by Ron Roy
DINK, JOSH, AND RUTH ROSE AREN’T THE ONLY KID DETECTIVES!
Can you find the hidden message inside this book?
There are 26 illustrations in this book, not counting the one on the title page, the map at the beginning, and the picture of art supplies that repeats at the start of many of the chapters. In each of the 26 illustrations, there’s a hidden letter. If you can find all the letters, you will spell out a secret message!
If you’re stumped, the answer is on the bottom of this page.
I dedicate this book to teachers, parents, and grandparents who put books into the hands of children.
—R.R.
To Bryce DePari, a champion A to Z reader!
—J.S.G.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2021 by Ron Roy
Cover art copyright © 2021 by Stephen Gilpin
Interior illustrations copyright © 2021 by John Steven Gurney
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Random House and the colophon and A to Z Mysteries are registered trademarks and A Stepping Stone Book and the colophon and the A to Z Mysteries colophon are trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Visit us on the Web!
rhcbooks.com
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Roy, Ron, author. | Gurney, John Steven, illustrator.
Title: Crime in the crypt / by Ron Roy; illustrated by John Steven Gurney.
Description: New York: Random House Children’s Books, [2021] |
Series: A to Z mysteries. Super edition; #13 | “A Stepping Stone book.” |
Summary: “When Ruth Rose’s grandmother is accused of stealing, it’s up to Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose to clear her name.” —Provided by publisher.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020032680 (print) | LCCN 2020032681 (ebook) | ISBN 978-0-593-30181-4 (trade paperback) | ISBN 978-0-593-30182-1 (library binding) | ISBN 978-0-593-30183-8 (ebook)
Subjects: CYAC: Robbers and outlaws—Fiction. | Cemeteries—Fiction. | Friendship—Fiction. | Brooklyn (New York, N.Y.)—Fiction. | Mystery and detective stories.
Classification: LCC PZ7.R8139 Cri 2021 (print) | LCC PZ7.R8139 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23
Ebook ISBN 9780593301838
This book has been officially leveled by using the F&P Text Level Gradient™ Leveling System.
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
ep_prh_5.7.0_c0_r0
Contents
Cover
Dedication
Copyright
Title Page
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Get the Facts from A to Z!
About the Author
“OH NO!” Josh moaned. He was asleep, sitting next to Dink on a train. Ruth Rose sat across from them, with her red backpack on the seat next to her. Because she always dressed in one color, she also had a red hoodie, jeans, and headband. A red scarf was draped around her neck.
Josh smacked his lips as if he were tasting something delicious. His eyelids fluttered. He tugged a thread of yarn from the sleeve of his sweater. Ruth Rose reached across and pulled the yarn from Josh’s fingers, waking him up.
“What’s going on?” Josh croaked.
“You were moaning,” Dink told his friend.
“And ruining your sweater,” Ruth Rose added.
Josh yawned. “I was having a weird dream,” he said.
“Tell us,” Dink said. “We love your dreams.”
Josh rubbed his eyes, then told Dink and Ruth Rose he dreamed he was in a spaceship made of ice cream. “I was starving, so I nibbled on it,” he said. “I kept eating until there was no spaceship left. I began to fall to Earth!”
Dink grinned. “Wait. You ate a spaceship?” he asked.
“It was made of pistachio ice cream!” Josh said.
The kids were riding the train from Hartford, Connecticut, to New York City. It was early October, and they were going to meet Ruth Rose’s grandmother Gram Hathaway. Gram was in New York visiting her best friend, Maria Hoffman.
A conductor in a blue uniform walked up to their seats. “This will be the last stop. Everyone gets off at Grand Central,” he said. “Is someone meeting you kids?”
“My grandmother is,” Ruth Rose said. She showed the man a letter. “She says to get off the train, walk up a ramp, and she’ll be waiting.”
The man smiled. “That’ll do it,” he said. “The ramp will be on your left when you get off. Is this your first time in the city?”
“No,” Dink said. “My uncle lives here, and we visited him last year.”
The train started to slow. “Have fun in the Big Apple,” the man said, and walked to the end of their train car.
“Why do they call New York City the Big Apple?” Josh asked. “Why not the Big Chocolate Chip Cookie?”
Dink grinned. “Or the Big Broccoli?” he said.
The train went into a tunnel. It slowed some more, then stopped.
A voice announced, “GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL…LAST STOP….EVERYONE MUST LEAVE THE TRAIN….WATCH YOUR STEP!”
Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose grabbed their jackets and backpacks and headed for the door, which had swished open. A stream of people left the train. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. Some of the people dragged suitcases on wheels. Most were talking or texting on cell phones.
The kids found the ramp and followed the other passengers. They passed recycling bins, where people dropped newspapers, bottles, and cans. A teenage girl stood on a box, playing a violin. A few people tossed coins and bills into her violin case, which was open near her feet.
