“But his brother said that they checked the police department here in Oak Grove, and he wasn’t there,” I said.
Zach appeared to be losing patience. “Then call some of the others. I thought you were the private eye,” he said.
“I will do that,” I said. “But don’t you think that any police department would have contacted his mom to let her know he was there?”
Zach laughed. “You don’t know Josh. When he gets himself arrested, he clams up. He won’t tell ’em anything. Not his name, address, nothing. To them, he’s just another John Doe. They wouldn’t know who to call.” Zach lifted himself off the bed. “Oh, here in town, they know him. That’s why he’s not in the Oak Grove jail. If he were, the cops would’ve called his mom. Listen, if I were you, I’d check some of the other police stations in the area. You got a picture of Josh to show them?”
“Yeah,” I said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the picture that Sherman had given me.
“Okay, that’s all I can tell you. You better go now,” Zach said. “Your five minutes are up.”
“Thanks a lot. I appreciate it.”
Zach led me out of the apartment and walked me down the stairs. When I reached the front door, I smiled and waved, then turned to leave.
“Hey, kid,” he said.
“Yeah?”
“I hope you do find him. I miss the guy. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” I said as I stepped out onto the front porch.
Henry and Scarlett were waiting patiently on the front sidewalk. By the looks on their faces, I could tell they were eager to know what I had learned.
“Well?” Henry said.
I jumped down the stairs, remembering to avoid the bad one.
“He doesn’t know where Josh is,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Henry asked. “Maybe he’s lying.”
I picked up my bike and hopped on. “He’s telling the truth. I can tell.”
“What are you—a human lie detector?” Scarlett said.
Henry folded his arms. He didn’t appear happy with my results. “All I needed is two minutes with the guy and I’d have him talking. I’d show him who was boss.” Henry considered himself the master interrogator. He wasn’t afraid to get in someone’s face. What he didn’t seem to understand was that every source presented different challenges. Not everyone responded well to an aggressive line of questioning. He’d need to learn that.
“You gotta trust me on this one,” I said. “C’mon.”
“Now where?” Scarlett asked.
“Josh’s old girlfriend. She lives about fifteen minutes from here in that direction,” I said, pointing north.
“Aren’t you gonna tell us what happened in there?” Henry said.
“I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go.”
As we traveled to our next destination, I shared the conversation that I had with Zach, word for word, with the others. I described the condition of the stairwell and the apartment, including the posters in Zach’s bedroom. I told them about his mom, who didn’t seem particularly friendly. They especially enjoyed the part where Zach hurled a baseball at the wall. And by the time I had finished, we were all on the same page again. Like me, they were now convinced that Zach was telling the truth—even Henry. Both he and Scarlett even thought that he had probably told me more than he had shared with the police if or when they had questioned him. His mom’s tone seemed to indicate that the authorities might have paid them a visit at some point.
Following our upcoming chat with Josh’s former girlfriend, we discussed the possibility of visiting police departments in the towns surrounding Oak Grove. The only downside to that plan was the distance we’d have to travel by bike to each location. If we decided to do so, we’d be putting in some pretty serious mileage. But, on the plus side, I’d be shedding some pretty serious calories. That would please my mom, although there was no way I could tell her about my new weight-loss plan.
It felt good to be making some progress. As we were pedaling through town, I thought back to my conversation with Zach. Trying to get information from him was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t until he felt comfortable with me that he opened up. I had tried to remain calm and seem more like a friend than a snoop for hire. It had worked. And it reminded me of another Sam Solomon mystery—Episode #21—The Thyme Bomb Caper.
This was the story of a world-renowned chef at Chicago’s Palmer House whose grandson had been kidnapped by a militia group. The chef had been warned that if he contacted the police, he would never see his grandson again. The chef had been planning a special main course—roast goose—for the president, who was in town to attend a campaign fund-raiser. But now the bird served at the president’s table would have one additional ingredient—an explosive device. Sam had been hired by the president’s staff to assist the Secret Service. Only minutes before dinner was served, Sam discovered the dirty bird following a lengthy interrogation of the chef. Rather than resorting to tough talk, he befriended the grief-stricken cook and eventually earned his trust.
Sam had taught me well. With some suspects, you had to get tough. But with others, like Zach, you had to seem more like an old friend. And oh, by the way, speaking of Sam—you’ll be happy to learn that the chef’s grandson was found unharmed. Thanks to Sam, there was one more cooked goose that night—the leader of the militia group.
CHAPTER 8
The Bartlett Pair Caper
Most of our ride across town was uphill. That kept conversation to a minimum. But it didn’t stop Henry from taking another shot at trying to stump me.
“Hey, Charlie,” he said as he slowed down to ride alongside me. “Before Mount Everest was discovered, what was the highest mountain in the world?”
Scarlett suddenly seemed interested. “Let me try too,” she said.
“Is your name Charlie?” Henry shot back.
“I don’t care,” I said. “She can try if she wants to.”
Henry didn’t look pleased. “Okay, so what’s the answer?”
