Sly the Sleuth and the Pet Mysteries (4 page)

Wish Fish glided past.

I tapped on the side of the bowl.

Wish Fish blew a bubble and kept on gliding.

“He doesn't look mad,” I said.

“Watch.” Jack walked up to the bowl and put his face close.

Wish Fish jerked to attention. He faced Jack. He spread his fins and gill covers. He wiggled fast. I had to admit he looked mad. He looked ferocious.

“He only hates me,” said Jack. He slumped down onto the floor. “Only me.”

“Fish aren't smart enough to hate a particular person,” I said.

Jack didn't look convinced.

“Listen, I once read that goldfish are so stupid, by the time they swim to one side of their bowl, they forget what's on the other side.”

Jack shook his head. “Wish Fish isn't a goldfish. Mom said he's a betta.”

“Fish are idiots, Jack. All fish.”

“Really? Then I got the only fish in the world smart enough to hate me,” moaned Jack.

I sat on the floor beside Jack. “You must have done something bad to him.”

“Nothing,” said Jack. “I swear. I feed him. And I even sing to him every night.”

“Let me hear you sing.”

“No,” said Jack.

Well, that was okay. I wouldn't sing if someone asked me to either. Besides, if Jack sang every night and Wish Fish started getting mad only last night, then it couldn't be Jack's singing.

“Is there anything different you've done to him?”

“No.”

I looked up at Wish Fish.The water in his bowl was scuzzy.“When did you last change his water?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Hmmm,” I said. “Maybe he's a genius fish and he knows you're the one who's supposed to change his water and he wants it clean.” Actually, I hated saying that, it sounded so dumb. But, after all, there weren't many things that must matter to a fish, and water's got to be among them.

“Nah. The pet store told Mom not to change his water too often. He likes dirty water. In the wild, he lives in stagnant water.”

“Yuck,” I said.

“Yup,” said Jack. “See? Wish Fish is a perfect fish. And he hates me.”

I went home and telephoned my best friend, Melody.

No one answered.

So I telephoned Kate.

“Hello,” said Kate.

“This is Sly. Want to go walk to the pet store with me?”

“I don't need a pet,” said Kate.“I have Clarissa.”

“I just want to look at fish,” I said.

“Fish are boring,” said Kate. “Look at kittens instead.”

“Do you want to come with me or not?” I asked.

“Be outside my house in five minutes.” Kate hung up.

The phone rang.

“Hello,” I said.

“It's me,” said Melody. “Let's play.”

“I'm going to the pet store with Kate.”

“Oh,” said Melody. She didn't sound happy.

“What do you know about fish?” I asked.

“They don't taste good,” said Melody.

“I mean pet store fish.”

“Oh.” Melody giggled. “I guess most people don't eat their pets.”

I laughed too.“What do you know about red fish?”

“Red fish, blue fish, old fish, new fish,” said Melody, with another giggle. “Only tropical fish come in bright colors like red.”

I knew that, of course, but I was glad Melody reminded me. “Come with us,” I said. “We're going to look at fish. Or I am, at least. Kate's going to look at kittens.”

“Why are you looking at fish?”

“I have a case to solve.”

“Goodie. I'll look at fish with you,” said Melody. “I'm your best friend, after all.”

The kittens were in one window. Kate went to them.

The puppies were in the other window. Melody went to them. She said they were “darling.” I didn't have the heart to remind her she had promised to look at fish with me.

Oh, well, I was the sleuth, after all. And Jack had hired me, not Melody.

I got to work.

The fish tanks ran in three aisles. I started at the first one, thinking if they were alphabetical, then bettas would be near the start.

The tanks weren't alphabetical.

So I walked along looking for red fish.

I saw orange swordtails. I saw orange and black clown fish. I saw fancy goldfish that were silvery red. And I saw fancy guppies that were see-through with red insides.

But I didn't see a single glowing scarlet fish.

I started over. I read the labels on the tanks. No label said “Bettas.”

This was getting nowhere.

