I wish they were clothes. His entire bag was filled with action figures from his favourite show, “Bluey.” Once all his toys were laid nicely on his bed, there was a small quantity of scrunched-up clothing in the bottom of his bag. He then grabbed them and flung them to the other side of the room, where they landed all over the once neat and tidy floor. “Come on Jet. Get dressed. We’re going to the Opera House.” “Why?” Jet replied cheekily. “Because it might be nice to watch the award ceremony,” I responded, trying to hide the real reason we were going. “Oh really? That would be a dream come true,” he responded, his eyes wide and curious. Several moments later, Jet screamed and ran down the stairs, pretending to be a superhero. “I can fly,” he said, showing off his cape. I shook my head, dismissing his outfit, then said, “Let's go.” gesturing to the door. He ran out the door and jumped off the porch into the daylight. I grabbed my long beige coat and closed the door behind me. “Get in the car. Gently.” I said to take extra precautions. He ran to the car, and banged into the door with his forehead, leaving a dreadful dent in the middle of the black car door. After rubbing his head and ignoring the damage he had just made to my car, Jet jumped into his seat. As we pulled out of the driveway and headed to the Opera house, I couldn’t help but wonder what secrets and mysteries were about to unfold. The car fell silent. After an incredibly long car ride, we arrived at the front of the venue. “All right. Out of the car.” I said to break the long, tense silence, as I can honestly say, we didn’t get along well. He quickly unplugged his seatbelt, and ran out, slamming the door behind him. The Opera House was a large and rather majestic white building, surrounded by big white gates, and golden lights hanging from the ledge of the balcony of the first floor. As we walked into the large dark room, we found ourselves in the presence of the colossal stage. In the centre of the lit-up stage, the Bulls Eye Trophy was striking a pose, looking beautiful for all to see. The bull’s ruby eyes glinted as though it was winking at us in the most discrete way possible. We continued to walk around the theatre when I noticed a man backstage, behind the curtains. The guests 6
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had started arriving, and Jet was already causing mischief. However, I was eager to find out who this person was. I crept a little bit closer to make out a small badge on the man's shirt. ‘Mountain guide.’ He was tall with brown hair and big muscles. He could have passed as me. I stayed perfectly still as he swung around and ran off, further backstage. I then turned around and headed back to the main theatre area, and back to my seat, where Jet was sitting, fiddling with a pen he had picked from someone’s pocket. I sat down next to him, and snatched the pen off him, putting it in my pocket. I settled in my seat and watched as the show began. The theatre was now full, and the curtains started to rise. Everyone fell silent as the first awards were given out. I sat and waited. Waited for something to happen.
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CHAPTER 2 Thief in the Dark
AVERY “I have more makeup than friends” -Beyonce
The golden bull was up for grabs, and I, Avery Prenton, was going to steal it. I totally deserved to win it, but nobody ever appreciates the makeup artists, right? I worked intensely behind the scenes in so many plays, operas, and musicals that happened here at the opera house. I had even done the makeup for the entire crew of Carmen. The actors and dancers were always so cruel to me though. They would shout at me if I even put one thing out of place on their precious little faces. I was never recognized. When I found out I had been nominated for the awards, I was ecstatic. Turns out it was just some git's idea of a joke. I was getting that award if I won it or not. I heard the announcements from below as I crouched on the roof. “And the winner is..." The lights went out. I smiled. He must have put them out but forgotten the signal. Oh well. This was a perfect opportunity to put my plan into action. I jumped from the roof of the Opera House, suspended from the thick black cords he had set up for me. He was a mountaineering guide after all, he knew about ropes. Lowering myself from the cords, I grabbed the solid gold bull. It glinted in my hand, but no-one else could see it in the dark. Avery, you absolute genius, I thought to myself, smirking. I shoved it in my handbag, the ruby eyes shining through the gaps in my fingers. I could take them, keep them for myself, but I thought better of it. He would be mad at me for defacing the bull. The rubies would match my red sleeveless jacket perfectly if I hung them from my earrings though. Crawling along the rafters— the darkness nearly choking me—I slammed face first into a bucket. Icy water splashed onto me, drenching me from head to toe. A sponge fell with a flop onto the floor, making a noise so loud I visibly cringed. If no one knew I was up here before, they definitely did now. I had done it. The golden bull was mine. I knew it would be, either by winning or by theft. I absolutely could not get caught. If I did, I would not only be 8
