The Case of the Missing Moonstone (The Wollstonecraft Detective Agency Series #1)

by Jordan Stratford Narrated by Nicola Barber

Overview

Eleven-year-old math prodigy Ada Lovelace, daughter of the famous and infamous poet Lord Byron, is a genius. Isolated, awkward and socially inept-but a genius. Mary Godwin, age 14, daughter of radical philosopher William Godwin and feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft, is a romantic. It has been arranged for Mary and Ada to be tutored by the young man who calls himself Percy B. Snagsby, a nervous fellow who may or may not be a spy. Every day, Mary rides to the Byron estate in a carriage accompanied by Charles, a stowaway boy she is supposed to pretend isn't really there and who all the while keeps his nose in a book.

As the two girls become fast friends, their irrepressible curiosity leads to the formation of the secretive Wollstonecraft Detective Agency. Their first case involves a stolen pendant, a false confession, and an array of fishy suspects-but these are no match for the deductive powers and bold hearts of Ada and Mary.

Playful historical references and witticisms abound in this comic romp featuring Newgate Prison, a renegade hot-air balloon ride across the rooftops of London, and word-play worthy of the literary characters who inhabit the story. The Case of the Missing Moonstone is funny and fanciful middle-grade fiction that is guaranteed to delight readers of all ages.

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

This is a winner.” —School Library Journal
 
“Smart and witty. The detectives in training use quick thinking, book smarts, and social know-how to find a stolen gemstone. Comical narration and dialogue will charm readers thoroughly.” —Publishers Weekly
 
“An enjoyable plot, resourceful heroines and fun writing.” —Wall Street Journal
 
“Equal parts laughs and adventure, this lively mystery will keep you guessing till the end!” –Discovery Girls
 
“Smart and clever girls who think they know better than anyone else (and probably do) will enjoy this refreshing mystery and the start to what’s sure to be an intriguing series.” – KidsReads
 
“A tale of two young girls facing down wicked plots and pernicious deeds.”—The Center for Fiction
 
“A must-read for fans of history, mystery, and witty young women, The Case of the Missing Moonstone is a charming first installment of what is sure to be a spectacular series.” –Middle Shelf Magazine
 
“Promises to be a classic for young modern sleuths.”—Portland Book Review

School Library Journal - Audio

03/01/2015
Gr 5–8—In 1826 London, two upper-class girls—Ada, a "perfectly ordinary 11-year-old genius" who's oblivious to social protocol and 14-year-old Mary, who is unusually perceptive and loves adventure—initially come together for joint tutoring. However, these resourceful misses soon decide to combine their remarkable talents and establish the Wollstonecraft Detective Agency. Mary and Ada take on a case to recover a valuable antique Turkish pendant, resulting in escapades that challenge their ingenuity and expand their abilities. The preface notes that Ada and Mary are based on the historical figures Augusta Ada Byron, commonly known as Ada Lovelace and believed to be the first computer programmer, and Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin, who's better known as Frankenstein author Mary Shelley. Although historical license is used to connect the protagonists, historical facts, places, and famous personages from the period are woven throughout this delightfully quirky and engaging novel and detailed in the end notes. Nicola Barber's capable performance provides the girls and an intriguing supporting cast with distinctive personalities and voices. This work could be used to complement an array of lessons from period and author studies to math and logic. VERDICT This first installment in what is sure to become a popular series is highly recommended.—Rebecca James, Nashville, TN

MARCH 2015 - AudioFile

Ada Lovelace, the world’s first computer programmer, and Mary Godwin, creator of the science-fiction genre, are cleverly brought together in a series that weaves history, science, and mystery in a way that is sure to appeal to Lemony Snicket fans. Nicola Barber tells the story with a flair and liveliness that add realism to this little time-travel jaunt. Her British pronunciations of some words may sound odd to the American ear, but she ably breathes life into this interesting cast of characters, especially Ada; Mary; the tutor, Peebs (Percy Bysshe Shelley); and an unwitting travel mate, a young Charles Dickens. They use curiosity, book smarts, and quick thinking to expose a false confession and recover a stolen gemstone. A great start to a promising new series. N.E.M. © AudioFile 2015, Portland, Maine

Product Details

BN ID:	2940170041329
Publisher:	HighBridge Company
Publication date:	01/06/2015
Series:	Wollstonecraft Detective Agency Series , #1
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	8 - 12 Years

Read an Excerpt

“Force . . . equals . . . mass . . . times . . . acceleration,” muttered Ada as she wrote in her notebook. Ada pondered that if you drop a hammer on your foot, it hurts more than dropping, say, a sock on your foot. The acceleration, or speeding up, is the same, but the mass, the solid oomph of a thing, is different. Oomph times zoom equals kaboom!

Ada and her pondering were cocooned in a square wicker box that resembled a giant picnic basket, just tall enough for her to stand up in and long enough for her to lie down in. Light entered through round, brass-­ringed windows and lit up stacks of books, rolls of paper, the odd screwdriver, and a bundle of pencils. The basket hung from thick ropes beneath a vast patchwork balloon that often swayed savagely in the wind, and the whole contraption was tethered with more ropes to the roof of Ada’s Marylebone house in the heart of London.

