by James Leck
“Do you still have it?”
“I gave it back to him on Tuesday.”
“That’s not what he says.”
“He’s lying!”
“Did he have to pay you one hundred and twenty-five dollars to get it back?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “Kind of. They wrecked my bike!”
“Mike Anderson wrecked your bike, Jack?”
“Did he personally wreck my bike?”
“Yes.”
“Probably not, but he knew who did!” I said, pounding the table with my fist.
“So let me get this straight. You admit that you took Mike Anderson’s diary —”
“I borrowed a small black book,” I said, cutting him off.
“You admit that you took Mike Anderson’s personal property and demanded he pay you in order to get it back?”
“Sure, I did those things, but I did them to protect a client and get some payback for some seriously rotten things that were done to my innocent bicycle.”
“Jack, you can’t forcibly take another student’s personal property and then demand money for its return. I’m hereby putting you on a one-week, in-school suspension, to begin immediately. And then this matter will be handed over to a disciplinary committee that will determine whether a more serious punishment is warranted.”
“A more serious punishment?”
“This isn’t a joke, Jack. You could be expelled.”
“Don’t I at least get a chance to face my accuser?”
“That’s not how this works. And, Jack, you are not permitted to speak to Mike Anderson in any way. You are to stay away from him. Are we clear on that?”
“Crystal,” I said.
“Good,” he said, standing up, “then follow me. I’ll show you to your quarters.”
Thursday, October 10, 8:44 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell
Snit walked me to a charming room just off the main office. It was a little bigger than a broom closet and tastefully furnished with a rickety old chair, a table, a computer from the 1980s and a pile of science textbooks that looked like they’d been eaten by a great white shark and then spit back into the sea.
“I’m going to get your work from your teachers,” Snit said. “And don’t think about leaving, Jack. Just consider this your classroom for the week.”
“No problemo,” I said. “It’ll give me a nice break from nasty distractions like windows and people.”
Snit glowered and left, shutting the door behind him.
I was itching to track down Mike and share a few kind words, but Snit probably had the office locked down tighter than a Doberman at a kitten convention, so I decided to turn my attention to Madeleine’s case instead. I checked KC’s phone. She hadn’t wasted any time texting me a few facts:
Art exhibit tonight. Madeleine sure to win. Her painting stolen from art room last night. You need to find it before 7!
An art heist was a new one on me, and I had to admit I was curious about the case, but I’d need a few more facts before I could get started. That was going to be tough while I was locked up like an animal, so I figured the best thing to do was to text KC for some more info. That’s when Snit burst back in.
“Mr. Lime,” he barked, “hand over that phone.”
“Do you know anything about a missing painting?” I asked.
“No more investigations, Jack, not during school hours and especially not while you’re serving a suspension.”
“The girl’s name is Madeleine Somethingorother. Do you have any leads?”
“Give me the phone, Mr. Lime.”
“I’m just trying to help somebody out,” I said, handing it over. “Besides, what kind of trouble could I get into while I’m locked up?”
“Stick to your schoolwork,” Snit said, putting a pile of worksheets on the desk. “Oh, and by the way, you’ve got someone to keep you company for the day.”
That’s when things went from bad to worse.
“I believe you already know Bucky King.”
I’m not sure what my face looked like when Bucky stepped into that broom closet, but he was grinning from ear to ear.
“Now, boys, I don’t want to hear a peep out of this room,” Snit said, “and this door stays open at all times.”
“Not a peep,” Bucky said, brushing past me and taking the only seat in the house. The chair screeched helplessly under his weight.
“I’ll get you another chair,” Snit said, and then he left us alone.
“What are you in for, Bucky — stealing candy from babies again, or were you just ripping their teddy bears apart?”
“I’ll be tearing somebody apart soon,” he said, jumping up and grabbing me by the collar.
Before I had a chance to risk my life with a witty reply, Mr. Van Kramp stepped into our cell, pushing a cushy-looking leather chair on wheels.
Van Kramp had replaced Ms. Priggs as the school secretary after she retired last year. He bicycled to work every day, coached the boys’ soccer team and was supposedly an expert mountain climber. He had blue eyes and straw-blond hair that always looked like it’d just been cut. He spoke with a British accent and had a habit of walking around in expensive-looking suits that made me wonder just how much a school secretary got paid. Since Van Kramp had arrived on campus, the girls at Iona High seemed to be spending a lot more time in the office.
“I hate to interrupt,” he said, “but Mr. Snit asked me to bring you another chair.”
“Thanks,” Bucky said, letting me go and grabbing the chair from Van Kramp.
“You’re very welcome,” Van Kramp said, “and let’s keep the noise down, chaps. I have work to do.”
“Not a peep,” Bucky said. Van Kramp smiled, flashing us his ridiculously white teeth, and left.
Bucky dragged his comfortable new seat over to the desk, kicked the old one into the corner and laid his head down on the desk.
“Don’t wake me up unless Snit’s on his way. Got it, Lime?”
