Dunc and the Scam Artists

by Gary Paulsen

  “I guess we better keep trying to think of a way to get the goods on the creep before he rips off somebody else. By the way, did you see that new piece in the paper about the old folks who were already ripped off? The article says the police think the crooks have probably left town. We may never see them again.”

  “That wouldn’t break my heart. Besides, I thought you were going to stay here and take care of me in my hour of need.” Amos pouted. “You know, bring me pizza, and …”

  “I am. I am—mostly. I just thought if we needed something to do, we could think about it.”

  “You go right ahead, Dunc. Give it your best shot. Think up your wildest, most off-the-wall plan. Just remember—I’m sick.”

  “Well, I was thinking about having you dress up like an old woman, since you can knit and all, and trying to lure the crooks back here. I thought you could—”

  “Boy, am I glad I’m sick. Maybe Brucie’s not such a bad kid after all.”

  “Don’t worry. I knew that one wouldn’t work. You don’t have anything a crook would want—that is, besides your baseball cards. And I’m not sure the crooks would come all the way back here for a four-dollar-and-seventy-five-cent baseball card collection.”

  Amos wasn’t paying attention. He had backed up to the closet and was rubbing his backside up and down against the edge of the door.

  “Stop that,” Dunc ordered. “Do you want all those bumps to turn inside out and make gross, ugly marks all over you? Your mom said not to scratch. Get back in bed and behave yourself.”

  “I can’t help it. This is worse than that time when we were running from a bear and I fell in the poison ivy.”

  “It wasn’t a bear. It was Carley’s little brother in his Roy Raccoon suit. And you wouldn’t have fallen if you hadn’t gotten so scared that you tied your shoelaces together in a hurry to get dressed.”

  “Details,” Amos said. “Anyway, this is worse.”

  “Try not to think about it. Look at the bright side. You are going to be well in time for Melissa’s birthday party.”

  “Melissa’s having a birthday party? How do you know? No one told me about it.”

  “Her mother told mine. They’re in the same bowling league. Anyway, that’s a long time from now. You ought to be as good as new by then.”

  Amos had a worried look on his face. “I bet she’s been calling and calling me. And I’m stuck up here in bed, not even allowed to come downstairs so I won’t infect anybody else. I wonder if I could get a phone installed up here in my room?”

  Dunc threw a pillow at him. “I wish I had never mentioned it. I just thought it would make you happy to know that you’ll be well by then.”

  “Happy? I’ve got to start making plans for a fabulous present. Something that will really wow her. Diamonds would probably be a little much. What about a sports car? A red one with a sun roof?”

  “Amos, she can’t drive yet. Get real. I have to go now. I’ll come over and check on you tomorrow.”

  Amos was staring at himself in the mirror above Dunc’s dresser.

  “I think they are all gone. I can’t find any bumps anywhere.”

  “Too bad you were sick most of spring break. Pure bad luck, having to go back to school on the first day you’re well,” Dunc said.

  “You said it. Trasky really poured on the homework too. He thinks all we have to do at night is sit around reading about Attila the Hun.”

  Dunc picked up a folder from the dresser. “Mrs. Ellerthorp gave me an A on my current events project about the elderly. She hopes they catch the crooks.”

  “She gave me a C. Just because I dropped it in Scruff’s water dish. You could still read it and everything. It was just slightly wrinkled. Some people are overly picky,” Amos said.

  Dunc was looking at his paper. “Want to ride over and check on Mrs. Dell before we get started on our homework? She could be back from vacation by now. I’d like to make sure that her so-called nephew isn’t busy trying to pull a fast one on her.”

  “You’ve got my vote. Anything beats homework. Hey, let’s stop and get a triple-whammy grape Sno-Kone on our way.”

  Mrs. Hawkins waved at them as they rode past her house. She held Napoleon, the poodle, in her lap the way you would hold a real baby.

  At Mrs. Dell’s house, no one was home. They decided to sit on the front porch and finish what was left of their Sno-Kones before heading back.