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punishing myself, but him as well. He would be so disappointed, and I did not want to let him down. I sat on precariously on the edge of the rafters, my feet dangling off the edge. I used to come up here all the time when I worked here. Making a split-second decision to evacuate the rafters before I was discovered, I slid down the rickety ladder. My feet barely grazed the floor before I was off, sprinting towards the bathrooms. I had to fix my makeup as soon as possible. Who knows what the stupid water bucket had done to my hair. I thrust the door open, narrowly avoiding slamming into a lady hurriedly rushing out. “Sorry,” I mumbled, dashing into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I looked in the mirror, gasping at the monster staring back at me. My elaborate updo was a mess, dripping down my shoulders in a blond waterfall of depression. I quickly whipped it back into a braid that snaked down my back. Pausing only to reapply my dark red lipstick, I walked out of the bathroom, trying to act casual. My job was complete. Almost. I had to meet him. I ran through the corridors backstage, holding my bag like piece of driftwood in the middle of a raging storm. I had to give him the Bulls Eye. I arrived at the meeting point, an abandoned prop room with an old chandelier hanging from the ceiling, left over from when the theatre did a performance of Phantom of the Opera. I stood in a shadowy corner, turning the bull over in my hands. He would come. I knew he would.
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CHAPTER 3 A Beige Long Coat
JET “Silence is golden. Unless you have kids. Then silence is suspicious.” -Doctor Seuss
I swear I didn’t mean to. I promise I was on my best behaviour. I was simply sneaking around the stage trying to find some tasty snacks. You know the choc top guy? Yeah, well I was looking for him, while digging into the bottom of my popcorn bag, when I knocked over old lady. I helped the lady up and picked up the array of objects that had fallen out of her bag. How do girls fit all that stuff in there? Anyway, I was so distracted by helping the lady, that I didn’t realise that I had walked backstage. The stage was beautiful, the golden lights shone from the roof. I was once again distracted and tripped over an old lightbox in the corner of the room. My popcorn flew into the air, and I fell, knocked my head on the wall and heard a mighty click. ... I lay on the floor, shocked, for what seemed like forever, when I had realised what I had done. I jumped up, ignoring the swinging pain in my head, and tried to pick up my popcorn. I had spent a good $10, ok? Oh no, I had just ruined the entire award ceremony! I had turned off the lights for the entire stage, the golden lights were now replaced with nothingness. Dark, empty, nothingness. I quickly turned toward the switch and turned the lights back on, hoping that no one - especially Uncle Rodger - would notice. He could not find out, he already didn’t like me coming over, and if he knew I ruined the performance, that would be the last straw. There he was with his beige long coat. Uncle Rodger started walking away, and I followed, popcorn falling out of my pocket, but at the time, I didn’t care. We passed dressing rooms full of extravagant ball gowns, tech rooms with guys on those cool headset things, and abandoned rooms with old set pieces and props. At times I would lose where Uncle Rodger went, so I would have to run to catch up, or guess which corridor he went 10
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down. We walked for what felt like hours, every time I thought we would stop or meet a dead end, we didn’t. We didn’t stop or even pause, we passed all these different rooms and kept going. “U-uncle Rodger?” I called trying not to let the growing nervousness inside me show. No reply. “Uncle Rodger?” I repeated, a little stronger this time. Still no reply, I was starting to get anxious, did he know that I turned the lights off? How could he? Little did I know that the uncle I was following, wasn’t my uncle at all. He turned the corner and entered a mysterious, and dark room. In the room was a young woman - probably in her twenties - wearing a red sleeveless jacket, and there next to her was the Bulls Eye trophy. The man I was following walked to the lady and then turned around. I gasped, this was a lot to take in, and I thought my year 2 math work was hard! The man I was following wasn’t my uncle and he and his friend had just stolen the trophy that I saw on stage when we walked in. “What should we do with him?” The girl asked, looking at me. “Why would I know?” The man replied. They stood in silence for a beat. “I know! Let’s keep him.” The girl said, with a sly grin spreading on her face. I had no idea what was happening, but I knew that it wasn’t going to end well.
