The Mystery of the Memorial Day Fire

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The Mystery of the Memorial Day Fire Page 12

by Campbell, Julie


  “It’s still a pretty flimsy story,” Sergeant Molinson said.

  “I thought so,” Jane Dix-Strauss agreed. “The secretary didn’t do a very good job of sounding like a fourteen-year-old, either. But Mr. Slettom isn’t a professional criminal, and I think we can assume he was just desperate enough to try anything. If it hadn’t worked, he would have tried something else.”

  “There was another good reason for him to think it would work,” Trixie said. “After all, it wasn’t important for you to believe the story. It was just important for you to show up. Anyone who’s had anything to do with you would know you’d show up after a phone call like that. If you were suspicious, you’d be even more likely to show up.”

  Jane Dix-Strauss laughed out loud. “I see I’ve already made my reputation here in Sleepyside,” she said.

  “If you knew I wasn’t the one who called you, then you must have known you were walking into a trap,” Honey said. “That’s awfully brave.”

  “In light of what happened, I’d say it was pretty foolhardy,” Jane confessed. “I knew it was a trap, but not that kind of trap. I thought Slettom would just happen by, find me in the stable, start the fire, and then haul me off to the police to accuse me of having set it. I really didn’t suspect I was in danger or I never would have come to the stable alone.”

  “You should have brought that big man you were with in the alley. He’d protect you. Who was he, by the way?” Trixie asked the question with exaggerated casualness.

  Jane Dix-Strauss cast a sidelong glance at Sergeant Molinson. Then, with a sigh, she said, “I guess I might as well confess. It’s bound to come out eventually.

  “You were more right than you knew, Trixie. The man I was with was a practicing arsonist, and the envelope I handed him did have money in it.” There was a round of exclamations, and Jane paused to let the excitement subside before she continued. “He was a source that I’d used in my other arson story. When I got suspicious about the first fire, I called him in for an opinion. He confirmed my suspicions, and I paid him for his — um - professional expertise.”

  “I suppose the name and whereabouts of this skilled professional are confidential information,” Sergeant Molinson said resignedly.

  “That’s right,” Jane Dix-Strauss said. She spoke softly, but there was a defiant look in her eye.

  “So you lied when you said Trixie hadn’t seen you behind the building,” Molinson said.

  “I didn’t lie, and I didn’t say Trixie hadn’t seen me behind the building. I said that Trixie was making a mistake, and she was. Accusing me with Slettom standing only ten feet away was a big mistake.”

  “One that almost cost you your life,” Trixie said regretfully.

  “Oh, come on,” Jane said. “It wasn’t that close a call. I’ve had worse.”

  “I’ll bet you have,” Trixie said admiringly. “That’s another thing that made me suspicious of you. You’ve written stories for big magazines. How come you’re working for a little paper like the Sun?”

  “I like to eat!” Jane retorted. “Sure, I’ve published some big stories — maybe one every year or two. That’s actually a successful free-lance career, but it isn’t much in the way of money. I finally decided I wanted a little security. That’s why I came here.”

  “Security!” Sergeant Molinson snorted. “Chasing around after arsonists and using that regular paycheck of yours to pay off other arsonists. That’s what you call security, I suppose!”

  Jane Dix-Strauss laughed again. “Yes, I suppose that is what I call security, although I’ll grant you it wouldn’t be the ideal for most people.”

  “I hope it’s ideal for you,” Trixie said. “I mean, I really hope you’ll stay in Sleepyside.”

  “I like it pretty well so far,” Jane Dix-Strauss said. “I realize, though, that there won’t always be as much excitement as there’s been in the past month.”

  “Well, if it’s excitement you’re looking for, you’ve fallen in with the right crowd,” Sergeant Molinson said. “Trixie and her chums are always at the center of whatever is going on in these parts.”

  “Oh, he’s just exaggerating,” Trixie said modestly.

  “Sure,” Jim said. “The fact that Trixie was trapped with you in a burning building tonight, dragged you to safety, and stayed to help put out the fire is far from commonplace. I’d say nothing similar has happened for a couple of months, at least.”

  Trixie turned to stick out her tongue at Jim and surprised him by yawning broadly in his face, instead. “Anyway,” she said dreamily, sinking back in her chair, “everything worked out just fine. Things always do, you know.”

  “That’s right,” Honey agreed. “The real arsonist has been caught, which means that Mr. Roberts will be cleared, which means that we’ll be able to sell lots of T-shirts and build lots of shelves.”

  “T-shirts? Shelves? I’m afraid that you lost me on that last curve,” Jane said.

  Briefly, fighting back sleep, Trixie explained about their plan to sell T-shirts and caps, thereby helping Mr. Roberts and themselves at the same time.

  “Some reporter I am,” Jane said. “I had no idea all this was happening. It sounds like a page one story to me — and it will be, as soon as I can sit up at a typewriter again.”

  “Really?” Honey asked. “You’ll write about us in the Sun?”

  “Absolutely. I have a good photo to use with the story, too, as I recall.”

  Honey giggled. “That’s right. I remember when your flash went off and set off Trixie’s temper along with it.”

  “That was before,” Trixie said huffily. “I’m ready to forget the past and think about the future. Why, if Jane writes about us, we’ll get orders for hundreds and hundreds of T-shirts. We won’t have to settle for paint and shelves. We can have wallpaper and carpet and a fireplace and —”

  “Whoa!” Brian said. “We’d better get you home to bed. You’re already dreaming.”

  “I am not,” Trixie protested, but she let Brian pull her to her feet and guide her out of the room.

  At the door, the Beldens met the doctor coming in, carrying his black bag. “Take good care of Jane,” Trixie told him. “She has an important story to write.”

  “This is the star of the story right here,” Brian said to the slightly startled doctor.

  “I’m not the star,” Trixie said. “All the Bob-Whites are.” And that’s just the way it should be, she thought as she and her brothers walked out into the clear summer night, forever and ever.

  Table of Contents

  1 * The Torchlight Parade

  2 * Retreat to Crabapple Farm

  3 * A Meeting of the Bob-Whites

  4 * “Arson!”

  5 * A Trip to Jail

  6 * At the Scene of the Crime

  7 * Trixie Has a Plan

  8 * One Clue Lost... One Clue Found

  9 * Selling and Sleuthing

  10 * Was It a Payoff?

  11* "We’re Going to the Police!”

  12 * The Right Suspect

  13 * Who, What, When, Where, and Why

 

 

 


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