The Headless Mummy

by Dave Keane

  “They only found the scarab you gave me!” I correct him. “We still have time to find your head.”

  “Oh, heavens, you were so scared you wet your pants!” cries Mr. Klopper, grabbing his forehead in panic.

  “No, Doreen peed my pants!” I protest.

  He just shakes his head, not really listening anymore. “I’m afraid we’re all about to turn into pumpkins,” he says heavily.

  As if this case couldn’t get any weirder, a rooster suddenly crows in my pants.

  WHAT ON EARTH?

  Wait! Hold the phone!

  I pull out my mom’s cell phone and stare at it. It cock-a-doodle-doos again in the palm of my hand. My mouth falls open at the strangeness of it all.

  “Uh, I’ve been downloading new ring tones for Mom,” Hailey says with a goofy grin.

  “And you chose a rooster?” I manage to ask before the phone crows another wake-up call.

  “I actually installed a software program that rotates thirty different farm animals,” she says cheerfully. “Cool, eh?”

  I snap the phone open before the obnoxious rooster crows again. “Hello,” I answer.

  “Coach Lowney just called and wants to know why you’re not at practice,” my snarky big sister snarks on the other end of the line.

  Oh, no! I’m on the Baskerville junior track team, and I keep missing practices for a variety of reasons—which I really don’t have time to get into right now. “Could you just tell him I’m working on a case at the moment?” I plead into the phone.

  “What am I? Your personal assistant?” Jessie snarls. “Call him yourself!”

  If I ever made a list of all the things more irritating than my big sister, it would have nothing on it. “Let me guess,” I snarl back, “your new husband, Billy Frick, had to go home and write a love song about your big ears.”

  The phone goes dead. She’s hung up on me. Is it any surprise that the great Sherlock Holmes never carried a cell phone? I’m convinced they kill brain cells.

  “Don’t ask,” I grumble when I notice Hailey and Mr. Klopper staring at me.

  “I’ve got to get you kids out of here,” Mr. Klopper begins again. “I don’t want you to get in—”

  “MOOOOOO!” the cell phone interrupts. This is unbelievable!

  “Hey, I haven’t heard the cow yet,” Hailey chirps, clearly impressed by the farm animal phone.

  “I HEAR SOMEONE UP THERE!” Benito roars from somewhere downstairs. “STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”

  A herd of footsteps comes pounding up the creaky stairs outside the office door. Our location has been given away by a cow!

  “Quick! Down the back stairs!” Mr. Klopper says, racing to a door near the back of his office.

  I shove the cell phone into my pocket. Then I grab the animal crackers box off his desk so as not to leave the evidence behind for Benito to find. I need to maintain Mr. Klopper’s innocence for as long as I can.

  The door is clearly labeled as a fire exit, and it wails in alarm when we throw it open. As we scramble down the dimly lit stairs, the cell phone moos loudly again.

  If things could get any worse, I don’t know how. But I’m sure I will soon find out. I’m on a roll!

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darkness Falls

  “I’m not going down there!” I squeak.

  A breathless Mr. Klopper unhooks a velvet rope that hangs in front of a stone stairway. The stairs plunge straight down into pure blackness. It looks like the slippery slope to the afterlife, the one that brainless mummy guys are always trying to find.

  “There is no time to argue,” Mr. Klopper gasps, grabbing a torch off the wall next to the entrance to the tomb. “Here, take this,” he says, shoving the torch into my hand and almost burning off my eyebrows.

  “OUCH!” I scream. I gently touch my face to see if it feels like a cheese pizza. “Do I still have eyelashes?”

  “We should have brought marshmallows,” Hailey says, smacking me on the shoulder.

  “Please keep your voices down,” Mr. Klopper says, looking nervously down the hallway in both directions.

  I flinch in alarm as my pants begin to squeal and oink as if I’m sitting on a hog the size of a blimp.

  This dang Farmer Fred phone is going to put me in prison!

  “Wow! I didn’t know there was a pig in the rotation!” Hailey laughs. “That is so cool.”