“Guys, did you see that?” Josh asked. “If I learn to play the violin, I can come here and make tons of money!”
Dink laughed. “They’ll probably arrest you for noise pollution,” he said.
“You’re a riot, Wyatt,” Josh said.
At the top of the ramp, the kids moved to one side so the rest of the people could keep walking. There were signs everywhere, pointing to taxis, subway stations, and exits.
“Now we wait,” Ruth Rose said, turning her head to look for her grandmother.
“How long?” Josh asked. “I’m starving!”
Dink poked him. “You just ate an ice cream spaceship!”
Josh poked him back. “Doesn’t count,” he said. “I was dreaming. In real life, I’m still hungry!”
Just then, a voice called, “RUTH ROSE, OVER HERE!” Gram Hathaway was standing on a bench, waving her hands in the air. The kids zigzagged through the crowd and made their
way to the bench. Gram Hathaway hugged each of them.
“Right on time!” Gram said, stepping off the bench. “And you were smart to dress warm. October in New York can get chilly.” She was wearing a baseball cap and a fleece vest over a flannel shirt and jeans.
Like Ruth Rose, Dink wore a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. Josh had on a baggy sweater and cargo pants.
“Follow me!” Gram said, pointing toward an exit. “Brooklyn is that way.”
“Are we walking there?” Josh asked.
“No, it’s too far,” Gram said. “We’ll get a taxi.” She ushered them out to the street and stepped to the curb, waving for a cab.
A yellow cab pulled up and stopped. Gram opened the rear door, and the kids climbed in with their backpacks. Gram sat next to the driver. He wore a Yankees cap over dreadlocks.
“Can you take us to Park Slope, please?” Gram asked.
“No problem,” the man said, easing his cab into the stream of traffic.
“What’s Park Slope?” Dink asked.
“It’s the neighborhood in Brooklyn where Maria lives,” Gram said.
“Is she retired like you?” Ruth Rose asked.
“No, she’s a docent,” her gram said.
“What’s a docent?” Josh asked.
“A docent is a guide who takes people through a museum,” Gram Hathaway said. “Maria’s specialty is silver and gold. She loves looking at all the priceless old things.”
“I can’t wait to meet her,” Ruth Rose said.
“You’ll love Maria,” Gram said. “She likes to bake cookies.”
“I like her already!” Josh said.
“But first we’re going to Kip’s Place,” Gram said.
“Who’s Kip, Gram?” Ruth Rose asked.
“He’s a friend of Maria’s, and he runs a very cool studio where artists can paint or sculpt or make stained-glass things,” Gram explained. “Yesterday I made a clay vase on Kip’s pottery wheel. He showed me a picture of an old vase, and I copied it. I must say, it turned out very nicely.”
“Awesome, Gram,” Ruth Rose said.
“I put it in Kip’s kiln to dry overnight, so today it should be ready to decorate,” Gram told them.
Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose watched out the windows as their driver took them through heavy traffic. They saw thousands of cars and millions of people. The buildings were so tall that the kids couldn’t see the sky.
Dink closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he moaned, “Oh no!”
“What’s wrong?” Josh asked him.
“I’m under the ocean in a submarine,” Dink whispered. “It’s made of chocolate cake. I’m eating every bit….”
Josh poked him. “You’re cute, Newt,” he said.
Soon the buildings they passed were shorter, and they could see the sky above them. There were fewer people on the sidewalks and less traffic on the streets.
“Are we in Brooklyn?” Dink asked the driver.
“Yes, sir,” the man said. “Park Slope coming up! Got an address for me?”
“Take us to the corner of Twenty-Fifth Street and Fifth Avenue, please,” Gram told him. A few minutes later, the driver pulled up to a row of storefronts. kip’s place was painted on a large window between a dry cleaner’s and a sandwich shop called Wrap It Up.
“We’re here!” Gram said, and they all got out of the taxi.
While Gram paid the driver, the kids walked to Kip’s Place and peered through the window. They saw stacks of canvases waiting to be painted. A pottery wheel stood in a corner, near a kiln. Art supplies filled shelves against one wall.
“Let’s go inside,” Gram said.
Josh’s leg brushed an old, crumbling gravestone that was leaning against the building. It was made of granite and stood about two feet tall. There were letters and numbers carved into the stone, but they were difficult to read. “Yuck,” Josh muttered.
Just then, a thin guy came out the door. “See you later, Kip,” he said, and walked down the street.
A tall man wearing a black apron over jeans stepped into the doorway. “Hi, Ms. Hathaway,” he said to Gram.
“Hello, Kip,” she said. “I brought my granddaughter and her friends. Kids, say hi to Kip Skane.”
Kip wore purple-tinted sunglasses. His blond hair was in a ponytail. The kids introduced themselves and shook hands.