“Well,” Scarlett said, “there’s Mount McKinley, Mount Rainier…”
I didn’t want to correct Scarlett, but those peaks weren’t even close. And even if she managed to name the really tall mountains in Tibet and Nepal and Pakistan, it wouldn’t matter. I could tell by the smirk on Henry’s face that this was not a social studies question. He was trying to trick me. It took me about thirty seconds to figure it out.
“The tallest mountain before Mount Everest was discovered?” I said.
“Yeah,” Henry said confidently.
“The answer is…Mount Everest,” I said. “Whether someone had discovered it or not, it was still the tallest.” I glanced at Henry. The smirk was gone.
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Scarlett said.
“Scarlett, let me give you a little advice,” I said. “Just about all of Henry’s brainteasers are trick questions. First, you have to eliminate the obvious. Then think about each word in the question. In no time, you’ll figure it out.”
Henry squeezed his brakes and skidded to a stop. “Oh yeah? Let’s see if she can answer this one.”
We all stopped and moved over to the curb.
I pointed to Scarlett. “Okay, now remember what I said.” Then I turned to Henry. “Let ’er rip.”
“Let’s say you’re standing on a bridge over a river. You see a boat filled with people. But actually there’s not a single person on the boat.” Henry grinned. “Figure that one out.”
Henry had asked me this one about a year ago. I still remembered the answer. If Scarlett faithfully followed the directions I had given her, I knew she could solve it.
“I’m standing on a bridge over a river,” she began. “I see a boat filled with people. But there’s not a single person on it?”
“That’s what I said,” Henry replied.
“You can do this,” I told her.
Henry got off his bike and sat down on the curb. “We could be here for a while.”
Sc
arlett’s lips were moving, but she made no sounds. She seemed to be repeating the question over and over again. She was stressing different words each time she said it. At first she just appeared confused. But that soon morphed into a look of frustration. She sighed.
“Concentrate,” I said.
“What do you think I’m doing?” she said disgustedly. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and began breathing rapidly through her nose. A minute later, she sighed and shook her head. And then just as she was about to throw in the towel, she experienced that magical moment—the moment I’ve enjoyed countless times—when all of the planets align. She had it. She had solved Henry’s riddle. Scarlett held her head up proudly. “There’s not a single person on the boat…because they’re all married,” she announced confidently.
Henry threw his head back. He was now 0 for 2. He jumped onto his bike and took off. He didn’t even wait for us.
I don’t mind telling you I had a pretty tough time keeping up with him after that. In his present state of mind, Henry was quite capable of putting some real distance between us. I just put my head down and pedaled furiously. Unfortunately I didn’t pay attention to where I was going. HONK! I had drifted too far into the middle of the street when a green minivan rudely reminded me of my navigation error.
Since I could see Henderson Park up ahead, I knew we were getting close. I pulled over to the curb. Scarlett joined me. Henry didn’t even notice we had stopped. He was well ahead of us in his own little world. I took a look at the piece of paper that Sherman had given me with names and addresses. I was looking at the name—Deirdre Sweeney. Sherman had described her as Josh’s on-and-off girlfriend. Hopefully she would have a better idea of Josh’s whereabouts than Zach. If the address on the paper was correct, we were headed to 437 West Paradise Avenue. I was guessing it was about a half mile away now.
A couple of minutes later, when we turned onto Paradise, Henry was waiting for us. He had parked his bike on the driveway next to Deirdre’s house, and he was leaning against an oak tree in the front lawn.
“What kept you?” he said in a nonchalant manner.
I thought it best to say nothing. When Henry got into one of those foul moods, there was no telling what he might do or say. I was just about to step off my bike when I was startled by a very unwelcoming voice.
“What do you want?”
I offered what must have looked like a weak smile.
“My name is Charlie Collier.”
The girl on the front porch crossed her arms. She must have been sixteen or seventeen, but by the way she spoke, she seemed older.
“And that’s supposed to mean something to me?!” she shot back.
We hadn’t been formally introduced, but I was fairly certain that we were talking to Deirdre Sweeney. There was a distrustful tone in her voice, similar to Zach’s. What was up with these folks anyway? I wondered. Maybe they just assumed that everyone thought differently than they did. I guess they were conditioned to be on the defensive at all times. Regardless of the reason, her unfriendly greeting didn’t make a body feel particularly welcome.
“We’d like to ask you some questions about Josh Doyle,” I said.
“Never heard of him,” she said.
Henry stepped in front of me and held up his hand. He was apparently going to demonstrate how to crack an uncooperative witness.
“Excuse me, miss. My name is Henry Cunningham. I have a few questions for you. You say you’ve never heard of Josh Doyle. Well, his brother tells us that you and Josh have dated in the past. Explain that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped.
A large, menacing figure in an undershirt and sweatpants appeared in the doorway.
“What’s going on here?” the man said in a gruff voice.
“Nothing, Daddy,” Deirdre answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of them.”
“You selling something?” he shouted at us.
“No, sir,” Henry replied.
“Just go back and watch TV,” Deirdre said. “It’s okay.” Mr. Sweeney reluctantly exited. Deirdre bounced down the steps and approached us.