  Despite all these distractions, I’m still worried that the suspiciously empty animal crackers box will be uncovered as the way Mr. Klopper smuggled the mummy head in and out of the museum. I hand him the box. “Hide this where Benito won’t find it,” I say. “We need to buy as much time as possible.”

  “Where?” he asks, taking the box like it’s a ticking bomb.

  “Leave it on the sidewalk outside the back door we came through,” Hailey suggests. “They might think it’s related to the scarab being used as a doorstop.”

  “Good idea,” I say. The giant pig snorts again from my pocket. “And just deny that you had anything to do with anything until you hear from me.”

  “Quick, they’re coming!” Mr. Klopper says, and pushes me toward the stairs. Just as the enormous pig in my pants squeals for a third time, I swallow the lump in my throat, hold the torch out in front of me, and scurry down the stairs.

  “This is amazing,” Hailey whispers just inches from my ear. “They wouldn’t let us come down here on our Minds of Tomorrow tour. This is strictly for members only.”

  “Then we need to fill out an application,” I whisper back, as we continue deeper and deeper into what looks like an actual Egyptian tomb.

  As earsplitting pig sounds echo off the walls of the cramped stairwell, I can’t help but think that my mom is more popular than I ever imagined. Finally the oinking stops. Several seconds later the cell phone whinnies like a horse.

  “Somebody’s left a message,” says Hailey. “I can’t wait to hear the donkey,” I grumble.

  We reach the bottom of the stairs and step slowly into some sort of underground chamber. I feel sand under my feet. I smell dead things. I wonder if mummy tombs come equipped with bathrooms.

  Hailey clears her throat. “Uh, I’m not so sure a donkey can be classified as a classic farm animal.”

  “WHAT ABOUT THAT?” I wail, thrusting the torch into the air to protect us from an enormous monster emerging from the darkness. It has the body of a giant man and the face of a snarling and hungry-looking dog!

  And dogs have never liked me!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Monster Terror

  “RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!”

  “Have you lost your mind?” Hailey growls from behind me.

  “NO! There’s some kind of monster-dog-man thing coming this way!” I screech.

  “That’s just Anubis, you nutcase,” Hailey says, grabbing the torch out of my hand and walking over to the giant. “See?” she says, slapping the monster on the shin. “It’s just a statue. He’s the god of the dead and the guardian of tombs and stuff. Egyptian priests often wore a mask like this one during mummy-making rituals.”

  “Neat,” I croak, blinking into the darkness. “In the flickering light of the torch I thought it was—”

  “Don’t worry,” she says, “I won’t tell anybody.” She hands the torch back to me. “And that’s not a dog, it’s a jackal.”

  “I was just thinking that,” I say in a not-very-convincing way.

  “A jackal is sort of like a coyote, hyena, and fox all rolled into one,” she says. “But don’t worry, they don’t live around here,” she adds. She walks over to a mummy-shaped golden coffin near the back of the tomb.

  As you may remember, I’m not the most comfortable guy in the dark, so I’m thankful to have the torch. As Hailey oohs and aahs over the sparkly mummy box, I finally have a peaceful moment to organize my thoughts.

  I’ve had this nagging, tugging feeling that I’m missing something. It’s as if the answer I’m seeking is right out in front of me, just beyond the tip of my ton
gue.

  Everything I’ve learned so far feels like it’s been dropped into a blender and whipped into a frenzy. So I take a moment to put everything in order, like a mental shopping list—from the animal crackers box and the head of lettuce to the scribbled note and the other museum directors visiting today. I scan my third eye up and down my imaginary list, waiting for something to jump out at me and sock me in the recently fried eye.

  It’s as if I’m in a trance. In fact, I may be drooling, but I can’t be sure.

  A dozen puzzle pieces that have been swirling around in my head suddenly start to arrange themselves, like ducks in a row. Then they start clicking in a line, like dominoes falling one after the next. It’s a feeling that’s hard to describe—sort of like a rose blossoming between your ears or the surprise of stepping in fresh dog poop in your bare feet.

