The Case of the Exploding Plumbing (2 page)

“I wonder about him,” said Mrs. Brown. “Why did he ask to see Mr. Hunt’s money that very first day? I don’t think that was nice. He should have trusted Mr. Hunt.”

“Mr. Xippas says he didn’t ask to see the money,” answered Chief Brown. “He says Mr. Hunt never went to the bank. Furthermore, the only reason he stayed so long with the Hunts was that every day Mr. Hunt promised to pay him the following day.”

Chief Brown closed his notebook.

“I should add,” he said, “that Mr. Xippas denies that he refused the money on Friday the thirteenth because it was bad luck. He says the only thing Mr. Hunt gave him were promises to pay.”

“What about the bank?” said Mrs. Brown. “Don’t banks keep records?”

“A hurricane struck later that year,” said Chief Brown. “It flooded the Oceanside Bank, Mr. Hunt’s home, and most of the buildings in Idaville. All the records were destroyed.”

“I still don’t understand something,” said Mrs. Brown. “Mr. Xippas worked in the circus. How could he take nearly two weeks off to stay with the Hunts?”

“Mr. Xippas told me that he had become tired of circus life,” said Chief Brown. “By selling Jimbo, he could quit and open his own business.”

“Whom to believe?” sighed Mrs. Brown.

She had risen to clear the dishes and bring in the dessert. She glanced at Encyclopedia with concern. He always solved a case before dessert. Was this case too hard?

The boy detective closed his eyes. He always closed his eyes when he did his deepest thinking.

Suddenly his eyes opened. “Dad,” he said. “Both men have memories like an elephant. But the one who is lying is Mr.—”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

During the summer, Encyclopedia ran a detective agency in his garage. He wanted to help the children of the neighborhood.

Every morning he hung out his sign.

Thursday morning he received a telephone call from Max Corrigan. Max was ten and needed help.

Encyclopedia biked to the corner of Maple and Main streets, where Max sat glumly behind a tableful of books. Above him was a beach umbrella on which was written: “All Kinds of Information—5¢ to 15¢.”

“I’m quitting this corner,” announced Max. “It’s too dangerous.”

Just then a car pulled up. A man got out. “How do I get to Tigertail Drive?” he asked.

Max opened a map and pointed to the street.

“That will be five cents,” he said. “Have you got any more questions, mister?”

“I’ve always wanted to know where the latissimus dorsi is,” the man said very seriously.

Max searched through his books—cookbooks, almanacs, a handbook of chemistry, Roget’s
Thesaurus,
and finally an old copy of Gray’s
Anatomy.

“It’s this muscle,” he said, pointing to a picture.

The man smiled and gave him a quarter. As he drove off, Encyclopedia urged Max not to move his business.

“Half your trade is in finding streets for lost drivers,” said the boy detective. “This is the best spot for miles.”

“Then I’ll sell the business to you,” said Max. “The knowledge in these books is priceless. But for you, Encyclopedia ... three dollars.”

Suddenly Max lifted his hand to his head in shock at his own words. “Three dollars? Such a deal! I don’t believe it myself,” he gasped.

“I already have a business,” Encyclopedia reminded him. “Now what’s so dangerous about this corner?”

“Worn-out sayings,” answered Max. “You’ll understand. You’re bright as a button, not to mention smart as a whip.”

“Huh?”

Max explained. His Uncle Bob had sent him a newspaper from Alaska. The newspaper was holding a contest to see what reader could enter the most worn-out sayings, like “flat as a pancake” and “high as a kite.”

“I cut the story about the contest from page thirty-one,” said Max. “I wrote
‘Alaska Times,
page 31’ on it in block print. Then I read the rest of the newspaper.”

“I’m missing the point,” said Encyclopedia.

“There’s more,” said Max. “I laid the clipping about the contest on this table. I was reading the last page of the newspaper when Bugs Meany came by.”

“Bugs! I might have known he was mixed up in this,” said Encyclopedia.

Bugs was the leader of a gang of tough older boys called the Tigers. Encyclopedia was kept busy stopping their crooked doings.

Only last week Bugs had filled a glass bowl with water and hung a sign on it: “Invisible Fish. Two Dollars a Pair.” Little kids watched for air bubbles and shouted, “There’s one!”

Encyclopedia said, “Bugs stole the clipping about the contest?”