“Have you heard from Josh? Do you know where he is?” she whispered.
I liked to think that we were good at what we did, but never had a person of interest changed her tune so quickly.
“I was hoping you could tell us,” Henry said.
Deirdre sat down on the bottom step and stared forward.
“I haven’t seen him for weeks. I’m worried about him,” she said.
“So he didn’t tell you where he was headed?” I said.
Deirdre shook her head. “He could be anywhere. But I have a feeling he’s not too far from here.”
“Why do you say that?” Scarlett asked.
“The last time I saw him, he said that there was something he had to do the next day. So he couldn’t have gone very far. He didn’t have any money for transportation.”
“Did he say specifically what it was he had to do?” Henry said.
“He told me he needed to take a stand. He needed to get people’s attention. He needed to keep them from harming those poor, defenseless creatures.”
“What creatures?” I said.
Deirdre shrugged. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
I could tell from the look on her face that she really cared for Josh. She seemed genuinely worried about his disappearance. I could sense the passion in her voice.
“And so that was it?” I said.
“Josh said that if everything went as planned, he’d see me in a couple of days. That was about three weeks ago.” She stood up and climbed to the top of the porch. “If you guys hear anything, you gotta tell me. I’m worried. His knee was pretty swollen that day. He’s got a bad leg, you know. He was having a hard time moving around when he left here.” Deirdre paused for a moment, let out a long sigh, and disappeared behind her front door.
Henry lifted his bike from the driveway and smiled. “And that, my friends, is how you handle an interrogation,” he said.
“But we didn’t really learn anything new,” Scarlett said.
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “I just have a feeling that at some point in the very near future, we’ll think back to this conversation and realize that Deirdre gave us a valuable piece of information.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to justify the fact that we biked all the way over here for nothing,” Scarlett said.
“You may be right. We’ll see,” I said. “But right now, let’s head back to my house. I don’t think my mom would mind making lunch for us. Then we can plot out our next move. C’mon.”
I tried to sound confident, but I had no idea what our next move would be. And I wondered if Scarlett was right. Had we just wasted an entire morning? We were no closer to finding Josh than we had been when Sherman wandered into the garage days ago. We had put in the legwork but had nothing to show for it. But we weren’t alone—Sam Solomon had experienced the same thing. Weeks of research, investigations, and stakeouts had produced zilch—not a shred of evidence. It was Episode #27—The Bartlett Pair Caper.
Josiah Bartlett, who was suffering from a terminal illness, hired Sam to help find his identical twin, Jeremiah. He just wanted to say good-bye. The two had been separated at infancy. Sam spent more than a month trying to track down the missing brother. He had spoken with dozens of sources and had spent endless hours on the case. He was just about ready to give up when he got a tip regarding the whereabouts of Jeremiah Bartlett. Not only was Sam able to locate the long-lost brother, but since he was Josiah’s identical twin, a simple blood transfusion from this perfect match helped cure his ailing client. If Sam was patient enough to suffer through a series of dead ends to uncover the truth, then I was more than capable of doing the same.
As I had predicted, my mom was only too happy to welcome two extra guests for lunch. She was always pleased to see me with other kids. I think she worried about my ability to make frie
nds—you know, because of the whole weight-challenged thing and all.
“So, Scarlett,” she said, “I think I’ve met your mother before…at a school function maybe.”
“I’m not sure, Mrs. Collier. But you probably have.”
My mom winked at me while she threw two more grilled cheese sandwiches onto the griddle. I think she was happy to learn that I actually had a friend who was a girl. She must have thought I was moving up the social ladder at school. Sorry to disappoint you, Mom, but this relationship, unfortunately, was all business.
“Personally, I can’t wait to dig my teeth into another one of your famous grilled cheese sandwiches, Mrs. Collier,” Henry said. He always seemed to know when to turn on the charm. And a free meal was apparently one of those times.
My dad sat at the head of the table with his face buried in the newspaper. He didn’t seem to notice, or at least pretended not to, when Grandma tiptoed into the kitchen and plopped herself down between Henry and me. She was wearing a tight-fitting, black bodysuit. Her face was painted white, and on her head was a black beret.
Henry leaned back and smiled. He had witnessed Gram’s rather unconventional behavior before, and he was a big fan.
I was only sorry that Scarlett had to see what was coming.
Gram immediately began her best mime performance. She reached for an imaginary plate, then scooped spoonfuls of nothing into it. She began chewing heartily, then at one point seemed to choke on something. She grabbed her throat and pointed into her mouth.
I knew this was all part of the act, but I also knew that if someone didn’t quickly become a willing participant in this performance, Grandma would continue until someone caved in. You should have seen the look on Scarlett’s face. To spare the others any more drama, I leaned over, put my arms around my grandmother from behind, and proceeded to perform the Heimlich maneuver. She gagged, choked, then pretended to spit something onto the table.
My dad did his best to ignore Gram’s theatrics. He didn’t want to encourage her. Whenever she assumed a new identity, he would just ignore it and act like everything was normal.
The Camp Phoenix Caper Page 7