  “I’ve done it again,” I say quietly to myself.

  Pulling solutions to baffling mysteries out of thin air is my specialty, but I surprise even myself sometimes.

  While Hailey is distracted by the golden coffin, I pull out the cell phone, snap it open, and hit the telephone number that I hope will save Mr. Klopper and my fourth case as a private detective from ruin.

  It may be a long shot, but it’s the only shot we’ve got.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dead Man Walking

  I may have solved the mystery, but it might be too late.

  I’m not so sure I can still get everything to fall into place in time to save Mr. Klopper from disaster.

  I spend several tense minutes pacing around, mumbling to myself. I work out a complicated plan in my head that involves a small fire, a large box of cupcakes, and a dancing goat. But will it work?

  Hailey is saying something to me, but I can’t hear her. I’m so lost in my own thoughts, I haven’t even had a chance to tell her what’s happened.

  Before I can even open my mouth, Hailey pulls the torch from my hand and rolls it in the sand, extinguishing the only light in the tomb. I once again have the wool pulled over my eyes!

  “Why did you—” I begin to hiss, but Hailey pushes my chin around so I can see a pair of mummy’s legs coming down the stairs.

  They say seeing is believing, but I think my eyes are lying! “How could—”

  Hailey pulls me behind the golden coffin. Has the headless mummy somehow come to life? Is it hunting us? Can it still eat us if its stomach was dropped into a jar a few thousand years ago?

  I peer over the top of the coffin and clearly make out the mummy’s feet and knees in what appears to be light from a torch. The mummy seems to be hesitating. Maybe negotiating stairs without your head is trickier than any of us can imagine!

  I hold my breath as the rest of the mummy emerges from the stairwell. With a wave of relief, I see that this mummy has a head!

  And it’s wearing glasses?

  What the…? I consider asking Hailey if the Egyptians invented corrective eyewear, but then I see some of the stuffing spilling out of the mummy’s chest. Disgusting!

  “Sherlock Sherlock?” the mummy calls out, holding up its torch.

  That’s not stuffing! It’s beard! Why in the name of Anubis is Mr. Klopper dressed as a mummy?

  Mr. Klopper seems to notice our confusion. “The people serving drinks to the arriving guests upstairs are wearing this costume,” he explains. “It’s a museum tradition. So I just borrowed this as a disguise.”

  “That’s the worst disguise I’ve ever seen,” Hailey says. “You’re wearing big nerd glasses and you’ve got beard poking out all over the place.”

  “And I think it’s giving me a horrible rash,” Mr. Klopper says in agreement, moaning slightly as he scratches his thigh. “We’re almost out of time.”

  “I’ve solved the mystery,” I announce abruptly.

  “YOU HAVE?” they both cry out in surprise. The sound echoes off the chamber walls.

  “Quiet,” I shush them as I start up the stairs. Mr. Klopper’s unexpected arrival has convinced me to throw out my previous plan. Besides, I’m not sure I can get my hands on a large box of cupcakes, anyway. In its place, I have instantly cooked up an even better, but riskier, plan.

  “But how—” Hailey begins.

  “No time for questions! Follow me! We haven’t a moment to lose!”

  I almost sound like The Great Detective himself, except for the squeeze of fear you can hear in my throat.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Of Mice and Men

  My dad always says that things aren’t over till the fat lady sings.

  I have no idea what that means.

  But I’m about ready for a big lady to take the stage and get the show started.

  The next several minutes are a blur of hallways, stairways, and wrong ways. I’m reminded of laboratory mice running around in a maze. Or should I say three blind mice? Because not only do I not know where I’m going, I’m determined to get there fast. Add in the fact that we’re being followed by a mob led by Benito the snarling security guard, and you have a recipe for disaster.

  I have to keep stopping to wait for Hailey and Mr. Klopper, who’s leaving a trail of mummy wrappings behind him that would make Hansel and Gretel proud.