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CHAPTER 4 Follow the Popcorn Crumbs
RODGER “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” -Sherlock Holmes
I stood on the empty stage, with the drowning murmurs of panicked people, loudening my thoughts. Staring at the lights, thinking of the time everything began. As any usual Detective would, I began to retrace my steps. Lights on…Lights off…Then the Trophy was gone. Something just didn’t add up. I had my eyes on Magnus the mountain guide, the whole time as well as anyone suspicious. “Whoever turned off the lights was good at leaving no traces behind. What do you think Jet?... Jet?” I spun around as fast as I could and could see no evidence of Jet. I called out his name multiple times, and yet…no reply. He knows better than to play tricks in this situation. “Oh no, no, no, no, where did he go? His mum is going to kill me!” I whispered in panic. My mind started to jumble, things started to go south, this was not good. No…wait, calm yourself, Roger, think like a detective, just…breathe. Ha! Is that the smell of chips? I thought to myself. No, Popcorn! “I guess breathing did really help!” I exclaimed. I recalled Jet eating popcorn before, and I followed the scent to a trail, a trail of popcorn crumbs. With each step I took, I closely inspected the crumbs, realizing by the footprints, that my nephew was not alone. The small remnants of a tall man around 6ft 1, wearing a brown coloured trench coat, were just a few steps in front of him. Jet must have been following him, thinking it was me. Then abruptly, the trail had ended, the destination unknown, and no nephew in sight. Suddenly, my eyes caught the vision of some light seeping through the cracks of a door. The door which would lead me to the room at the very end of the hallway. 12
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I took a slight peep and there lying on the table was the Golden Bull Trophy. The 24-karat gold figure, with ruby eyes, engulfed my being. A sudden rush of excitement filled my body. No wonder people were trying to steal this! The reason I had come here in the first place, the Golden Bull was just within my grasp. I had done it. Although I was proud of my achievement, I couldn’t find Jet anywhere. I straight away reached for the trophy; its cold body stiffened my hand as I gripped it with all my strength.
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CHAPTER 5 The Trade
Magnus “Life is nothing but a competition to be the criminal rather than the victim.” -Bertrand Russell.
For the first time in my mischievous history, Avery had been able to make a good decision instead of focussing on her mascara. Just before that imbecilic Detective Rodger had entered our hideout, I grabbed Jet by the scruff of his neck and pulled him outside. Rodger was now trapped backstage with what was probably a massive dilemma. I returned to the room holding his nephew in one hand and my gun in the other. “Hand over the trophy, or the kid gets it” I said, in an ominous tone. I was more desperate than convincing, but I managed to deceive the detective. Looking at Jet, Rodger’s eyes grew weary, and anxious. Jet tried to wriggle out of my grasp but I over-powered him. “Stop squirming” I said to the boy. “Or it might be that last thing you do”. He immediately obliged and became as still as a stone statue frozen in liquid nitrogen. “How did you get a hold of Jet?” Rodger asked. Truth be told we didn’t even plan on making a trade for the trophy, my stubborn co-worker had been persistent in leaving the site immediately. But when Rodger’s nephew followed me here, the opportunity was too good to pass up. He had appeared out of nowhere in the doorway with a look of horror on his face. “He followed me here; I didn’t even have to do a thing,”. “I didn’t mean to, his stupid old coat looks exactly like yours, Uncle Rodger” Jet said angrily. 14
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“Just hand over my nephew, and I’ll give you the trophy.” “Deal”, I responded reluctantly. All I needed was that trophy to complete tonight’s mission. I didn’t have a care in the world about Jet. Not even a hint of remorse was behind this caring face. We prepared to make the trade. Rodger put down the trophy and I noticed a hint of reluctance in his face. Was that trophy more important than his nephew to him? This slowed my thought process down so that I let go of Jet cautiously. That’s when everything went wrong. Avery walked through the corridor, no matter how stunning she was, she wasn’t exactly the brightest. Avery wasn’t supposed to