by Ron Roy
“Standing in the corner, right where it’s always been,” the man said, turning to look into the room.
Except that the duck bank wasn’t standing in the corner.
The duck bank wasn’t anywhere in the room.
“I can’t believe it!” the man said. “That bank was here last night. I know because I put money in it!”
“Would anyone have moved it to a different spot in the firehouse?” Officer Fallon asked.
The man shook his head. “We kept it here in the TV lounge so everyone would be reminded to drop coins in. Plus, the thing weighs a ton!”
Officer Fallon handed Josh his jar of coins and took out a notebook. “Did you put out that meadow fire last night?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “Nope, that would’ve been Jake and Lenny.”
Officer Fallon wrote in his notebook. “Where would I find them?”
The firefighter smiled. “Still snoozing in the other room,” he said. “They should be getting up any time now.”
“Have them give me a call after they’re awake,” Officer Fallon said, slipping his notebook into a pocket.
“No problem,” the man answered.
Officer Fallon and the kids walked outside. Pal lay next to the cruiser with his head on his big front paws.
“I just thought of something,” Dink said. “Maybe whoever lit that fire last night did it to get the men out of the firehouse.”
“I had the same thought,” Officer Fallon said. “The fire could have been a diversion.”
“Yeah!” Josh said. “So they could sneak in here when no one was around and steal the bank!”
“Who would do such a lousy thing?” Ruth Rose said.
“Someone who loves money and hates ducks!” Josh said.
“Could it have been the car I saw last night?” Dink said. “I saw those headlights right before the fire.”
“Very possibly” Officer Fallon said.
An elderly man walked past with a dog on a leash. The man was tall and thin. The dog was short and round. They both had white hair. Pal whined and wagged his tail back and forth.
The man let his little dog waddle over to Pal. “Hello,” the man said. “This is Randolph. Is your basset friendly?”
Josh nodded. “Pal likes everyone!”
Pal sniffed the little dog, then licked his face. Randolph rolled over and wiggled his whole body.
“Any trouble here?” the man asked, looking curiously at Officer Fallon.
“Just investigating a possible theft,” Officer Fallon said.
The man raised his bushy white eyebrows. “Would it have anything to do with that crazy driver I saw last night?” he asked.
Officer Fallon took out his notebook again and flipped it open. “Please tell me what you saw,” he said.
“A fire engine woke me some time after one o’clock,” the man said. “So I took Randolph outside for some fresh air. We were at the corner of Indian Way Road when a jeep came tearing past us up Main Street!” The man held his hands a foot apart. “Missed Randolph by that much!”
Officer Fallon began writing in his notebook. “You are Mr….?”
“Thaddeus Pocket,” the man said. “Number 10 Indian Way Road.”
“Were you able to read the jeep’s license plate, Mr. Pocket?”
“Mercy, no!” the man said. “It was speeding much too fast.”
“Did you happen to notice the driver?” Officer Fallon asked.
Mr. Pocket shook his head. “I’m sorry, my eyesight isn’t wonderful anymore. There were two men in the jeep, but I don’t remember the driver.”
Officer Fallon closed his notebook and began to put it away. “Thanks anyway, Mr. Pocket. You’ve been very helpful—”
“But I do remember the man sitting beside the driver,” Mr. Pocket went on.
“You do?” Officer Fallon opened his notebook again.
Mr. Pocket grinned. “Yes, but only because he was so odd-looking. The man in the passenger seat looked just like a giant duck!”
Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose exchanged glances.
Officer Fallon was still looking at Mr. Pocket. “The man looked like a duck? Can you explain, Mr. Pocket?”
Mr. Pocket smiled. “I noticed a shiny head and a duck’s beak. Now I realize the man must have had a shaved head and a large nose.”
Officer Fallon thanked Mr. Pocket and wrote down his phone number. The man and his dog continued their walk.
“That guy driving the jeep must have been the thief!” Josh blurted out. “The duck bank was in the passenger seat!”