  Then a strange scratching sound came from inside the house.

  “Did you hear that?” Dunc asked.

  Amos gulped. “Yeah, I heard it. It’s coming from just inside that door. It’s the same sound the monsters make in movies. The kind where they eat people.”

  Dunc walked over to the door and slowly opened it. A ball of black fur jumped into his face.

  “Meeooww.”

  A large black cat ran off into the bushes.

  Amos laughed. “That cat sure had me worried for a minute.”

  Dunc didn’t hear a word he said. He was staring transfixed into the living room.

  “What is it?” Amos said. “Is something wrong? What are you looking at?”

  Dunc pointed toward the doorway.

  Amos ran over to the door, spilling what was left of his Sno-Kone down the front of his shirt.

  Across the room, sitting on a low table, was a green metal box with a white handle in the shape of an angel.

  “What is that doing here?” Amos said.

  “We have a situation,” Dunc said. “I think the crooks are back. Poor Mrs. Dell is probably in a lot of trouble. We’d better get that box down to the police station.”

  Amos picked up the box. “This thing weighs a ton. What’s in here?”

  Carefully, he opened the lid.

  Money.

  Stacks of money.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen so much money in all my life.” Amos said.

  “Here’s the evidence we need.” Dunc pulled several titles and bank books out of the box.

  “How do you suggest we carry this thing on our bikes all the way downtown?” Amos asked.

  “Look around for a stick or something we can run under the handle. We’ll ride carrying it between us on a pole.” He looked quickly around the room and shook his head. “There’s nothing that will work in here. I’ll get something from the shed.”

  He had just stepped inside the tool shed when he heard a car pull up. He saw the creep and Mrs. Dell get out and go inside the house.

  Dunc watched helplessly from the shed window. Amos was in there alone.

  He tried to clear his thoughts.

  He had to come up with a surefire way to get Amos out of there.

  He had to do something.

  What?

  He frowned. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. Maybe Amos had heard them drive up and had hidden. Maybe the creep wouldn’t catch him after all. It was possible that they wouldn’t even know Amos was in there. He and Dunc had parked their bikes at the side of the house, after all.

  They probably didn’t suspect a thing, Dunc decided.

  I’ll just wait right here. They’ll have to go somewhere after a while and then Amos will be free to come out of hiding.

  Time ticked by slowly, seeming to drag along, making Dunc feel impossibly old.

  How long should he wait? What if the creep had caught Amos? He could be torturing him for information even now. Rubbing honey on him and looking around for an anthill.

  Dunc shook all over. That was it. He couldn’t wait any longer. Amos was his best friend. No matter what happened, Dunc had to try and save him.

  He looked around the shed for something that would take the creep’s attention off of Amos. An ax handle was leaning against the back wall.

  He grabbed the handle and ran for the door.

  A blue car was parked in front of the house. Dunc eased up behind it and slipped around to the driver’s side.

  The door made an irritating metallic screech as he opened it.

  He h
eld his breath. No one came out of the house.

  Dunc took the ax handle and propped it up in the driver’s seat. Then he took a deep breath and quickly wedged it against the car’s horn.

  Hoonnnnnkkk!

  Dunc ran wide open for the back door and slammed around the corner, just as the front door flew open and the creep ran out to his car.

  Amos came flying out the back door at the same time and nearly ran over Dunc.

  “No time to explain,” Dunc said. “We’ve got to hide. He’ll be looking for us. Under the back porch. Now!”

  The creep was talking to someone: “There are two of them. They’re still here somewhere. I found two bikes by the side of the house. You look in the house and I’ll check down by the creek.”

  It was pitch black under the old wooden porch. Amos tried not to breathe. Something had definitely died under there recently. The smell was almost unbearable. The stale ground was rocky and uncomfortable.

  Amos felt something crawling up the back of his shirt. He couldn’t reach it and it was driving him crazy. He tried to ignore it and had almost succeeded—when he remembered centipedes.

