Hiss Me Deadly (7 page)

"That's just a cover-up," I said. "Check the other drawers."

"No!" said Mr. Mauler.

The principal opened a side drawer. This one
contained a woman's scarf, diamond earrings, and Miss Flemm's tiara.

"See? I told you," I said.

Mr. Zero eyed the music teacher, who had turned squirmier than a cupful of earthworms on a full-moon night. "Well?" said the principal. "Care to explain?"

"Dugenzaluff," the lynx muttered, shifting from foot to foot.

"How's that?" asked Mr. Zero.

Mr. Mauler cleared his throat. "Uh, tokens of, er, love," he said at last.

"Love?" I said. "You call
stealing
love?"

The music teacher hung his head. "I have big crushes on several lady teachers," he said. "I—I admit, I sneaked into de rooms and left a rose..."

"And?" said Principal Zero.

"And I took from dem a little token, something to remind me of deir beauty."

Eew.
Gross.

I lifted my chin. "So why did you take the computers and pearls and watch? Did you have crushes on their owners, too?"

Mr. Mauler frowned. "Computers? Vatch? Pearls? I did not take dese."

I pawed through his desk, but couldn't find any other missing items. "But you confessed," I said. "You're
guilty.
"

"
Ja,
" said Gustav Mauler. "Guilty of love in de first degree." He put out his wrists together. "Lock me up and throw away de key."

Mr. Zero rose and took the music teacher by the shoulder. "This isn't a soap opera, it's a school. And I think your union will want to hear all about your ... shenanigans."

He led the subdued lynx from the room. I followed. Mr. Zero gave me a look that was as hard to read as test answers on a sweaty palm. (Not that I'd know anything about
that.
)

"Your job's not over, Gecko," said the big cat. "Back to class."

As I watched them leg it down the hall, I stood, flat-footed. My brain spun like a spider in a blender. So there were
two
thieves, not one.

And if Gustav Mauler hadn't swiped my mom's pearls and the other goods, who had?

After school, Natalie and I regrouped. As happy kids headed home, gabbing about tomorrow's fair, we sat by the flagpole and swapped stories. Fortunately, hers had a happier ending.

"I found Luz Lipps hiding in a pine at the edge of the playground," she said.

"Sneaky squirrel."

Natalie nodded. "But not sneaky enough. When she left, I trailed her to a big oak tree just off school property. She bent down to its roots..."

"And?"

She shrugged. "The school bell rang, and I had to get back to class."

I shook my head. "What kind of detective are you?"

"The kind that gets good grades," she said. "You should try it sometime."

"What, and give Mr. Zero a heart attack?" I rose. "Come on, partner."

"Where are we going?" asked Natalie.

"Straight to the root of the crime."

Five minutes later, we found ourselves at the foot of a huge, gnarled oak tree. Its twisted limbs cast a dark shade that was heavier than a cheater's conscience.

A creepy feeling brushed across my shoulders, almost as if we were being watched. I searched the branches. "This is it?" I asked.

"Yup," said Natalie, pointing a wing feather. "She was standing right there."

I crunched across the fallen leaves and squatted. Nothing but twigs and beetles. I shot out my tongue and slurped up one of the hard-shelled bugs.

Mmm.
After-school snack.

I rapped on the trunk. "Solid as an oak," I said. "No hidden compartments."

Natalie craned her neck and surveyed the branches. "Nothing up there."

Together we circled the great tree, looking high and low. No luck. We came up as empty as a fish-cake plate at the end of a piranha's birthday party.

I scratched my head. "There's got to be
something
," I said. "Why did that squirrel come here?"

"To hunt for acorns?" said Natalie with a grin.

"Aw, nuts," I said.

As we left, I still couldn't shake that feeling of being observed. Twice I whirled to catch the watcher, but the scene remained as empty as a beach in a blizzard.

With nothing else to do, I did the unthinkable. I went home and started Ms. Dwyer's double helping of homework.

The afternoon passed in groans and gnashings of teeth. This Dwyer dame was seriously cramping my style. To top it off, I had about as much luck with the homework as I was having with my case.

All through dinner, Pinky shot pleading glances at me.
What about the necklace?
was the question I read in her eyes.

Each time, I lifted my shoulder in a shrug.

I was mopping up the mashed mantis balls in gravy when Mom dropped the bomb.

"Kids," she said, "I was going through my jewelry box today."

Ulp.

"Really?" I said with a poker face.

Pinky's eyes grew as big as soup bowls.

Mom chewed her food. "I wanted to wear something nice for tomorrow night's party, but I couldn't
find my pearls." She peered over her glasses at Pinky and me. "Have either of you seen them?"

Pinky bit her lip. Her chin trembled.

I don't know what possessed me then.

"Uh, yeah," I said. "I was playing, and I got, uh, ink on 'em. So I took the pearls in to have them cleaned."

(Yeah, I realize I said earlier that Mama Gecko didn't raise no liars. So sue me.)

While Mom's lecture broke over me like Hurricane Mary on a toy boat, my sister gazed at me like I was the guy who invented chocolate. At last the
tongue-lashing stopped. I promised to return the necklace by the next night, and we cleared the dishes.

Pinky sidled up to me in the kitchen. "Thank you, Chet. Thank you
this
much." She spread her arms as wide as they would go.

I looked down at her. "If you try to hug me with those," I said, "you are
so
dead, sister."

"You're the best, big brother."