“When Mr. Pocket saw the jeep, the driver had probably just stolen the bank and was making his getaway!” Ruth Rose added.
Officer Fallon walked over to his cruiser. “I’ll get word out to watch for a jeep carrying a duck,” he said.
“Would you mind holding on to our money?” Dink asked. He stepped over to the cruiser and handed Officer Fallon the cookie tin.
“And here’s yours back.” Josh returned Officer Fallon’s jar.
“Will do,” Officer Fallon said, setting both containers on the seat. “Don’t worry, we’ll get our duck bridge built yet.”
He climbed into the car and pulled away down Main Street.
“That crook could be anywhere by now,” Dink said. He started walking toward the corner of Main and River Road.
“It makes me so mad!” Ruth Rose said. “The town has been saving up for a year, and now we have to start all over again!”
The kids crossed River Road and sat in the grass above the riverbank. Pal woofed at a family of ducks feeding in the weeds. The ducks paddled quickly away toward the other side.
“Maybe Officer Fallon will find him,” Dink said.
“I don’t know how,” Josh said. “That jeep could be hundreds of miles away by now.”
“Well, we still have this,” Ruth Rose said, holding up the chunk of wood stamped with ET CO. “These letters must mean something!”
Josh picked up a stone and tossed it into the river. The kids watched the stone sink to the sandy bottom.
“Any ideas?” Dink asked.
“Yeah, let’s go to Ellie’s,” Josh said. “A milkshake always helps me think better.”
“Josh, we have to focus on finding that money,” Ruth Rose said. “Think of those baby ducks!”
“Okay, but we don’t have a plan,” Josh said.
Dink checked his watch. “Why don’t we see if the firemen who were on duty last night are up yet?” he suggested.
“Good idea,” Ruth Rose said. “Maybe they saw the jeep when they were coming back from the fire.”
With Pal leading, the kids walked back into the fire station. A tall man was wiping the rescue truck with a cloth. A mug of coffee rested on the truck’s hood.
“’Morning,” he said, yawning.
“Good morning,” Dink said. “Are you one of the night firemen?”
“Did you hear about the robbery?” Josh asked before the man could answer Dink’s question.
The man nodded. “My name’s Jake,” he said. “I’m really bummed that someone stole that duck money.”
He picked up his coffee and sat on the truck’s front bumper. “Lenny and I were gone, putting out a fire in the meadow. It turned out to be small, probably left burning by some campers.”
“Officer Fallon thinks the crooks set it,” Josh said.
“We figure they did it to get you to leave the firehouse,” Dink said. “I saw some headlights near where the fire was set last night.”
“And a man walking his dog saw a jeep speeding up Main Street,” Ruth Rose added. “He saw the duck bank in the jeep!”
Jake’s mouth fell open. “Really?”
“By any chance, did you pass a jeep on River Road?” Josh asked.
Jake shook his head. “Didn’t see any vehicles, going or coming back.”
“Did you see anyone hanging around here?” Ruth Rose asked.
Jake leaned down and gave Pal’s ears
a gentle rub. “Not last night, but a few days ago some guy was poking around in here. He used our bathroom, then left.”
“Did he see the duck bank?” Dink asked.
“Probably. The thing’s pretty hard to miss,” Jake said.
“Do you remember what he looked like?” Josh asked.
Jake shrugged. “Big guy, as tall as me but heavier,” he said. “Oh, and his ears really stuck out. Looked like he had two overgrown mushrooms glued to his head.”
The kids thanked Jake and left.
“That guy could have been the robber!” Ruth Rose said.
“I think so, too,” Dink said. “The thief would have to be big to carry that duck filled with coins.”
“Now can I get a milkshake?” Josh asked. “Please? I’m starving!”
“If you promise not to slurp and embarrass us,” Dink said.
With Pal tugging on his leash, they walked to Ellie’s Diner. They sat in a booth by the windows. Pal crawled under the table and rested his head on Josh’s feet.
“Hi, kids,” Ellie said. She brought Pal a bowl of water and patted him on the head.