  Finally, I turn into the hallway with the locking broom closet and crash through the emergency exit.

  I’m startled by how dark it’s gotten. Heavy traffic continues to roar past. I see the animal crackers box that Mr. Klopper left out here and hand it to him just as he comes wheezing through the door.

  “But Sherlock Sherlock,” he gasps, looking at the box like it’s a hot potato that he’d rather not handle again. “I thought you wanted me to hide this from Benito.”

  “Now I want you to take it inside and say you’ve saved the museum from a terrible embarrassment,” I say, grabbing the door before it closes again.

  “I don’t—”

  “The mummy’s head is in the box!” I practically scream, motioning him toward the door. “Now, go in there and tell them that you’ve saved the day. You’ve found the head that they haven’t even realized has been stolen yet. I’m sure you can do that.”

  Mr. Klopper looks as though he’s seen a ghost. He slowly opens the box and looks inside. He blinks several times. “How did you…”

  “It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” I say, pushing Mr. Klopper back through the door.

  As if she can’t believe what she’s hearing, Hailey stops Mr. Klopper and looks inside. “Gross,” she says quietly.

  I gently push her aside. And shut the door on Mr. Klopper.

  “Can you hear that?” I ask Hailey.

  “What?” she asks.

  “That’s the sound of the fat lady singing.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Big Reveal

  “Okay, what just happened?” Hailey asks, standing in front of me with her fists on her hips.

  “A magician never reveals his secrets,” I say with a laugh. This whole ordeal was worth it just to see her so confused and mixed up.

  Not long after the door closed behind Mr. Klopper, I used my mom’s cell phone to call our house. She’s on her way to pick us up. I told her to hurry. So now I’m watching the oncoming traffic to flag her down when she approaches.

  “Oh, yeah?” Hailey says, giving me a look that only a little sister can. “How about if I call Sharon Sheldon and tell her you love her? Or should I tell Irene Adler that you want to be her boyfriend? Or maybe I should tell Mom you murdered Doreen with your big, fat butt?”

  “Take it easy!” I wail. “Don’t go wacko on me.”

  “All’s fair in love and war,” she says.

  “It’s simple, really,”

  I say. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.

  “Look, the lettuce and the note were always the things that didn’t fit.”

  “Yes, that was weird,” Hailey agrees.

  “And the little note had ‘butt’ written on it.”

  “Yeah, so?”

&nbs
p; “Well, it occurred to me that b-u-t-t is the beginning of ‘butter.’ As in butter lettuce. As in the thing Mr. Klopper found in the box.”

  “And so?” Hailey asks, shaking her head.

  “And so, the note was probably cut out of a packet of butter lettuce seeds,” I tell her.

  “Keep talking,” she says, waving her hands impatiently.

  “When we were at the Kloppers’ house, Mrs. Klopper asked you to have tea in the garden while I went down into the basement. I pictured a garden with flowers and fountains, but it was actually a vegetable garden, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was,” she says. “But are you saying Mr. Klopper stole his own head?”

  “No, Mrs. Klopper did!” I say. Hailey remains silent, thinking. “She was mad at him for forgetting about their anniversary. So she took the head as a prank, a trick. That’s why the note made no sense. She probably just copied a few symbols out of one of his books.”

  “Would she really do that?” Hailey asks, shocked at the thought.

  “She told me she did it!” I say. “I called her when we were down in the tomb. She didn’t know the head was going to be needed for tonight’s party. Remember, she doesn’t like to hear about his museum work anymore. She was just doing it to get back at him. To teach him a lesson. A simple joke gone horribly wrong. She felt terrible that he was in danger of losing his job or getting arrested. So I asked her to drive it over here and put it in the animal crackers box outside the back door.”

  “That’s something,” Hailey whispers.

  We both step back as Mom honks and pulls the car to the curb in front of us.

  “Did you pee your pants, Sherlock? I’m so sorry, sweetie. I got here as fast as I could!”

  “Mom, he’s got serious bladder issues,” Hailey says through the window.