“And the newspaper,” said Max. “I want to hire you to get back the clipping. Without it, I don’t know where to send my list of worn-out sayings.”

“Okay,” agreed Encyclopedia. “We’ll go and see Bugs.”

“Not me,” said Max. “Bugs is tough as nails, and I’ve got a thing about living.”

“Be brave as a lion and cool as a cucumber,” said Encyclopedia. “I’ve handled Bugs before.”

The Tigers’ clubhouse was an unused tool shed behind Mr. Sweeny’s Auto Body Shop. Bugs was alone when the two boys arrived.

The newspaper story about the contest was tacked to a wall. Encyclopedia wished Max had not used block printing to write the page and name of the newspaper on it. All block printing looked alike.

“You stole my clipping!” accused Max. “There it is on the wall, as big as life! ”

“Stole?” Bugs hollered at Max. “You’re crazy as a bedbug. ”I
bought
the newspaper from you.”

Bugs spread his hands as though asking to be judged from above. “I’ve lived all my life clean as a whistle and good as gold.”

“And you never paid for anything you could steal,” said Encyclopedia. “You’re tight as a drum and crooked as a dog’s hind leg. What would you want with a newspaper from Alaska anyway?”

“I didn’t know it was from Alaska until after I bought it,” said Bugs. “I saw this kid reading the last page with the story of the contest on it. I wanted the story. I cut it out, marked the page, and tacked it on the wall. Us Tigers are going to win five hundred dollars!”

“I’d be interested in knowing how,” snapped Max. “You’re dumb as an ox.”

“Is that so?” growled Bugs. “When I hit you, you’ll lose interest all the way down to the floor.”

“Me and my big mouth,” Max muttered. “I’m leaving, quiet as a mouse and quick as lightning.”

“You’re not going anyplace till we get what we came for,” said Encyclopedia.

The boy detective turned to Bugs. “You stole Max’s newspaper and clipping,” he said. “And that is clear as day!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bugs Meany had one dream in life. It was to get even with Encyclopedia.

Bugs hated being outsmarted all the time. He dreamed of punching Encyclopedia in the mouth so hard that his eyes would be looking for his teeth.

But Bugs never threw a punch. Whenever he felt like it, he remembered Encyclopedia’s junior partner, Sally Kimball.

Sally was not merely the prettiest girl in the fifth grade. She had done what no boy under twelve had thought was possible.

She had knocked Bugs Meany goofy.

Whenever they fought, Bugs ended on the ground, mumbling about the price of yo-yos in China.

Because of Sally, Bugs had quit bullying the boy detective. He never stopped trying to get revenge, however.

“I don’t know whom Bugs hates more, you or me,” Encyclopedia told Sally. “He’ll never live down the lickings you gave him.”

Before Sally could answer, Gus Sarmiento rushed into the detective agency. His mouth was open wide enough to swallow a watermelon sideways.

Gus was Idaville’s leading boy cello player. Actually, he had first started learning to play the violin. Because of his flat feet, he had switched to the cello. The violin was smaller, but the cello was played sitting down.

“I—I saw it!” he wailed at the detectives. “The Skunk Ape! It reached into my bedroom window!”

The Skunk Ape was Idaville’s Abominable Snowman—a creature supposedly half man and half ape.

“I don’t believe in Skunk Apes,” said Sally. “Did you smell it?”

“I smelled the carpet,” answered Gus. “I was so scared I fell on my face.” He let out a moan at the memory.

“A hairy arm reached in and grabbed my empty cello case,” he said.

“Ha! ” said Sally. “A musical Skunk Ape. This I want to see.”

Encyclopedia wished Sally weren’t always so brave. But he dared not show a yellow streak. He followed her and Gus to Gus’s house.

“I was practicing on the cello when I saw the arm,” said Gus. “I always practice ... between ... two and three o’clock....”

His voice trailed off. He had halted outside his bedroom window. In a spot of soft earth was a huge footprint.

Encyclopedia’s scalp twitched. “This is my most hair-raising experience since I pulled off my turtleneck sweater,” he joked weakly.

“I smell a rat, not a Skunk Ape,” said Sally. “Doesn’t Wilma Hutton live near here?”

“Three houses down the block,” answered Gus.

“She’s Bugs Meany’s cousin,” said Sally. “And she plays the cello!”

Without another word, the three children headed for Wilma’s house.

“Look!” said Gus, pointing. A cello case lay among some trees at the side of the garage.