Then she pulled out her pad. “What’ll it be? Our specials are slug stew and spider spaghetti.”
“Yum,” Ruth Rose said, “but Josh simply has to have a milkshake.” She pulled the ET CO wood from her back pocket and laid it on the table.
“What’s that?” asked Ellie.
“It’s a clue,” Ruth Rose said. “Did you hear about the duck bank? It got stolen last night!”
“Go on!” Ellie said. She sat next to Dink. “Tell me everything!”
The kids told Ellie about the fire, the speeding jeep, and what they’d learned from Jake at the firehouse.
“This came from the fire,” Ruth Rose said, touching the chunk of wood. “We’ve been trying to figure out what ET CO stands for.”
Ellie picked up the wood and examined the letters. Suddenly she smiled and handed it back to Ruth Rose. “Well, that part of the mystery I can solve. Come on out back,” she said.
“Stay,” Josh told Pal. Then the kids followed Ellie behind the counter, through the kitchen, and out the back door.
Ellie walked over to a small wooden platform lying on the ground. It was made of narrow boards that had been nailed across thicker ones.
“I’ve seen those before,” Josh said. “When my dad ordered a bunch of bricks, they came loaded on one of these things.”
“It’s called a pallet,” Ellie said.
“Look!” Ruth Rose said. She pointed to words stamped into the pallet boards: EASTERN PALLET COMPANY.
Ruth Rose held her partly burned piece of wood next to the words. The black printing was identical.
“Where do they make these things?” Dink asked.
“Beats me,” Ellie said. “This one came from the supermarket. I’m using the wood to build a fence around my garden.”
“Could anyone get one?” Ruth Rose asked.
Ellie shrugged. “I guess. I talked to the store manager, a guy named Derek Robb. So do you still want milkshakes?”
“Yes!” Josh said. He led the way back into the diner.
The kids gave Ellie their orders, then slid back into the booth.
Ruth Rose leaned toward Dink and Josh. “I’ll bet the crook used pallets from the supermarket to start the fire!” she said.
“If he did, maybe Derek Robb remembers him!” Dink said.
“So let’s go ask,” Ruth Rose suggested.
“Can we please drink our milkshakes first?” Josh asked.
After the kids had finished their milkshakes, they left Ellie’s and walked back up Main Street to Green Lawn’s supermarket.
Josh tied Pal’s leash to a bike rack. “We’ll be right back,” he told his dog.
Inside, Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose walked through the fruit and vegetable section. Tall pyramids of oranges and apples gleamed under the lights.
They stood next to a mountain of watermelons and glanced around the store. A lot of people were shopping, and a lot of workers were scurrying about. All the store employees wore dark pants, green aprons, and white shirts.
Dink walked over to a woman with curly brown hair. She was arranging bags of grapes into a display. A name tag pinned to her apron said HI! I’M JUDY.
Dink asked her where the manager’s office was.
“Go to the rear of the store,” Judy said, pointing. “It’s the red door just left of the meat department.”
The kids followed her directions, and Dink knocked on the door.
“Come in!” a voice boomed.
Ruth Rose opened the door and the kids walked in. The office was cluttered with filing cabinets, boxes of damaged canned goods, and a wooden desk covered with papers.
Behind the desk sat a smiling man in a shirt and tie. DEREK ROBB was printed on a nameplate on his desk.
“Hi there,” the man said. “How can I help you kids?”
“Someone set a fire in the meadow behind my barn last night,” Josh said. “We think whoever set it used pallets from this store.”
Ruth Rose showed Mr. Robb the chunk of burned wood.
Mr. Robb examined the letters ET CO. “Yep, looks the same,” he said. “A lot of our merchandise comes stacked on these things.”
“Did you give any pallets to a tall man a couple of days ago?” Dink asked.
Mr. Robb smiled. “People who want pallets usually just take them,” he said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Mr. Robb led the kids out of his office. They passed a long wall covered with framed photographs of employees. Dink recognized Judy, the woman who’d given him directions.
“Right through here,” Mr. Robb said, pushing through a wide pair of swinging doors. “Watch out for the forklifts!”
