The Seventh Dwarf (Artemis Fowl 1.5)

Artemis, Butler and Mulch had ringside seats for the Circus Maximus. This was one of a new breed of circus where the acts lived up to the advertising, and there were no animals involved. The clowns were genuinely funny, the acrobats were little short of miraculous and the dwarfs were little and short.

Sergei the Significant and four of his five teammates were lined up at the centre of the ring, doing a spot of pre-show posturing to the capacity crowd. Each dwarf was below a metre in height and wore a tight-fitting crimson leotard with lightning-flash logo. Their faces were concealed by matching masks.

Mulch was wrapped in an oversized raincoat. He wore a peaked hat pulled over his brow, and his face was slathered with a pungent homemade sun block. Dwarfs are extremely photosensitive with a burn-time of mere minutes, even in overcast conditions.

Mulch poured an entire jumbo carton of popcorn down his gullet.

'Yep,' he mumbled, spitting out kernels. 'These boys are actual dwarfs, no doubt about it.'

Artemis smiled tightly, glad to have his suspicions confirmed. 'I discovered them quite by accident. They use the same website you do.'

'My computer search revealed two patterns, and it was easy to match the circus's movements to a series of crimes. I am surprised that Interpol and the FBI aren't already

on to Sergei and his gang. When the Fei Fei Tiara's tour schedule was announced, and it coincided with the circus tour, I knew it was no chance coincidence. I was, of course, correct. The dwarfs stole the tiara, then smuggled it back to Ireland using the circus as cover. Actually it will be far easier to steal the tiara from these dwarfs, than it would have been from the Classical.'

'And why is that?' asked Mulch.

'Because they are not expecting it,' explained Artemis.

Sergei the Significant and his troupe prepared for their first trick. It was as simple as it was impressive. A small unadorned wooden box was lowered by crane into the centre of the ring. Sergei, with much bowing and flexing of tiny muscles, made his way towards the box. He lifted the lid and climbed in. The cynical audience waited for some curtain or screen shenanigans that would allow the little man to escape, but nothing happened. The box sat there. Immobile. With every eye in the tent drilling into its surface. Nobody went within twenty feet of it.

A full minute passed before a second dwarf entered the ring. He set an old fashioned Tbar detonator on the ground, and following a five-second drum roll, pushed the plunger. The box exploded in a dramatic cloud of soot and balsa wood. Either Sergei was dead, or he was gone.

'Hmmph,' grunted Mulch, amidst the thunderous applause. 'Not much of a trick.'

'Not when you know how it's done,' agreed Artemis.

'He gets in the box, he tunnels out to the dressing room, and presumably he shows up again later.'

'Correct. They set down another box at the end of the performance, and lo-and-behold, Sergei reappears. It's a miracle.'

'Some miracle. All the talents we have, and that's the best those bums could come up with.'

Artemis rose, Butler instantly stood behind him, to block any possible attack from the rear. 'Come, Mister Diggums, we need to plan for tonight.'

Mulch swallowed the last of the popcorn.

'Tonight? What's tonight?'

'Why the late-evening performance,' replied Artemis with a grin. 'And you, my friend, are the star performer.'

Fowl Manor. North County Dublin. Ireland.

It was a two-hour drive back to Fowl Manor from Wexford. Artemis's mother was waiting for them at the front doors.

'And how was the circus, Arty?' she said, smiling for her boy, in spite of the pain in her eyes. That pain was never far away, not even since the fairy, Holly Short, cured her of her depression following the disappearance of her husband, Artemis's father.

'It was fine, Mother. Wonderful, in fact. I asked Mister Diggums here for dinner, he is one of the performers and a fascinating fellow. I hope you don't mind.'

'Of course not. Mister Diggums, make the house your own.'

'It wouldn't be the first time,' muttered Butler under his breath. He escorted Mulch through to the kitchen while Artemis lingered to talk with his mother.

'How are you, Arty, really?'

Artemis did not know how to respond. What was he to say? I have determined to follow in my father's criminal footsteps, because that is what I do best. Because that is the only way to raise enough money to pay the numerous private detective agencies and Internet search companies that I have employed to find him. But the crimes don't make me happy. Victory is never as sweet as I think it will be.

'I am fine, Mother, really,' he said eventually, without conviction.

Angeline hugged him close. Artemis could smell her perfume and feel her warmth.

'You're a good boy,' she sighed. 'A good son.'

The elegant lady straightened. 'Now, why don't you go and talk to your new friend. You must have a lot to discuss.'

'Yes, Mother,' said Artemis, his resolve overcoming the sadness in his heart. 'We have a lot to discuss before tonight's show.'

The Circus Maximus.

Mulch Diggums had cleared himself a hole just below the dwarfs' tent and was waiting to spring into action. They had returned to Wexford for the late-night performance. Early enough for him to dig his way under the tent from an adjacent field. Artemis was inside the main tent right now keeping a close eye on Sergei the Significant and his team. Butler was hanging back by the rendezvous point, waiting for Mulch's return.

Artemis's scheme had seemed plausible back in Fowl Manor. It had even seemed likely that they could get away with it. But now, with the circus vibrations beating down on his head, Mulch could see a slight problem. The problem being that he was putting his neck on the line, while Mud Boy was sitting in a comfy ringside seat eating candy floss.

Artemis had explained his scheme in Fowl Manor's drawing room.

'I have been keeping close tabs on Sergei and his troupe ever since I discovered their little outfit. They are a canny group. Perhaps it would be easier to steal the gem from whoever they sell the stone on to, but soon the school holidays will be over, and I will be forced to suspend my operations, so I need the blue diamond now.'

'For your laser thing?'

Artemis coughed into his hand. 'Laser. Yes, that's correct.'

'And it has to be this diamond?'

'Absolutely. The Fei Fei blue diamond is unique. Its precise hue is one of a kind.'

'And that's important, is it?'

'Vital, for light diffraction. It's technical. You wouldn't understand it.'

'Hmm,' droned Mulch, suspecting that something was being held back. 'So how do you propose we get this vital blue diamond?'

Artemis pulled down a projector screen. There was a diagram of the Circus Maximus taped to the surface.

'Here is the circus ring,' he said, pointing with a telescopic pointer.

'What? That round thing, with the word ring in the middle? You don't say.'

Artemis closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He was unaccustomed to interruptions. Butler tapped Mulch on the shoulder.

'Listen, little man,' he advised in his most serious voice. 'Or I might remember that I owe you a ignominious beating, like the one you gave me.'