I went to the clerk.“Excuse me,” I said.“I'm Sly the Sleuth. And I'm on a case.”

The clerk looked down his long nose at me.“Yes?”

“I can't find your tank of bettas.”

“We don't have one,” said the clerk.

“Oh.Then I guess I'll have to get my mother to drive me to another store.”

“Go ahead,” said the clerk. “But you won't find one.”

I blinked at him. He didn't seem rude.“Why not?”

“No store has a tank of bettas,” said the clerk.

Was this a trick?

“How do you know?” I asked. I used my most polite voice. After all, this clerk seemed loopy, and I didn't know what he'd do next. “How do you know no store has a tank of bettas?”

“If they did, they'd all be dead. Except maybe one.” The clerk came around from the counter. “Want to know why?”

Of course I did. But the way he was acting, I wasn't about to ask.

“Why?” said Melody. She was standing behind me. Good old Melody.

“Come see.” The clerk led the way to the far side of the store.

On a counter were many small bowls. Each bowl held a fish. Blue fish and purple fish and red fish and green fish.

“They're beautiful,” said Melody.

“Those are bettas,” said the clerk.

“Why aren't they in a tank?” asked Melody.

“A sleuth can figure it out,” said the clerk. He flipped over a sign on the counter.“No cheating,” he said with a wink. Then he left us there.

“You shouldn't have said you were a sleuth,” said Melody.

Well, I knew that.

“I wonder what that sign says,” said Melody. “I suppose it would be cheating to turn it over.”

“Yup,” I said.

“What are you going to do, then?” asked Melody.

I didn't know. And her question didn't help. “Go back to the puppies.”

“I can't. A woman's cleaning out the window. So she put all the puppies away somewhere.”

“There are parakeets in the back of the store,” I said.

“I like birds.”

“Go see them,” I said. “I won't mind.”

“All right. But I'll come back soon. After all, I promised.”

“Take your time,” I said.

I looked at the prettiest red betta. He was all puffed out, like Wish Fish. He was mad.

I looked at the next red fish. He was mad too.

All the red fish were mad.

And the blue. And the purple. And the green.

What a bunch of mad fish.

What was wrong with them?

I looked around. No one was nearby. And these bowls were very small. I could pick them up easily.

I held one up to my face to get a good look.

The fish stopped being mad. Just like that. He closed his gill covers. He relaxed his fins. He swam in a circle.

I put the bowl down.

He got mad.

I picked up a second bowl. That fish stopped being mad too. But when I put the bowl back down, he got mad again.

Who ever heard of fish who wanted to be held?

I picked up a bowl and walked to the back of the store to find Melody.

She spied me right away. “Isn't the yellow one cute? He's sick, so they put him in a cage all alone.”

The parakeet didn't look sick. He was chattering at himself in a mirror.

“I guess they put the mirror there to keep him company,” said Melody.

Company. Maybe these fish were mad because they wanted company. Maybe that's why they liked being in my hands.

I held the bowl up to the side of the birdcage, so that the fish could see himself in the mirror.

He got mad.

Wow.

I ran back to the counter and picked up another bowl. With a bowl in each hand, I brought the two fish near each other.

They got mad.

I put my head down between them.

They stopped being mad.

I picked up a bowl with a red fish and a bowl with a blue fish. I held them so they could see each other. They got mad.

These fish didn't want company.

And now I knew why they weren't in tanks.

I turned over the sign. Yup, that made sense. It said: “Siamese Fighting Fish (Bettas).”

I ran to the drugstore. Kate and Melody lagged behind.

“Slow down,” called Kate.

“Catch up,” I called back.

I went to the hair dye section.There were fourteen shades of brown. “Which one matches Jack's natural color?” I asked.

“I like his hair blue,” said Melody. “He looked good at recess.”

“Besides,” said Kate, “you don't have any right to tell Jack what color his hair should be.”

I stared at Kate. She was the one who told people what to do. But I didn't point that out. “He needs to go back to brown,” I said. I chose a medium brown.