The balloon was one of Ada’s best inventions. It was filled with hot air from the house’s many chimneys, which Ada funneled to it via numerous pipes bolted together. Taken as a whole—pipes, ropes, basket, and balloon—it gave the impression that the stately house was wearing a sort of ridiculous hat.

Ada lay stretched out on the gondola’s floor in her favorite cherry velvet dress, which stopped a full inch above her ankles and showed wear and the odd black grease stain. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and pulled back into a bun, with little wisps here and there trying to make a run for it.

What if, Ada wondered in her wicker box, you could accelerate a sock? What if the sock were moving so fast that it could have the same force as a hammer? Would it hurt the same? How fast would the sock have to go, and how could you make a sock go that fast?

Ada thought like this all the time. And to capture her thoughts, she made drawings—little sketches in notebooks or on scraps of paper or on table linens or, once (at a very dull picnic and much to the displeasure of her recently former governess, Miss Coverlet) on Ada’s new dress. The drawing of the moment was a sock cannon of Ada’s invention.

The sock cannon was taking shape on paper and in between Ada’s ears. But as busy as her ears were containing the sock-­cannon plans, she could make out the sound of a carriage approaching the Marylebone house.

Grabbing a brass telescope that had been rolling about on the floor with the swaying of the basket, she stood and flipped open the hatch. She climbed up the three-­step rope ladder to the balloon’s short deck, from which she could see as far as Oxford Street. She could see down Wimpole and Welbeck, Wesley and Westmoreland, down Weymouth and Cavendish and Queen Anne and even the little lanes off Baker Street. Only she and the crows knew her neighborhood in this way, from above.

Her stomach tightened. Walking across busy Marylebone Road, carpetbags in hand, went Miss Coverlet for the last time, leaving Ada alone for good.

Ada had to admit that “alone” was not entirely accurate. The house in London was staffed by two women whose names she could never quite remember: Misses Cabbage and Cummerbund, or possibly Arugula and Aubergine—she honestly had no idea. When food arrived—with the exception of the bread and butter she’d help herself to in the upstairs kitchen—it was at the hands of Miss Coverlet, or Ada’s very tall and entirely silent butler, Mr. Franklin. And then the dishes went away, seemingly by themselves, to a place where she supposed something or other must happen to them.

But as far as Ada was concerned, without Miss Coverlet, whom Ada had known all her life, who had comforted her scrapes and answered her questions and fetched her favorite books and made sure her stockings weren’t scratchy—something Ada hated rather desperately—yes, Ada would feel utterly alone.

At eleven, Ada was deemed too old for a governess, and was now to have a tutor instead. A tutor! Ada knew it was impossible for any living person to educate her. For that, she had her books. Books for learning, books for distraction, books for company, books for making sense of things. Ada’s books were full of facts and figures, diagrams and calculations. Books that were not to be argued with. Books that stayed put when you needed them to and didn’t run off to get married, as Miss Coverlet was off to do, which seemed to Ada like the stupidest idea ever.

In most matters, Ada was a genius. Once the facts and figures and charts and calculations from her books wandered into her head, they never left it. Even when she was a baby, Ada had loved number games and puzzles. She fixed things that were broken, and then began fixing things that weren’t broken, or broke things so they could be fixed in ways no one else understood or found particularly convenient. But the one puzzle she couldn’t solve was people. To Ada, they all seemed to be broken in ways she couldn’t make sense of, and couldn’t fix.

Right now there was the puzzle of her heart, which was breaking as Miss Coverlet stepped aboard the carriage.

“I’m going to my balloon,” Ada had said when informed of Miss Coverlet’s departure that morning. She supposed that Miss Coverlet might have mentioned getting married before, but Ada hadn’t realized that meant she’d be leaving and that leaving meant alone. And she certainly hadn’t known Miss Coverlet would be leaving today.

Ada knew that if she was to be alone, then the drawing room, with its grand wallpaper and curlicued gilt frames, its lush Indian carpet and scattering of delicate china, was not where “alone” was going to happen.

Miss Coverlet had watched Ada turn and leave, stomping just a little bit for show. Miss Coverlet had seen some very expert stomping from Ada over the years, and this stomping seemed halfhearted.

Indeed, as Ada now watched Miss Coverlet leave in the carriage, she felt that she had only half a heart left.

Ada had barely returned to her sock-­cannon plans when she heard the great black lion’s-­head knocker strike the front door.

Whoever it was had best go away. She wanted to be left alone—alone as Miss Coverlet had left her, here in her safe wicker fort beneath her balloon, tethered with strong nautical rope to the topmost peak of her house. While she knew she should slide down the rope to the widow’s walk and swing into the attic window as she’d done a hundred times before, she felt safest here, basket swaying, with her inventions and her books and her drawings. No, she would not come down.

Not ever.

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