Kip’s Place was one big room. Dink smelled paint and something sweet, like the glue he used to make models. Quiet music came from a speaker. In the back were two doors. One had a sign that said restroom, and the other said private. Between the doors were shelves that held jars of paint, pads of paper, paintbrushes, and a row of cans lined up like soldiers.
“Why do you have a gravestone outside?” Josh asked Kip.
“My cousin Bertie found that,” Kip told Josh. “Some of my customers are into doing gravestone rubbings. I’ll show you how, if you want.”
“That’s okay,” Josh said. “I don’t mess with gravestones!”
“Can you open the kiln?” Gram asked. “I can’t wait to see how my vase turned out!”
“I put a couple more pieces in with your vase,” Kip said. “Let’s see what we have.” He pulled a key from a pocket and inserted it into a lock on the kiln’s door. He twisted a handle, and the door opened.
Everyone looked into the kiln. They saw a pile of broken clay pieces.
“What happened?” Gram cried. “My vase is smashed!”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Hathaway!” Kip said. “This has never happened before. I must have set the heat too high.”
Gram just shook her head. “The vase was a gift for Maria,” she said. “I suppose I can make her another one.”
“Of course you can!” Kip said. “In fact, you can start right now.”
Gram looked at her watch. “No, it’s almost noon,” she said. “I want to get these kids settled, and I’ll bet they’re hungry enough to eat a horse!”
“Yes!” they all said at once.
“Or a spaceship,” Dink whispered to Josh.
They left while Kip was pulling chunks of broken clay from the kiln.
“I’m sorry your vase got busted up,” Dink said.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Gram said. “I’ll start another one tomorrow.”
“Where does your friend live?” Ruth Rose asked her grandmother.
“Right around the corner on Twenty-Fifth Street,” she answered.
A few minutes later, they stopped at a tall apartment building. A tree in front grew out of a small patch of grass. Daffodils around the tree’s trunk waved their yellow heads in the breeze.
“Maria’s on the fifth floor,” Gram said. “But there’s an elevator.”
They entered the building and took the elevator. “Turn to the left,” Gram said when they emerged from the car.
A short woman with red hair piled on top of her head was standing a few feet away. Two men and a woman were with her, their backs to the elevator.
“Maria, this is my grand—” Gram started to say.
“Thank goodness you’re here!” the small woman called. “I was so worried. These police officers are looking for you!”
One of the men and the woman wore blue police uniforms. The second man was short and dressed in a dark suit and tie. He had a thin black mustache, and he kept blinking. His cheeks were shiny and pink, as if he’d just shaved. The man was holding something wrapped in newspaper.
“I don’t understand, Maria,” Gram said. “Police to see me?”
“Maybe we could all go inside,” the female police officer suggested. She was tall and strong-looking. Her name tag read deming.
“Good idea,” Maria said, opening her door wide.
They all walked into her living room. Two sofas faced each other in front of a fireplace.
Dink saw hundreds of books on the shelves. A small table held a vase of daffodils. Empty vases stood in a row on the mantel over the fireplace. A cabinet held more vases behind a glass door.
“Kids, this is my best friend, Maria Hoffman,” Gram said quietly to Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose.
The kids said hi, but they couldn’t take their eyes off the police officers.
The adults sat on the sofas. Gram and Maria sat next to one another, facing the officers and the man with the mustache. The kids plopped together on the floor.
The male officer said, “I’m Officer Pete Foster. That’s Officer Tara Deming. This gentleman is Mr. Foley Royce. He asked us to come and chat with you, Ms. Hathaway.”
“Chat about what?” Ruth Rose’s gram asked.
“About this,” Mr. Royce said, unwrapping the newspaper and revealing a tall vase. It seemed to be painted silver, and the silver was tarnished nearly black in some places. He set the vase on the coffee table.
“Ms. Hathaway, have you ever seen that vase?” asked Officer Deming.
“It looks like the vase I made yesterday,” Gram said. “In Kip’s Place, around the corner. But it can’t be! Mine was broken in the kiln.”
Gram leaned over and placed her hands on the vase. “I think it is mine,” she said. “The clay is still a little soft.” She reached a hand into the vase. “I put a note inside…but it’s not here.”
Officer Foster pulled a plastic baggie from a pocket and handed it to Gram. The baggie held a slip of paper. “Is this the note?” he asked. “Mr. Royce found it in the vase.”
Gram held the baggie so she could see the paper. “It says my name and this address,” she said. “I put it in my vase so it wouldn’t get mixed up with some others. I don’t understand this at all.”
“Well, I understand!” Mr. Royce said. His voice was squeaky, like a little kid’s. He had an accent, reminding Dink of the people he had met in London, England. “This is a cheap forgery of the Royce Vase!”
