The evil imp who had caused the disruption was currently recovering from the long drive from Chennai to Bangalore.

The youngest of the AKA detectives, at nine years old, was pretty much their secret weapon. Book-smart, tiny, and of a fierce nature that often got her into trouble, Asha had battled her way into the group – as she often had to do – to be taken seriously for anything.

Prone to travel sickness, Asha usually got to sit in the front seat of the car next to her father. But this time, even that switch didn’t help her avoid the queasiness.

Sulky and tired, Asha sat in their balcony, sipping juice with crushed ginger and mint, which her mother had made to settle her stomach. Her nap hadn’t helped. And everyone at home was huffy at her, just because she told the truth! And I was probably the reason we left a day early, too, Asha thought guiltily.

Asha didn’t feel like going down to play or finding out what the boys were doing in the clubhouse. She had already laid out her books and uniform for school (even before she left for Chennai), so there was nothing left to prepare for the next day.

Asha watched as a new car drove through the driveway below. A Maruti Grand Vitara, she mentally catalogued, remembering that it had been the Car of the Year in 2023. She already knew which apartment it was heading to even before it made the turn toward the owner’s complex. Only one house had bought a new car this year.

When Asha was younger, she had explored every basement parking lot in their apartment block and memorised all the cars against the owner’s flat numbers. She didn’t know the people in every house, but she certainly knew what they drove. It had taken her parents a year to realise she wasn’t just making it up, and another year for her to realise this was not something everyone could do.

“I left it right here. Next to my phone…like I always do!”

A man’s loud voice broke through her musings. Asha pressed her face against their balcony’s grill but couldn’t make out which apartment the shouting was coming from.

“Who came in here? Ask her to come back!” Downstairs, she could see drivers looking up from their cars and groups of gossiping nannies staring. A ball rolled unchecked as a game of dodgeball came to a standstill, the circle of kids gaping upwards in the same direction.

“She’s a thief! She knew how valuable it was! She’s a bloody thief!”

Unable to bear it any longer, Asha grabbed her sweater and chappals and ran past her father, who was reading in their living room.

“Asha? Where are you…” he began.

“Downstairs, back soon!” she responded, slamming the door behind her.

By the time Asha reached the ground floor, a crowd had already gathered to watch the uncle, who lived in 101B, vent and fume. Asha skidded to a halt and turned, recognising him as both the parent of a ninth-standard boy in their school and the owner of a silver Maruti SX4.

“I’ll call the police! Check her bags!”

Dressed in only a white banian and blue checked lungi, the rather hairy uncle in question was waving his hands in a fury like some sort of mad orchestra conductor. He was standing on his first-floor balcony, shouting in the direction of a house help who had already begun screaming back.

“Koopidiga, police. I haven’t taken anything. Here!”

She threw her bag down dramatically, while one of the security guards who had come running at the noise, bent and quickly checked its contents.

“Amma! I’m not coming to work tomorrow. Find somebody else!”

Asha moved through the crowd to observe the entire scene.

“She stole my Rolex watch! I left it right here. Only she came inside.”

Standing on the balcony alongside the screaming uncle was Geetha Aunty, looking extremely hassled as she unsuccessfully tried to calm her husband and get the house help to come back upstairs.

“Who still wears a watch? It’s not even a smartwatch! I have a smartphone!” she continued with her tirade.

Hastily, Asha looked through the crowd for Karthik and her brother Aarav. This could be their new case! And those dumb boys were missing everything!

“She must have hidden it elsewhere. Where’s the manager? Check the CCTV cameras!”

Asha edged away from the crowd and hastened towards the guard’s entry station. While everyone was busy watching the commotion, she grabbed a pen off their table, tore a sheet of paper from the back of their entry book, and ran towards the lifts.

As the man and the helper continued to scream at each other, Asha scribbled down the details of what she knew so far. Stopping in front of the lift, Asha looked up the name of the owner of 101B.

Mr TS Muralikrishnan. The house help, whom Asha already knew, was Lakshmi-akka.

And a Rolex watch had been stolen!

Excerpted with permission from The Mystery of the Disappearing Drone, Vidya Varadarajan, Scholastic India.