  He’d seen them in National Geographic. They bit you. They had poison. They could kill you. First things fell off and then you died.

  It was too much. Amos exploded out from under the porch as if he’d been fired from a missile launcher. Dunc grabbed for him, missed, and called after him in a loud whisper. “Amos—get back in here before you get caught.”

  “Too late for that boys. You’re caught,” the big man boomed.

  A flashlight beamed at Dunc under the porch.

  “Come out of there squirt.”

  Dunc crawled out and stood up. “We were just inspecting the structure of the house. Pretty weak supports under the porch, if you ask me.”

  “Shut up and get in the house. Don’t try anything or I’ll tie your arms and legs in knots.”

  Oh great, Dunc thought. Another plan bites the dust.

  The big man shoved them toward the couch. “Sit down.”

  Mrs. Dell came down the stairs.

  “Oh, dear. What’s going on here?”

  Dunc turned to the lady. “Mrs. Dell you’ve got to help us. This is a bad man. He isn’t your nephew. He has us here against our will. We think he may be trying to steal from you. Please call the police.”

  She smiled at him like a kind aunt or grandmother. “Of course Frankie is my nephew, dear. I’ve known him since he was a little boy. I don’t think you understand. Frankie and I work together on little projects. I only let you boys work here to throw you off our trail. I’m afraid it didn’t work, did it?”

  “I told you not to let them hang around here. You should have let me take care of them,” Frankie almost snarled.

  The look on Mrs. Dell’s face became hard. “Shut up Frankie. Without me, you’d be nothing. You’d still be stealing hubcaps in L.A.”

  Dunc’s mouth fell open. “You mean you’re both crooks? You are the partner the police have been looking for?”

  “Pretty good disguise, isn’t it?” said Mrs. Dell in her sweetest grannylike voice. “You see, Frankie here does all the inside work, but I introduce him to the pigeons. Older people seem to trust older people. They really shouldn’t you know. We can be bad just as well as good.”

  Amos shook his head. “I can’t believe a nice lady like you would be involved in something as dishonest as this. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Now, now, don’t get excited honey. Everybody has to make a living.”

  “That’s enough talk,” Frankie said. “What should I do with them Auntie?”

  Mrs. Dell’s sweet expression changed again. “Take them upstairs and lock them in a closet. By the time they get out, we’ll be in sunny Mexico.”

  Frankie marched them upstairs and shoved them into a small closet.

  “Can’t we talk about this?” Amos asked.

  Frankie slammed the door in his face.

  “Not very talkative, is he?”

  Dunc pushed on the door. “Gorillas don’t have a very good command of the English language.”

  The closet was dark, too dark to see anything. There was only enough room to stand up or sit with their knees pulled up close.

  This was going from bad to worse, Dunc thought. Out loud he said, “Don’t worry Amos. I’ll think of something.”

  “You mean, this was not a part of your original plan?” Amos’s voice was sarcastic.

  “Not exactly. It’s more like a sidetrack. But I’m sure something will turn up.”

  Amos sighed. “I sure hope it does soon. It’s getting hard to breathe in here.”

  He had no sooner said that than they began to hear sirens. Police sirens.

  “Here comes the cavalry,” Dunc said. “Let’s let them know where we are.”

  They pounded and kicked the closet door and screamed at the top of their lungs.

  “Stand back from the door. We’ll have to pry it open.”

  The door flew open and two grateful boys came tumbling out to land at the feet of two policemen.

  “Thanks officers,” Dunc said.

  “No problem. We heard the racket and figured someone was in here.”

  Downstairs, two officers were sorting through the green metal box. Handcuffs were being applied to Mrs. Dell, who was protesting and claiming her innocence in her sweetest little-old-lady voice.

  “Good work boys.” The officer in charge shook their hands. “We’ve been after these two for a long time.”

  Out in the yard the creep was facedown in the grass. His arms were outstretched, and his knees were bent and his feet were sticking straight into the air.

