by Byars, Betsy
Herculeah glanced at her mom’s profile. Sometimes her mom really looked like a private detective.
“If you’d tell me things, then I wouldn’t have to poke my nose in, as you put it. Well, can I ask you one thing?”
“You can ask.”
“You were hired to find the sister, right? And you had located her when all this happened?”
“I had located her address. The lawyer was going to contact her.”
“Why did they need the sister? They kicked her out a long time ago. For the mushrooms.”
“Mushrooms?”
“The poison ones. It’s a long story, Mom.”
“They did kick her out, but they need her now. They want to sell the house—there’s going to be a mall there—and they can’t sell without consent of all parties. The sister is one of the parties.”
“So what’s going to happen to the nurses?”
“There’s only one real nurse.”
“I know that.”
Her mother sighed. “Your dad thinks that neither of them has injuries that are life-threatening, although the man who impersonated a nurse is going to face serious charges—attempted murder for one. And it was all for nothing.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He came to Hunt House thinking there was money hidden in the house, when the only thing of value is the property itself. He and his mother would have gotten a third of that.”
Herculeah glanced out the window to see if she could get a final glimpse of Hunt House. Only the tip of the tower rose above the trees. “I guess I’ll never come back to Hunt House.”
“Why would you want to?”
“The book, Mom! To finish the book. I know what I found at the top of the tower, but I don’t know what the girl in the book found.”
“Maybe I can get the book for you, but if you go to the hospital to read to Mr. Hunt, I suggest you take another book.”
“Of course, Mom.”
Meat spoke from the backseat. “Tell your mom what your dad said about the end of the book.”
Herculeah glanced around as if surprised to see him there. It had been so long since anyone noticed him that he was surprised to find himself there. “I was just getting ready to,” she said.
She turned back to her mom. “I was puzzled about why Mr. Hunt chose the book. I mean, maybe he read it as a child, or maybe he wanted me to see the clipping, or maybe he sensed danger in the tower. I said I was mainly curious about the end of the book and what was up in the tower, and he said, ‘Oh, I can tell you what was at the top of the tower if that’s all you want to know—Batman.’”
Herculeah laughed. “I thought he meant like Batman and Robin, but he meant ‘Batman’ like Dracula. He admitted he hadn’t read the book, of course, but he claimed to have seen the movie. It was very funny. I wish I could imitate him so—”
“Don’t bother.”
There was silence, broken only by an uneasy cough from the backseat. Meat felt that the front seat could take a lesson from him. When you were about to say something wrong, cough.
Herculeah’s mom didn’t believe in coughs. She said, “Your dad picked an inappropriate time to be amusing.”
“Mom, you don’t understand Dad at all!”
“Oh?”
“It was the perfect time. I was upset and it helped me. At least he didn’t say I was worse than an infant. You know what he said?”
“No.”
“He said that whatever the girl in the book found in the tower, she couldn’t possibly have handled it any better than I did.”
In the backseat, Meat waited for Mrs. Jones’s reply, but apparently she had used up all of her one-word sentences. They drove the rest of the way home in a blessed silence.
30
A MIDNIGHT CALLER
The phone rang and Herculeah picked it up on the first ring. She said, “Hi, Meat.”
“How did you know it was me? Has your mom gotten caller ID?”
“I don’t need caller ID to know when it’s you. And,” she went on, “you always call when we’ve solved a case.”
“I didn’t do much to solve this one.”
“Yes, you did. You recognized right away that Nurse Wegman was a man. And I didn’t pick up on that at all. I was an idiot. I thought she was just an unattractive woman. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve to be a detective.”
“Oh, yes, you do. You manage to get people to confess things, like Lionus Hunt telling you all about his mother killing her twin sister, about his plans to get into Hunt House in the disguise of a nurse. He would have thought it was a waste of time to tell me stuff like that. He would have just killed me.”
“If I’ve learned one thing about criminals, it’s that they think they’re so clever, they want to talk about how they did it.”
There was a silence, and then Herculeah said, “You know what I was thinking about when you called?”
“What?”
“I was thinking about the connection between this case and the labors of the real Hercules.”
“It had to be the Nemean lion. Remember Hercules killed him? There were wrought-iron lions on the gate? Did you notice them? And the old man’s name was Lionus.”
“Yes, I noticed the lions. I saw them the first day I went to read.”
“Did your hair frizzle?”
“No, but I got a this-is-it feeling. When I get that feeling—it’s hard to describe. I just know ...” She took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I just know ...”
“This is it,” Meat supplied.
“Exactly!” She hesitated. “Why are you laughing at my feeling?”
“I’m not laughing at that. I just thought of another Hercules connection.”
“What?”
“Remember the girdle of Hippo-something? I forget what her name was.”
“Hippolyte. But I don’t get what that’s got to do with it.”
“The girdle. The imposter Nurse Wegman wore one to help him look like a woman. I saw it when they were putting him in the ambulance.”
Herculeah laughed, too.
Meat waited and then got to the real reason he had called. “You haven’t asked me about the phone call from my dad.”
“Meat! I’m sorry! I can’t believe I forgot. How was the phone call from your dad?”
“It was great. He’s going to be here next weekend.”
“I hope I get to see him. I only saw him that one night, and he was dressed like Macho Man.”
“He even looks like Macho Man in his everyday clothes, too.”
“So what are you and your dad going to do? Anything special?”
Meat hesitated, trying to decide whether to say, “Oh, nothing special, just hang out,” or tell the truth. He decided on the truth. “My dad has this friend who runs a health club here. My dad trained there when he was getting started. He’s getting me a membership, and I’m going there every weekend.”
“Lucky! I wish my dad would get me a membership. What’s the name of it?”
“I forgot,” he said. Meat didn’t want to seem unfriendly, but he did hope that he and Herculeah would not be in training together. This was something between two Macho Men.
To change the subject he said, “Have you got any idea yet about what your next mystery will be?”
“I not only have an idea, I know.”
“How?”
“Well, when I was searching Ida Wegman’s coat, I reached in the pocket and pulled out a lipstick. It was Summer Rose or something like that. And I knew it wasn’t the fake Nurse Wegman’s lipstick because she’d wear something like Dragon-Lady Red. And as soon as I thought, Dragon, I knew that would be part of my next case.”
“One of those this-is-it feelings?”
“Yes.”
Meat said, “Dragon ... dragon.... There are no live dragons, of course. Maybe this has something to do with that Chinese martial arts place or that Chinese restaurant on Peachtree. Both of them have dragons in their windows.”
“No. This will not be a dragon advertisement. This will be a dragon.”
She yawned. Meat always dreaded that sound because it meant the conversation was over. He tried to think of some way to keep it going, but before he could, she spoke again.
“I’ve got to go. It’s been a long day. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Meat.”
There were only three words left to say, so he said them.
“Good night, Herculeah.”