I figured the old chair Bucky had been using was about ready to fall to pieces, so I sat down on the ground and started hatching my escape plan. The good news was that there were only two things standing in my way. The bad news was that those two things were Mr. Snit and Mr. Van Kramp.
Thursday, October 10, 9:28 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell
Being in the detective game means I solve tricky problems for a living, so it didn’t take me long to figure out a way to bust out of this Popsicle stand. I just had to make sure the timing was right. I waited until first period was about to end and then rolled into action.
“Mr. Van Kramp,” I said, poking my head out the door, “I need to pee, and fast, or there’s going to be a big mess in here.”
Van Kramp stopped typing and looked at me like I’d just done my business on his shoes. “Be quick about it,” he grumbled, and then went back to work.
I ran out of the office and made my way to the main foyer. The bell rang just as I arrived, and kids started streaming out of their classes. I leaned against the far wall and waited for KC Stone to wander by. I didn’t have to wait long.
“Let’s walk and talk,” I said, sliding up beside her.
“What did Snit want?” KC asked.
“Mike the Bookie is dragging my name through the mud. He told Snit I swiped his diary and then forced him to pay a wad of dough to get it back. What a bunch of baloney.”
“Did you do those things?” KC asked.
“Of course I did!” I yelled. “But it wasn’t a diary, it was a betting ledger, and I used the cash to help save Lance’s Munroe’s golden derriere.”
“So what now?” she asked.
“Now I’m under lock and key in the main office for a week, which means it’s going to be hard to solve this case without a little help.”
&
nbsp; “What can I do?”
“I need info.”
“Fire away.”
“Was the door to the art room locked last night?”
“Absolutely,” KC said. “I asked the art teacher myself. She said she put the paintings in the supply room at four-thirty yesterday afternoon and locked the door behind her. This morning when she opened the supply room, Madeleine’s painting was gone.”
“Were any other paintings stolen?”
“Nope.”
“Any suspects? Anyone who would want Madeleine out of the way?”
“I asked Madeleine the same thing. She thinks a guy named Sebastian Cain would probably win if she’s out of the contest.”
“Why would he want to win so bad? What’s on the line?”
“The winner is picked by a bunch of profs from the art college in the city. Whoever wins first prize is guaranteed a spot at the college next fall. Plus, Luxemcorp features the winner in their monthly business magazine and puts the artwork on display at the art gallery on Main Street. It’s big-time exposure, Jack.”
“Anything else you need to tell me, KC?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “By the way, where’s my phone? I need it back.”
“You’ll have to ask Snit,” I said. “He has a problem with students using phones during suspension.”
“Why don’t you do it for me,” she said with a crooked smile. “He’s right behind you.”
Thursday, October 10, 9:39 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell
Bucky was still asleep on the desk when Snit and I walked back in.
“Rise and shine, Mr. King,” Snit barked, slamming a stack of worksheets on the desk.
“It wasn’t me,” King mumbled, sitting up.
“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Snit said with a cold smile. “But perhaps you should start catching up on your work instead of your sleep. And thanks to Mr. Lime, you won’t be allowed out of here without an escort. If you need to use the bathroom, gentlemen, you’ll have to ask Mr. Van Kramp if he can spare some time.”
Snit stalked out, and Bucky handed over the pile of worksheets that Snit had left on the desk.
“You heard the man,” he said, tossing them on the floor, “get to work, Limey.”
“I’ll get to it,” I said, “but first I want to know if you’ve ever heard of a cat named Sebastian Cain.”
“Don’t know him.”
“What about an art heist, Bucky? Have any of your lackeys been busy stealing paintings?”
“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “Bucky King is real big into paintings. Me and the boys are having a sale down by the river tonight. Black tie. Why don’t you drop by and take a look around.”
“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass.”
“Then stop your yakking. I had a late night.”
My gut was telling me I was barking up the wrong tree. Unless Bucky could sell what he stole for a tidy stack of cash, he wasn’t interested. Even an award-winning painting wasn’t going to fetch much dough on the Iona High black market. So I sat down in the corner and tried to come up with a new way to get out of this hole.
Thursday, October 10, 11:50 a.m.
Iona High, My Cell
All the snoring Bucky was doing got to me after a while, so I decided to catch a little shut-eye myself, just to freshen up, you understand. Unfortunately, I didn’t wake up until the lunch bell rang, and I still wasn’t any closer to solving this case. I couldn’t do that without gathering some more info, and I couldn’t do that until I got out of this joint. Lucky for me, Bucky woke up, too.
“Van Kramp!” he yelled, stepping out of our cell. “I need to use the john.”
“Fine,” Van Kramp said, “come with me. I need to get something to eat anyway.”
Sometimes you have to be grateful for what you’ve got, even if the only thing you’ve got is Bucky King and his full bladder. I waited a few seconds and then peeked out. The main office was empty and Snit’s door was shut, which usually meant he was meeting with someone important. So, like a good little jailbird, I grabbed my opportunity, slipped outside and headed for the cafeteria.
Thursday, October 10, 11:52 a.m.