The kids found themselves in a giant room filled with workers, boxes, and noise. Men and women were unpacking crates and loading stuff on carts.
“Look,” Josh said. A yellow forklift stopped near a bunch of boxes stacked on a pallet. The driver pulled a lever, and the forklift’s two arms lowered. The truck moved forward, and the arms slid under the pallet. The driver moved the lever again, and the arms raised the pallet of boxes off the floor.
Suddenly the forklift began to back up, beeping. The kids and Mr. Robb stepped back as the forklift carried the pallet to the other end of the room.
“Cool!” Josh said. “I wish I had one of those things.”
Mr. Robb chuckled. “They’re pretty expensive, kiddo. Now follow me.” He led the kids to a tall, wide opening like a garage door.
“If you go down those steps,” Mr. Robb said, pointing, “you’ll see a stack of pallets on the ground. Folks stop by and take them all the time. They break ’em up for firewood, whatever.”
“So anyone could just come and take one,” Dink said, “at any time?”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Robb. “Even in the middle of the night.”
“Well, at least we know where the thief got the wood for the fire,” Ruth Rose said.
The kids were outside again, standing between the supermarket and the fire station.
“So where did the guy take the duck bank in his jeep?” Josh asked. “Mr. Pocket said he was on Main Street, but we don’t know which direction he was going.”
“Yes, we do,” Ruth Rose said.
Josh looked at her. “Ruth Rose, the guy could have been heading north or south.”
Ruth Rose shook her head. “He couldn’t have been heading south,” she said. “Mr. Pocket told us the jeep passed him on the corner of Indian Way Road. If it was coming from the fire station, the jeep had to be going north.”
“She’s right,” Dink said. “And north is toward River Road.”
Josh looked in that direction. “So when he got to River Road, he either turned right toward Blue Hills, or left toward Hartford.”
“Let’s go talk to Mr. Pocket,” Ruth Rose suggested. “He might remember which way the jeep turned.”
“Where do we find
him?” Dink asked.
“He lives at number 10 Indian Way Road,” Ruth Rose said.
Josh laughed and shook his head. “How can you remember stuff like that?” he asked.
Ruth Rose just smiled.
The kids collected Pal from the bike rack, and then they cut behind the fire station to Indian Way Road.
Number 10 was a small gray-shingled house behind a white fence. Rosebushes filled the yard and drooped over the fence. A stone path led from the gate to the porch, where Mr. Pocket was sitting in a rocking chair. Randolph was on his lap.
“Well, hello again,” the elderly man called out.
“Hi,” Dink said, standing at the gate. “We had some questions about the jeep you saw last night. Could we talk to you?”
“Of course,” Mr. Pocket said. “Come on in! Mind the roses—those thorns love arms and legs!”
Dink opened the gate and the kids stepped through.
“Would you mind closing it behind you?” Mr. Pocket called. “Randolph thinks he can go exploring without me!”
Ruth Rose smiled at Mr. Pocket. She pulled the gate shut and made sure the latch snapped into place.
The kids walked carefully past the rosebushes and joined Mr. Pocket on his porch. Pal looked up at Randolph and wagged his tail.
“Okay Randolph, you can visit your friend,” Mr. Pocket said. He set his dog on the porch near Pal.
Then he stood and removed a bunch of newspapers from a long bench. “Please sit,” he told the kids.
The kids lined up on the bench and Mr. Pocket dropped back into his chair.
A pair of eyeglasses lay on a low table next to the chair. Mr. Pocket put on his glasses and smiled at the kids. “Now, please tell me what’s going on,” he said. “Why all the interest in this jeep?”
The kids told Mr. Pocket about the money being collected, the fire, and the theft of the duck bank.
“That wasn’t a passenger you saw in the seat next to the driver,” Dink said. “It was the duck bank.”
“Well, I’ll be pickled!” Mr. Pocket said. “I remember thinking it was strange how the moon reflected off his face. And all the time, it was a plastic duck!”