  “What happened to him?” Amos asked.

  “I did.” Mrs. Hawkins came up from the side of the porch. “I saw you two ride in, but I never saw you ride out. So I called the police, then came over on my own to check things out. He came after me and I hit him.”

  “Hit him?” Dunc asked. “What with?”

  “A shovel. It left a print of his face in the metal. I hate to ruin a good shovel like that but it was an emergency.”

  “Well, however it worked out, thank you for saving us. We might have been in that closet for years.” Dunc smiled. “If there’s anything we can do for you, just let us know.”

  Mrs. Hawkins studied him. “To be honest, I could use a couple of strong boys to do a little yard work over at my place.”

  Amos shook his head, tried to signal Dunc but it didn’t work.

  “You’ve got it,” Dunc said.

  The police were kind enough to take the two exhausted boys and their bikes home.

  Dunc’s parents restricted him to the house, Mrs. Hawkins’s yard, and school until further notice or old age, whichever came first. Amos’s parents hadn’t even missed him, except that the house didn’t seem to be quite as wrecked as usual, so he could go over to Dunc’s house.

  Dunc was sitting on his bed. “We’re getting pretty good at this detective stuff. I think I’ll work us up a resume. Maybe we should advertise. All things considered, I think this was one of our better cases, don’t you?”

  “If you like centipedes, dark closets, the Incredible Hulk pushing you around and your life being threatened, I guess it was great.” Amos said. “Personally, I’d rather have a tooth pulled.”

  “Every case has its drawbacks. It’s the end result that matters. Mrs. Dell and her nephew are in custody. Frankie is squealing like a stuck pig. The police have enough evidence to put them both away for a long time. It’s a great feeling knowing we were a part of it.”

  “Too bad the newspapers don’t feel the same way. They didn’t even mention us in the article. The police got all the credit.”

  Dunc shrugged. “Oh well, that’s one of the things you have to expect when you’re a detective. We do all the work and they get all the glory.”

  “I was counting on some of that glory. Remember? Melissa was supposed to want my autograph.”

&nb
sp; “I know it didn’t quite work out that way this time. But don’t worry—there’s always next time.”

  “Count me out. I’ve had enough cops and robbers for one lifetime,” Amos said.

  “Speaking of Melissa, have you gotten an invitation to her party yet?” Dunc asked. “It’s only two days away.”

  “You don’t have to remind me. I’ve been ready for two weeks. My invitation probably got lost in the mail. Either that, or she wants to call and invite me personally.”

  The phone chose that exact moment to ring.

  Dunc tried to stop him. “Amos, it’s not her. This is my phone, remember? She wouldn’t call you here.”

  But by that time the back screen door was off its hinges, the garbage cans were flying through the yard, the rear fence was flattened and Amos was hanging in Mrs. Elmore’s clothesline across the alley.

  “Amos, are you alive?”

  A hand waved weakly at him through the clothesline ropes.

  Dunc sighed and went for a pair of scissors to cut Amos loose.

  It was going to be a long school year.

  Be sure to join Dunc and Amos in these other Culpepper Adventures:

  The Case of the Dirty Bird

  When Dunc Culpepper and his best friend, Amos, first see the parrot in a pet store, they’re not impressed—it’s smelly, scruffy, and missing half its feathers. They’re only slightly impressed when they learn that the parrot speaks four languages, has outlived ten of its owners, and is probably 150 years old. But when the bird starts mouthing off about buried treasure, Dunc and Amos get pretty excited—let the amateur sleuthing begin!

  Dunc’s Doll

  Dunc and his accident-prone friend, Amos, are up to their old sleuthing habits once again. This time they’re after a band of doll thieves! When a doll that once belonged to Charles Dickens’s daughter is stolen from an exhibition at the local mall, the two boys put on their detective gear and do some serious snooping. Will a vicious watchdog keep them from retrieving the valuable missing doll?