Iona High, The Cafeteria
I snuck in the back way and spotted KC sitting at a table with Madeleine and a couple of other kids. Van Kramp was busy ordering something to eat at the front counter, so I slunk up to KC’s table and sat down.
“Lime,” KC said, “I didn’t think Mr. Snit would let you out for lunch.”
“He didn’t,” I said, hunching down a little as Van Kramp turned and walked out of the cafeteria. “I don’t have much time, so we need to talk fast. Has Cain done anything suspicious?”
“I don’t know,” KC said. “I haven’t monitored Cain’s every move, what with school going on and all. But we found this stuck to Madeleine’s locker,” she added, handing over a red envelope.
I gave it a quick once-over. It was your standard envelope, except for the fact that it was red. There was a piece of tape still stuck to the top. I assumed it’d been used to stick the envelope onto Madeleine’s locker. There was another piece of tape on the back that’d been used to seal it shut.
“Are you planning on dusting it for fingerprints?” KC said. “Or are you going to read what’s inside?”
“That’s what separates the amateurs from the pros, Stone,” I said, holding the envelope up so that KC could see the back. “Whoever stuck this to Madeleine’s locker doesn’t like to lick envelopes.”
“Wow,” KC said, “I stand corrected, Lime. The envelope is important! Now we just need to question every student at school and find out who doesn’t like licking envelopes.”
“It’s a clue,” I growled.
“A lame clue,” KC said. “Why don’t you just read the letter?”
I opened the envelope and pulled out a plain white sheet that had been folded twice. It read, “Put $50 in this envelop. put it under the last seat on the left, on the last car of the 5 pm train into the city. If you do this I’ll call the pay phone near the restrooms at the train station at 5:15 and tell you wear you can find the painting. If you don’t, I’ll destroy the painting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“What do you think, Lime?” KC asked.
“I think that whoever wrote this note really likes using exclamation points.”
“Hardee-har-har,” KC said. “What else?”
“It was printed in the library,” I said.
“How do you know that?” KC asked.
“Can you see the faint ink smudge running down the left side?” I said, showing the note to everyone at the table. “The printer in the library leaves that smudge behind every time.”
Judging by their reactions, the others were impressed by that little bit of detective work.
“Plus, I’d say the perp was in a hurry.”
“Because of the spelling mistakes?” KC asked.
“Exactly,” I said. “KC, you’re getting better at this all the time. Pretty soon you’ll be able to solve crimes all by yourself.”
“Keep talking like that, Jack, and the next big mystery at this school will be you disappearing forever,” she said, glaring at me.
That’s when Van Kramp walked back into the cafeteria and started snooping around.
“I don’t have time for your gum slapping, Stone,” I said, slipping off my chair and squatting beside the table. “Give me a phone, quick, so I can stay in touch.”
“Mr. Snit still has mine,” KC said.
“You can have mine,” Madeleine said, reaching into her pocket.
“No, take mine,” another kid said. He was a big guy with brown hair that hung down to his shoulders. “This way you can contact Madeleine yourself. Her number’s on my phone. Just make sure you find that painting, okay?”
&
nbsp; “Thanks,” I said, and slipped his phone into my pocket. I jumped up and was about to make a clean getaway when my grandma and Mr. Snit came through the doorway.
“Jack! Eric! Lime! What! Do you think! You’re doing!”
“Grandma,” I said, “why are you here?”
“I think you know why I’m here,” she said, and then she turned and marched out of the cafeteria.
“Let’s go back to my office, Mr. Lime,” Mr. Snit said. “I think we need to go over a few things.”
Thursday, October 10, 12:07 p.m.
Iona High, Snit’s Office
Apparently my grandmother was the important person that Snit had been talking to when I slipped out of my cell. Apparently he called her in to discuss the false accusations of physical intimidation and theft that had been flung in my direction by Mike the Bookie. Apparently she wasn’t too happy about the whole situation.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Snit,” my grandma said through gritted teeth, “let’s hear what Jack has to say.”
Snit nodded. “Go ahead, Jack.”
“You want to know what I have to say? I say I’m the thorn in the side of every two-bit crook and criminal this side of the Iona River. I say the grifters and goons in our little burg are getting tired of me ruining their plans, so they’re starting to point their crooked fingers in my direction. I say that the dirty rotten scoundrel who’s behind these charges is bitter because I hurt his gambling operation. I say you cut me loose and this problem will be solved faster than you can say slander.”
“Jack,” Grandma said, “you’re telling me that you didn’t steal anything?”
“I didn’t steal anyone’s diary,” I said. “I might’ve temporarily taken some incriminating information out of the hands of a blackmailer, but I only did that to protect a client.”
“Who was your client, Jack?” Snit asked. “Maybe they can corroborate your story.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Mr. Snit. They have to remain anonymous.”
“Jack!” Grandma yelled. “It’s not your job to protect everyone at Iona High. And you can’t sit here and tell me that you only borrowed something. Stealing is stealing.”
“I gave it back,” I said. “Just like I said I would.”