be seen with me, no one was supposed to know we were working together. My elaborate plan melts away from my grasp, I can’t believe Avery ruined this for me! Hurriedly, I grabbed the kid and pulled him back in one swift motion. The detective grabbed the Bulls Eye Trophy from the floor before Avery could snatch it from his feet. Avery Prenton was the most beautiful partner in crime I had ever worked with, but she had just ruined this trade. Detective Rodger appeared to be putting the pieces of the puzzle together piece by piece. “You two are working together?” He said in complete shock. It was true. Avery and I had been working together for ages and pulled off many successful heists. We had been standing there for over a minute now without saying anything. It was a mystery as to what was going on in everybody’s minds. It was a classic standoff between a Detective and a Mountain Guide gone rouge. “It was me that you saw as you entered the Opera House,” I said. “I set up the rope contraption for Avery with my famous mountain guide ability to tie knots.” “How is it that a Mountain Guide and a Makeup artist have ended up backstage with my nephew and a missing trophy?” Rodger asked. I knew he was trying to stall for time, so I attempted to cut him off right there and then. But Miss Loud-Mouth next to me decided to give him the longwinded explanation. “Well, you see, we ha- “Avery started. 15
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“AVERY!!!” I yelled, “Not now honey”. My scream rattled the chandelier above us and illuminated Rodger’s face. I noticed his lips twitch to form a very miniscule smile. Avery flinched and stood next me. Her beauty distracted me for a tiny second and in that moment, “GET DOWN JET!!” Rodger yelled. Jet fell through my arms and Rodger pulled out his gun and shot at the chain suspending the chandelier. It came crashing down onto Avery and I, and the last thing I saw was a hurricane of glass. “Bulls eye” laughed Rodger.
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CHAPTER 6 Captured
AVERY “I have more makeup than friends” -Beyonce
My head was spinning. Dots swam in my vision and my ears rang. I opened my mouth to verbalise the one thought in my incoherent mind. Where was I? I felt a shiver run down my spine as I imagined all the dire possibilities. I thought of words, but none escaped from my mouth. I tried once again, to no avail. Another effort brought more success. “W-w-where am I?” My voice was small and frail, and I hated how vulnerable I sounded. Suddenly my vision cleared. I was greeted with the sight of an obnoxious smile pasted on the face of a certain mischievous imp. My bad mood immediately plummeted. "Hah. You sound sooooooo stupid!" Jet's gleeful grin made me want to punch him. Frequently, his gremlin personality got on my nerves. But right now? I did not want to see him even if he had a new type of makeup that enhanced my cheekbones. "Huh? Where am I?!" A familiar voice came from my right. When I turned my head, I was met with the black, blue, and purple face of Magnus. Gosh! If that's what he looked like, I hated to think what had happened to my mascara. I needed a mirror and makeup kit, like, immediately. I was distracted from my beauty disaster by Magnus. "How did we end up in a police car?" That was a good question, one I had not thought of. I looked around, taking in the sleek leather seats. The dashboard was covered in buttons and radios, switches, and sticky notes covered in leads and ideas. There were padlocks on the doors, preventing escape, and I was 99% sure the windows were bulletproof. "How do you think, idiot?" At least Jet wasn’t only rude to me. I gave Magnus a smirk as I pondered Jet's response. The last thing I remembered was a 17
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chandelier coming crashing down on top of Magnus and I. Crushed by the weight of the chandelier, we were knocked out. That explained the black and blue bruises on Magnus' face. Detective Rodger joined our conversation with a not-so-helpful explanation. "While you guys were taking a nap, I escorted you to the police car outside. You will be tried in court for kidnapping a minor, resisting arrest, and burglary. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court." I felt the helplessness sink in. Now that I thought about it, my revenge was too petty a reason to end up in jail. But as the regrets started to seep in... I stopped at a new resolution. None of this mess was my fault. Instead, it was Magnus' fault. If he had just worn a different coat, everything would have been different. My anger was now directed towards Magnus. I swivelled to my right, facing Magnus’ mess of a face. "This is your fault!" I was almost yelling; I could see the shock on his face. But he quickly recovered with his own retort. "My fault?!" Magnus spat with an incredulous expression. "You want some reasons why this is your fault, not mine? Your narcissism and vanity has been an obstacle from the start. And it was YOUR idea to kidnap the kid." "Excuse me! I'm still here. I do not appreciate being called a kid." Jet's interjection gave me a minute to consider Magnus' unreasonable rudeness. But then I stopped. "What's narc-c-c-cii-cis--ph?" Magnus rolled his eyes at my inability to pronounce his big words. "It means you’re self-absorbed and don't consider anyone else." "RUDE! If you’d just worn a different coat! We wouldn't be here." “Your make-up even isn’t that good anyway. You look like a dressed-up pig.” A retort was ready in my mouth when Jet cut in. "Ok, smoochie faces. Enough arguing or I'll blindfold and gag you both." Jet put his hands in a gun shape, bandit style. Magnus rolled his eyes, and I stuck my tongue out at Jet. No 8-year-old was allowed to be rude to me.
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"Be quiet everyone. Or I'll gag and blindfold ALL of you." Detective Rodger cut in, putting an end to our argument. The rest of the trip was pretty much uneventful except for Jet and I exchanging the occasional stink eye. But only the occasional one. My mind was preoccupied with my concealer and running mascara. I probably looked like a goth with my hideous smudged eyeliner. Trees flashed by as we sped along the highway. A Victorian-era police station appeared as we drove toward our new home. A comfy jail cell. Home, sweet home for the foreseeable future. Great.
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CHAPTER 7 An Unexpected Turn
RODGER “When You have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” -Sherlock Holmes
I stood in apprehension in the wings as I waited for the announcer. "The winner of tonight’s Bulls Eye award has been modified. The original winner has our most sincere condolences, but we have retaken nominations considering tonight’s events. The votes have been counted and everyone is in favour of the change of recipient. The winner of this year's Bulls Eye award is... Detective Rodger!" The audience exploded with applause. Not polite applause but enthusiastic whoops and wolf-whistles. I spotted Jet up the back, jumping up and down. I smiled and stepped out onto the stage. A microphone was thrust in my direction, and I took it. Mic in hand, I stepped up to the podium. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. It is such an honour to be standing here tonight. I wouldn’t even be here tonight, if not for an anonymous tip-off. Tonight, I tried my best to fight for justice, and justice was served. But it wouldn't have been so if it wasn't for a very special young man... Jet! Ladies and gentlemen, every detective needs a Watson to their Sherlock Holmes. An accidental Watson or an active one. For if Jet had not mistaken Magnus Graham for me, he never would have unwittingly led me to the villains that nearly thwarted us." I stopped and took a big breath. "So, I would like to acknowledge Jet's help and hindrance before I accept my award tonight. I would also like to thank all of those that nominated for this award tonight. I thank you all. I know winning the Bulls Eye is a big deal. The ultimate award for being the ultimate citizen. So thank you for all your support" I stepped away from the podium, toward where an attendant was standing holding the Bulls Eye trophy. The attendant handed me the trophy. Embracing its weight, I hoisted it above my head, amid cheers from the crowd. I walked 20
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off the stage and over to Jet, “What did you think?” I asked, honestly curious to what his answer would be. “Bulls Eye.” He stated, proudly. I smiled, picked him up and we walked home, laughing the entire time.
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In a thrilling tale of cunning and camaraderie, Avery and Magnus are two masterful thieves with a reputation that echoes through their audacious plan to steal the legendary Bulls Eye Trophy. However, fate has its own plans as a different kind of dynamic duo enters the scene. Rodger, a detective with an uncanny knack for reading between the lines, joins forces with accidentprone nephew. Will his nephew, who has a pea for a brain, stop the heist of the century, or will he let them get away? 22