I watched her go. Even my death threats weren't scary anymore. With less than twenty-four hours to find the pearls and solve the investigation, I hoped I wasn't losing my touch.

Because if I was, my tail would get much more than just a touch from Mom and Mr. Zero.

The next day passed in fast motion, like a grasshopper on a hot griddle. Lessons whipped by in a blur. (Of course, they were a little blurry even when I
wasn't
up against the wall on a big case.)

Ms. Dwyer's scolding over my lame homework seemed to last only a few painful seconds.

I blinked, and it was lunchtime. I blinked again, and it was late recess.

Part of the playground had been blocked off. Workers were setting up the booths and rides. The fair would start in just a few hours, and I had no idea who the real thief was.

Still, Natalie and I kept on plugging. We nosed around for shady serpents, but Percy the rattlesnake
was a no-show. We hunted for Luz, but she was tougher to find than the softer side of a sixth-grade bully.

We even trailed Johnny Ringo. But that only earned us another vigorous chase from his pet goon.

Time was running out.

Finally, just before the end of second recess, our persistence paid off. Down the hall that led to the portable classrooms, we spotted that runaway squirrel, Luz Lipps.

I pulled Natalie back. "You keep her busy," I said.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Slip around and cut off her escape."

As I reversed direction, Natalie advanced on Luz, saying, "Are you the hall monitor?"

"Well, I ain't Turkey Lurkey," said the squirrel. The rest of her comment was lost as I circled the building.

Stepping on the gas, I raced down the far side and rounded the corner. Up ahead, Natalie was holding the hall monitor's attention. Luz had her back to me.

I pussyfooted closer.

"But like, I
really
want to know," Natalie was saying in a voice like Malibu Barbie Repeats Third Grade. "Does a hall monitor also monitor the lawns
next to
the halls? And what about the corridors—do you guys do corridors, too?"

The flying squirrel held up her hands. "Cut the chatter!" she said. "I don't give two toots about your newspaper article. I gotta get back to work." And Luz pivoted on her heel—right into my hands.

"Gotcha!" I said, grabbing her shoulders and shoving her up against the wall. "You've been a very naughty squirrel, and now you're gonna sing."

She frowned. "But I don't like music."

I squeezed harder. "Not sing,
sing,
" I said. "You know—squeal, spill the beans, blow the whistle?"

Luz looked over at Natalie. "What language is he speaking?"

"Beats me," said Natalie. "But you'd better answer."

I shook the squirrel like a bad habit. "Things have been disappearing from this school, and you're in it up to your fuzzy neck. Start talking."

"Or what?" asked Luz, popping her gum. "You'll beat me up?"

"Huh?" I said. This wasn't working the way I'd expected.

"No matter what," said the squirrel, "you can't do anything worse to me than
he
can."

Natalie and I exchanged a glance. "
He
who?" I asked.

"He who laughs last thinks slowest?" said Natalie.

Luz just kept on chewing.

I rattled her until her gum flew through the air. "Tell us!"

The squirrel's eyes went wide. But her mouth stayed zipped. She kept her trap shut all the way up to Principal Zero's office.

He eyed Luz. "What is this?" said Mr. Zero. "Hall monitor business?"

"She's in on the caper," I said, "but she won't talk. We thought you might..."

The big cat raised an eyebrow. "Fire up the spanking machine?"

Luz turned an interesting shade of beige. Her tail drooped.

"That's the ticket," I said.

Principal Zero snorted. "Strange as it may seem, we have rules to follow. Without proof that she's done something wrong, my paws are tied."

"But she—" said Natalie.

"I'll hold her here through recess," said the cat. "But until a certain numskull PI brings me something solid"—here he glared at me—"that's all I can do. Last chance, Gecko."

Luz Lipps gave us a scornful smile.

My tail curled in frustration. I stomped outside.

"Well, so much for solving this case before the fair," said Natalie as we trudged back to class.

"
Hmph!
" I grumbled.

"You know what this means," she said.

"What?"

Natalie slapped her knee with a wing. "We're a-goin' to the hoedown, podnuh! Yee-hawww!"

I shook my head. "Git along, little birdie, git along."

I grumped my way through the last couple of lessons. Not even the news that this was Ms. Dwyer's last day could lift my mood.

If I didn't catch the thief by the time the fair started, I would be in deep, deep doo-doo. And so far, I hadn't found the shovel big enough to dig me out.

I was so distracted that I didn't see Shirley's sneak attack coming.

"Oh, Chet?" she said, as we were leaving class.

"Hmm?"

She batted her big green peepers. "Are you, uh, headed to the hoedown after all?"

"Hoedown?" I said, thinking of the case. "Uh, yeah."

Shirley's smile would've blinded a sunbird. "Thanks for being my date. See you at the dance!" And she twirled off to giggle with Bitty Chu.

"Wait!" I said. "What?"

But it was too late. Her cootie ambush had been sprung.

I met Natalie at the edge of the playground. She looked like a country-western song sounds—full of twang and heartbreak and bad fashion choices. My partner sported a huge cowboy hat, red kerchief, and a piece of hay in her beak.

"Howdy, pilgrim!" she said, in a fair imitation of John Wayne.

"What happened here?" I said. "An accident in a farmer factory?"

Natalie tipped her hat. "Just showin' some school spirit, stranger. Hey, that reminds me: Knock, knock."

"Natalie, we don't have time for this now."