The detective looked up and down the main corridor of the train with his steely gaze. He didn’t know who or how, but he did know that a saboteur was aboard.
Was it the skinny fella with the big moustache and paint on his shoe? Could it be the bald guy with the briefcase and the sweaty brow?
Regardless, he would save this train. A hand grabbed his shoulder. His arch nemesis, The Knuckle, had arrived. Or had he?
Eight-year-old Detective Dougie would have to solve this caper tomorrow, because his mother’s hand was pulling him into the sleeping car.